I stood up and began to search for something long to bang against the ceiling. His embarrassment didn’t matter in the least. I didn’t even care if I was that neighbor—the spinster downstairs who didn’t like hearing music, loud laughter, or sex. I just needed that woman’s abnormally loud orgasm to stop.

I climbed onto the dining room chair, the same one Thomas had used earlier, with a broom in hand. Just before I started banging the handle against the ceiling, someone knocked on the door.

What in the hell?

I opened it, fully aware that either I looked absolutely insane or the person on the other side of the door would be the crazy one, and I would have to use the broom on some psycho.

Thomas was standing in the doorway with dark circles under his eyes, looking exhausted. “Can I stay here?”

“What?”

“Why are you holding a broom?” he asked. “It’s after three in the morning. Are you cleaning?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you have company?”

He looked around, seeming confused by my question, and then shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you be at your place then?”

“Uh…I’m not getting much sleep up there.”

“Clearly!”

I tried to slam the door, but he caught it and followed me inside.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked. Then, he pointed to the stray dining room chair. “What’s up with the chair?”

“I was going to climb up on it and use this!” I said, holding out the broom.

“For what?” His nose wrinkled.

“On the ceiling! To make it stop! To make her stop!”

Recognition lit his eyes, and he was instantly embarrassed. “You can hear that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. The whole building can hear it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Liis.”

“Don’t apologize,” I seethed. “It’s not like we…it’s not real.”

“Huh?”

“Please don’t apologize! It just makes me feel more pathetic!”

“Okay! I’m sorry! I mean…”

I sighed. “Just…go.”

“I…was going to ask if I could stay here tonight. But I guess if you can hear her—”

I tossed the broom at him, but he hopped over it.

“What the hell, Liis?”

“No, you can’t stay here! Go back upstairs to your one-night stand! Seems like you’ve become a pro.”

His eyes grew wide, and he held up his hands. “Oh! Whoa. No. That wasn’t…that’s not me. Up there. With her.”

“What?” I closed my eyes, completely confused.

“I’m not with her.”

I glared at him. “Obviously. You just met her.”

His hands were moving back and forth in a horizontal motion. “No. I’m not up there, fucking her.”

“I know,” I emphasized each word. I might as well have been talking to a wall.

“No!” he yelled in frustration.