Neighbors Read online

My return laugh sounds like a small animal being squeezed into a confined space; a cross between rejection and apprehension. This is definitely a good time to go home. I need to console my bruised ego. He follows as I reach for the door. “See you later,” I say and bolt across the street.

  Behind my own closed door, I sit on the couch and silently scold myself for being so stupid. Thoughts of the many mistakes I’d made with Greg fill my head. There are too many to count. All of the times I made excuses for his behavior because I didn’t want to admit to myself that he just didn’t want to be with me. The numerous times I looked away from his “plans” with his “friends.” If I’d ever questioned them I wouldn’t have been miserable for so many months. I just had to realize that I was meant to be alone. Relationships were not in my future.

  I call Tracy to vent.

  “No freakin’ way,” she says when I share how my day went and tell her about the invitation to dinner.

  “Do you think he’s gay?”

  “What? No. Tracy, he was in a bad relationship with a psycho.” Now you’re making excuses for him, just like you did with Greg. “Maybe he’s like me; he doesn’t want to be involved right now.”

  “Maybe he does but he doesn’t know it yet.”

  “Maybe it’s better if I don’t get involved, Tracy. I don’t want to get hurt again.”

  Six

  After my shower, I spend an hour on hair, make-up, and decide on what to wear. It’s a dinner between friends now, right? I opt for a simple red halter and navy capris, with a hair clip that matches.

  At six, Dylan knocks on the door. “You look great,” he says, moving his eyes up and down my body. It causes all of my muscles to tighten, but I harness them because now he’s just my friend.

  “You look great, too.” And he does. With his features, I don’t think he’d ever look bad. The edges of his curls are damp, so I know his shower is now in proper working order. Hints of cologne and cotton and him drift into my living room. He smells delicious. I’d have been happy to have him for dinner. My first thought is squashed with the thought that follows. Let’s not start that again.

  “Are you ready?” he says.

  I pick up my purse. “Yup.”

  He escorts me to his car, which is the charcoal grey Dodge Ram truck with the flatbed that he unloaded just yesterday. The cab is several feet up off the ground. As he opens the door, he offers me his hand so I can climb in. The electricity is still there when I touch him, but I try hard to ignore it. Then he walks around to the driver’s side and eases into his place.

  “Quite a ride,” I say, looking around the cab of the truck.

  “Oh yeah. It helps with the construction materials I use. Can’t be driving around in a wimpy car when you’re in construction,” he laughs.

  The first five minutes are awkward. I’m not sure what to talk about. Maybe just stick to general topics. I take in a deep breath and hold it to the count of five, then let it out to another count of five.

  “You okay?” Dylan asks.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You’re breathing heavy.”

  “I’m fine.” I make a more conscious effort to control my coping mechanisms. “Say, where are we going? I thought you didn’t know your way around.”

  His expression tells me that he hasn’t been honest with me. The droop in his shoulders confirms it. “Okay, so I do know my way around; I lived with my dad for a couple of months after I broke up with crazy-girl. He and his new wife live two towns over. I probably know what’s in this area better than you do. I just wanted to spend some time with you today. You know, get to know you.” We stop at a red light and he stares at me. His big brown eyes beg for forgiveness. “Mad at me?”

  He looks like a little boy who is sorry for putting frogs in the laundry. It’s so sexy. How can I not forgive him? I smile. “No, I’m not mad at you.” My expression changes to my serious glare. “But don’t lie to me again, okay?” I use my strong, adult, no-nonsense voice. “I’m working on my trust issues. This won’t work out if you lie to me.”

  With a quick glance from the road to me, he uses his index finger to cross his heart. “Promise. Honesty from now on.” The light changes to green and his attention is back on the road.

  We park toward back of the lot of the small, secluded restaurant. He comes around to help me out of the high cab. Although I’ve relented to thinking of him as a friend, my skin still reacts at his touch.

  A thin man wearing black slacks and a white shirt with the restaurant logo seats us at a table in the corner. Dim lights make it difficult to read the menu. The waiter takes our order. When he disappears, I notice Dylan looking at me. My head tilts and silently I invite him to share his thoughts.

  “I was just wondering why your ex-husband did it. Cheat, I mean?” he says.

  I shrug. “Because he’s Greg, and he’s a jerk.”

  “But, you’re so pretty.” His compliment catches me off guard. A warm rush blooms inside me. “And you organize a mean cabinet.” He winks.

  Is he flirting?

  No, you idiot. He’s just trying to make you feel good because you helped him.

  He changes the subject. “So, do you get a lot of action in the ER?”

  “It’s a busy place.” “

  “Do you see a lot of gory stuff?” He folds his hands and places them on the table, like a pre-schooler waiting for his snack from the teacher. I have his undivided attention.

