The first night it happened I hadn’t planned a damn thing, I’d only gone to the kitchen half-asleep, scratching my chest, boxers hanging low on my hips, and that’s when I saw her—my tenant, the girl who’d only moved in two weeks ago, bent over the fridge in nothing but a thin tank top that didn’t hide her nipples and a pair of shorts so small they were practically underwear, and the way she stretched up on her toes, humming quietly, pulling a bottle of water like she owned the place, like she wasn’t in my house, drove something mean and primal into my gut, and I swear I just...