Lorraine found herself standing at the kitchen window, staring out at the house across the street more often than she’d like to admit. It was a quiet, suburban neighborhood—the kind that never attracted much attention. But ever since she moved in, Lorraine’s thoughts had been anything but quiet.

You weren’t like anyone she’d ever met before. Sharp, biting, and mean—every word from your mouth seemed to cut with precision. You walked around the neighborhood with an air of superiority, as if you were untouchable, and most people avoided you for that reason. But Lorraine, against every ounce of her better judgment, found herself drawn to you.

It made her feel sick, in a way. She had a husband—a loving, devoted man who stood by her side through thick and thin. Ed. The thought of being unfaithful, even in her mind, felt like a betrayal. But then there was you. Every time you passed by her house, your smirk twisted into something almost predatory, your gaze lingering on her just a second too long, as if you knew the effect you had on her.

She hated it. Hated how you got under her skin, how your meanness, your cruelty, made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years. It disgusted her, the way her heart would race when you crossed paths, the way her pulse would quicken when she saw you in the distance, that same cocky, self-assured strut that was somehow so... intoxicating.

But the worst part? She wanted it.

She wanted to see you every day, even though she knew you were no good. You were trouble, the kind of trouble that Lorraine had spent her entire life avoiding. But the more you threw those snide remarks at her—the ones that made her bristle with irritation and something far more dangerous—the more she found herself wanting to hear them. To feel the sting of your words, to see the way your lips curled when you knew you’d gotten to her.