Turn up the Heat by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant

him. I couldn’t tell which.
    My stomach growled, and I reached for the pizza. After I’d inhaled two lukewarm slices, I decided to run down to the nearby CVS to pick up some supplies for this memory book I’d promised to do. The weather was great, and I didn’t feel like fighting for a parking spot, so a quick walk seemed like a good idea, especially because it was impossible to walk and study at the same time. I grabbed my purse and another slice and started down the outside stairs, only to run into stupid Noah, my neighbor, who was in his usual half-naked state on a chaise longue on the grass. All Noah needed was for the weather to hit anything above fifty degrees, and his clothes flew off his body. Today he wore nothing but running shorts and sunglasses. A boom box was blaring Jimmy Buffett, and it took all the restraint I had not to start smashing Noah over the head with my purse to the beat of “Volcano.”
    I’d made the idiotic mistake of having a short fling with Noah just before I’d met Josh, and whenever I saw Noah, I was reminded of my bad judgment. Granted, Noah was dark, handsome, and muscular, but aside from his intoxicating looks, he was a prick—a womanizer, a playboy, a bachelor-at-large, however you want to say it. He’d been bed-hopping throughout our entire fling, and I was never going to live down the embarrassment of having looked out my window one morning to see a bleached blonde in a tank top exiting his place. To top it off, Noah felt no shame or guilt whatsoever about his behavior. Everything about him enraged me.
    I’d just taken a rather large bite of my pizza and was busy sucking the cheese off the top when he saw me.
    “Hello, Chloe.” He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and squinted at me in a sexy way.
    I was doomed to have every encounter with Noah find me in some sort of humiliating circumstance. Now, melted cheese dangled out of my mouth, I had no napkins, my hair was mounded in an unflattering bun on top of my head, and I was wearing ragged capri sweatpants. My expensive Victoria’s Secret padded bra pushed up and out what I had, but the effect didn’t compensate for my overall look of pitiful dishevelment.
    He laughed. “Enjoying your lunch, I take it?” Damn him for looking so good! I was the one who’d been dumped and humiliated. Consequently, I was the one who deserved to look spectacular when we saw each other.
    Although my gut instinct was to slink silently away, I forced myself to remain calm. I finished chewing, swallowed the cheese, and did my best to wipe the grease off my face with the back of my hand. Then I cleared my throat. “Noah,” I said coldly, “I see that you are taking advantage of the global warming crisis. A1 Gore would be very disappointed in you. Go plant a tree or install energy-efficient lightbulbs.”
    “Oh, somebody’s cranky today, huh? Do you need some cheering up?”
    I exhaled loudly. “I’m cranky because I have final exams. I have work to do, which is evidently a foreign concept to you, since you devote all of your time to lolling around admiring yourself.”
    “I’m glad to hear you think I’m worth admiring.” Noah beamed and pulled his sunglasses down.
    Argh! I turned, marched off, and waited until I’d turned the corner to tug on a big underwear wedgie that I was sure Noah had noticed. He took every available opportunity to check out my, and everybody else’s, ass.
    My day so far had consisted of unpleasant events: the excruciating DSM review class, the unwelcome request from Gavin, and yet another maddening brush with Noah. At least I was going to see Josh tonight. The thought eased my mind, especially because Josh was the kind of boyfriend who didn’t care whether I had food hanging out of my mouth or bunched-up underwear or ratty, unwashed hair. Even so, my appreciation for Josh made me want to dress up tonight. Not that I was planning on wearing a ball gown, but I did want to look good. What’s more, meeting