**The Dixon Rule: Chapter 10 — A New Dawn** With a careful grip, I eased open the front door, leaving it just ajar, a non-verbal statement to Percy that I was not inviting him in. I greeted him with a pointed question rather than a casual hello. “What are you doing here?” But the answer was unmistakably in his hands. The brown paper bag cradled the familiar Della’s Diner logo, with a greasy splotch marking the bottom; my favorite breakfast sandwiches were tucked away inside. While the gesture was sweet, it felt unwarranted and unwelcome. “I brought you breakfast,” he said, attempting a strained smile that faltered on his face. “Thanks. That’s nice. But I literally just woke up and I’m not hungry.” A frown crossed my lips as a thought struck me. “How did you get into the building?” “Louis buzzed me in. I told him you wouldn’t mind.” My teeth ground together involuntarily. I absolutely minded, and I would have to have a word with Louis. He manned the front desk at Sycamore on weekends and knew the rules—no one enters without permission from the owner first. Yes, Percy had been a regular weekend visitor throughout our six-month relationship, but I had never given Louis the green light to let Percy roam the halls at will. Maybe I’d bring this up at the HOA meeting starting soon. Brenda, the tenacious president, would be striking her gavel promptly at ten. My heart raced; I had almost forgotten about it. I don’t miss those meetings if I can avoid it. Perhaps I should be thanking Percy for this unexpected wake-up call. Actually, no—I was still irritated. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but you shouldn’t have come,” I stated firmly. He stiffened, frustration leaking through his facade. “You’re still mad at me.” “I’m not mad. I was never mad.” “When I came over earlier this week, you seemed upset.” “No, I was merely laying out why we’re not a good match,” I clarified. A rustle caught my attention, and I turned slightly, catching a glimpse of a shadow moving through the kitchen. Will was navigating his way to the bathroom. Crap. I nudged the door closer to my shoulder, a barrier against the conversation unfolding outside. Percy, however, was perceptive and didn’t miss my shift. “Is someone in there?” he pressed. “No,” I lied. “You can tell me if there is.” No, I couldn’t. Because if I did, he would unleash the storm of jealousy he always carried around, and I had no desire to face that now. But I kept my thoughts unspoken. It became clear to me that maintaining a friendship with Percy was a fool's errand. It was time to lay down the truth. “I don’t think we can be friends,” I said, my tone steady. He reeled back as if I had physically struck him. Then, just as quickly, his shoulders sagged, his Adam’s apple jerking in a nervous swallow. “So you are still angry.” “I’ve told you before, I’m not angry. But I’ve done some serious thinking since we broke up, and I honestly believe that this isn’t a healthy situation anymore. We both need to move on. You shouldn’t be bringing me breakfast.” I gestured toward the greasy bag. “This isn’t changing anything between us. We’re not getting back together.” “This is just a friendly gesture,” he insisted. “If it were truly a friendship gesture, you wouldn’t care about who’s in my apartment,” I shot back. “Is there someone?” His eyes narrowed, a flash of suspicion crossing his face. The hairs on my neck bristled. I tightened my grip on the doorframe, standing my ground. “There isn’t.” “I think you’re lying. I think you have a man in there. Is it your neighbor? The hockey player?” “Percy,” I snapped, irritation flaring. “Every word you’re saying is exactly why we can’t be friends. I’m sorry for how things ended and that you didn’t want them to, but we are done. Please respect that. I need you to respect my boundaries and leave.” He stood there, absolutely motionless; the seconds stretched between us, turning into an eternity. His already sharp cheekbones became even more defined as his cheeks hollowed, grinding his teeth in silence. Finally, after what felt like ages, he shook his head, murmuring, “I’m disappointed in you. I thought you were different.” I rolled my eyes internally. I didn’t care! Just leave! Instead, I replied coolly, “I’m sorry you feel that way.” With a final disdainful glance, he pivoted on his heel and stormed off, breakfast bag in hand—almost as if I was now unworthy of it. I didn’t budge from my doorway as I listened to his footsteps echo down the stairs, waiting for the familiar buzz from downstairs—the sound of the front door closing behind him. Once the silence enveloped me, I let out a long, relieved sigh. God. This was exactly why I was torn about relationships. Sometimes they filled my heart with warmth; other times—like this morning—they exploded like a grenade, reminding me how messy and burdensome they could be. Lord knows, I’d be better off with more casual encounters. Just as the door to apartment 2B creaked open, I caught Shane’s head poking out. “Damn, Dixon. You’re stone-cold ruthlessly honest. Poor guy,” he said, eyebrow raised. “‘Poor guy’ has been harassing me for months,” I shot back. “And don’t eavesdrop. It’s not a desirable trait.” “I wasn’t eavesdropping!” he argued, puffing up indignantly. “Everyone can hear everything in this building. Seriously. We should really talk to whoever did the drywall—they skimped on the good stuff. Poor Niall is probably furious at you right now.” A muffled voice shouted from below, “Don’t speak for me!” There was a moment of silence, then Niall chimed back, “But I am pissed. And it’s at you, 2B! Your gathering last night was the last straw.” “Yeah, 2B,” I mocked. “The last straw.” Shane’s eyes flickered with intensity. “What did you do to them?” “To whom?” “The whole building. And not just Red Birch. I know you’ve been trash-talking me all across Meadow Hill.” “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’ve earned your own reputation in these parts.” “Bullshit,” Shane declared. Just then, a fully dressed Will emerged behind me, glancing between us with a bemused look. “Everything okay here?” He smirked. “It’s been a chaotic morning.” “It’s been a massive pain in the ass,” I retorted. “Is Will still here?” Shane asked, craning his neck in a not-so-subtle way. “None of your business.” I stepped back and slammed the door, seeking refuge from his annoying prying. “I hate that he lives here,” I muttered darkly. “I truly loathe it.” Will chuckled in response. “I kind of enjoy it.” “Enjoying my misery, huh?” I shot back. “No, no. I prefer his misery, actually. Watching you bust his chops is entertaining. I bet he’s tossing and turning at night, scheming about how to get the last word in.” A loud knock interrupted our banter. Will’s grin widened. “See?” Before I could respond, I opened the door, catching Shane barging past me like he owned the place. “I was thinking about last night, and I’ve realized if I can’t sleep with cheerleaders, then you can’t sleep with hockey players. I’m calling it the Lindley rule. You can’t hook up with my teammates.” “Why not?” I countered, though I needed to clarify—nothing had happened between me and Will. “Spite,” was Shane’s simple reply. “Retaliation. This is purely vengeful.” “You’re acting like a child.” “Takes one to know one.” “Oh my God. That’s precisely what a child would say.” “And one last rule. You’re prohibited from turning the entire building against me.” “Too late,” I smirked, feeling victorious. “So you did say something to them?” Shane questioned, eyes narrowing. Will flicked his gaze from one of us to the other like a tennis ball. “Are you flirting?” “No!” I exclaimed, horror echoing in my voice. “What did you do to the neighbors?” Shane pressed, clearly not convinced. “Nothing, I promise.” He scowled at me. “Are you lying?” “Of course,” I teased. Will erupted into laughter, clapping Shane on the arm. “Um, I think I’ll leave you two to it. Thanks for letting me crash here.” “Please don’t leave me with him!” I pleaded, but Will had already vanished through the door. Turning back to Shane, I berated, “See what you’ve done? You’re driving everyone away with your awful personality. I have no friends because of you.” His lips twitched, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re just a drama queen.” “Takes one to know one,” I baited. “That said, go away. I need to prepare for the HOA meeting. Let me check my calendar…never.” “Don’t worry. We can finish this delightful discussion at the homeowners’ meeting,” Shane countered, a confident smirk on his face. “I plan on attending.” “Don’t you dare.” “I absolutely dare. I have matters to raise with the ‘council.’” “There is no council!” “There will be when I’m finished with them.” “What does that even mean?” I wailed, frustration bubbling over as Shane walked to the door. “I’ll swing by in twenty minutes to escort you to the meeting,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare,” I growled, exasperation filling my words. “Oh, I fucking dare,” he shot back, the door clicking shut behind him. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t believe I had shared a kiss with him last night; his lips had been on mine, and I had liked it. The thought only fueled the madness of this already chaotic morning. Cursing under my breath, I rushed through my morning routine, scrubbing my teeth with an intense fury before slipping into a blue sundress adorned with delicate white flowers. While the coffee brewed, I checked my phone and found a few messages awaiting me—one from my brother and another from Gigi. Thomas was checking in from Peru, where he was volunteering with a humanitarian group. He reassured me he was safe and planning to return home at summer’s end for our father’s annual potluck. Good. I genuinely missed him. Gigi’s message was fresh, sent from the airport as they awaited their gate call. She complained of boredom, claiming Ryder was too engrossed in a book to keep her entertained. I decided to respond to her first, recognizing she needed more attention than my brother at this moment. **ME:** I kissed Shane last night as a dare in a game. It was the worst experience of my life, and I ask for privacy during this time of great shame and suffering. **GIGI:** LOL Did you actually kiss him? **ME:** Unfortunately. **GIGI:** Was he a good kisser? **ME:** Like a 5/10? I was lying, of course. His skills were closer to an eight, perhaps even a nine if I factored in the audience. Having eyes on us had somehow elevated the moment. **GIGI:** Did he try to feel you up? **ME:** No. But I felt something. **GIGI:** OMG, like you caught feelings? **ME:** No, I literally FELT something. He was sporting a boner, and it was… impressive. **GIGI:** Oh, I know. I bumped into him in the middle of the night once on my way to the bathroom, and he was naked. **ME:** And HARD? **GIGI:** No, no. He was flaccid. But even flaccid, it was eye-catching. **ME:** I don’t know why, but I’m weirdly affronted by the word ‘flaccid.’ **GIGI:** Agreed. It’s so unpleasant. Let’s switch to “not hard.” **ME:** Okay, so he was big even while not hard? **GIGI:** Oh yeah. Comparable to a not-hard Ryder, and we all know Ryder’s massive. This was the first time she had alluded to Ryder’s endowment, and my curiosity was piqued. **ME:** How massive? **GIGI:** None of your business. **ME:** Come on. Share with the class. I promise I won’t inform him. Give me a definition of massive. A long pause followed before she finally responded. **GIGI:** 10 inches. I nearly choked on my coffee. Oh my God. A six-foot-five king with a ten-inch cock? How was I supposed to function around that? As I pondered Ryder’s impressive situation, Gigi informed me it was almost time to board and promised to message me once they landed in Arizona. I finished my coffee and carried the mug to the sink, just as yet another knock resounded at the entryway. Surprise, surprise—Shane was following through on his threat to invade our meeting. He smirked when I opened the door. “Ready?” “Absolutely not,” I snapped sourly. “Great. Let’s go.”