  “Sometimes. Mostly, it’s your every day, run-of-the-mill injuries; cuts, bruises, broken bones. Occasionally, we get a virus, but mostly they’re accidents. What about you? I’m sure there are some interesting things that happen with what you do?”

  “Oh, there are some odd things I could tell you about nail guns and fires in port-a-potties, but that wouldn’t be as interesting as the ER.” He dons a grin. The conversation is less tense. Knowing now that he isn’t interested in pursuing a romantic relationship helps to take the edge off of our being together. The waiter serves us our food and I begin to relax as we continue talking as if we were old friends.

  “So are you close with your dad?” I ask, remembering the distinguished gentleman who had helped him move in.

  “We’ve always had a good relationship, but my brother and I became closer with him when my mother died.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  Sadness veils his face. “She had ovarian cancer. They caught it too late. She passed within the year she was diagnosed. That was ten years ago. My brother and I were very close to her.”

  Being a nurse, I know what difficulties his mother must have gone through during that last year. Instinctively, I reach across the table and put my hand on his. “I’m so sorry.” I’m not sure if he felt it, but I notice the spark is still there. You still want him. He looks down at my hand on his. I pull it away, thinking I have over-stepped my boundaries. But this time I’m trying to be a concerned friend.

  “Anyway, my dad was crushed for a long time. My brother and I finally convinced him to get out of the house and to have a good time. Shortly after, he found Maria. Well, really she found him.” The tone in his voice suggests that he isn’t fond of Maria.

  “You don’t like her?”

  “I’m sure she used to be a nice person once, but I think she only wants my father’s money. He’s very successful; an investment banker. He came from a poor family, but found he was very good with numbers and manipulating assets in the business world.

  “He met my mother when they were in high school, before he had any money. They loved each other, got married, and shortly after, found out I was on the way. They struggled to pay rent on a one-bedroom apartment. My dad took a job in the mailroom at some huge investment company. After I was born, his boss gave him a steadier job in an office and my dad quickly proved he was worthy of advancement. By the time my brother, Michael was born four years later, Dad had moved up quickly. His bosses saw his potential and placed him in the right position. When I was eight, he bought into the
company. He always said I was the lucky charm that got him started.” Dylan’s gaze shifts to the fork he’s playing with. “By the time he was twenty-nine he had earned his first million.”

  “First million? Wow!”

  “My mom was smart and invested in college funds for Mike and me. She never dissuaded us from what we wanted to do though. She just insisted that we go to college. My brother is on of the youngest police detectives in his house. I wasn’t the college type, at first. I had some… issues when I was younger. I struggled with myself, but ultimately chose to work with my hands. Now, Maria spends my Dad’s money on herself.”

  “How did your father meet her?”

  “That’s my fault.” Guilt erased his smile. “My friend Kyle, you met him the day I moved in, was my roommate when I finally did go to school, trade school. His cousin was visiting from New Jersey. She was sweet and innocent and beautiful. Because she was staying with Kyle’s family for the summer and didn’t know anyone, she was always with Kyle and me. It wasn’t a secret that she was very interested in me. She’d come over and we’d swim in my Dad’s pool. We went on a couple of dates, but she turned out to be superficial. She learned that my family was better than average when it came to money. She wanted someone to take care of her, buy her expensive things. That’s not the kind of person I want to be with.” Dylan stares at me. A warning perhaps? “There were no sparks between us. When she finally realized that I wasn’t interested, she stopped talking to me. When I went back to school for the fall semester, she’d moved here. I didn’t know it, but she had set her sights on my father. I think it was more his money she had her eye on though. He was vulnerable back then and Maria wound herself around him. I think she married him to spite me and the money is an added bonus.”

  I‘m stunned at this unload of personal information. I don’t what to say, so I say nothing. He changes the subject and we fill the rest of the evening with topics that aren’t so personal, like movies, books, and restaurants.

  We skip dessert and drive back home. Dylan pulls into his driveway and helps me out of the truck again. “I put some more things away. I’d like your organizational approval. Mind coming in?”

  “Um, okay.” I figure we were friends now, and that’s what friends do, right? Right, my brain confirms.

  He opens his door and I follow him into the kitchen. There are no boxes blocking my way this time. All that remains of the stacks of boxes are two in the corner. The counter is clear of clutter and the appliances have been buffed to a high shine. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

  “I want to show you the closet upstairs. I worked for over an hour implementing all of your suggestions.”

  This time, without naughty thoughts, I follow him up the stairs to the closet. He opens the door and stands back, waiting for my approval. It’s set up just as I had suggested.

  “Very nice,” I say. When I turn to address him, he’s very close. Unnerving force fills the space between us. My heart pounds, my breathing is rapid. And as if an invisible magnet is in my skin, he moves toward me. His lips are centimeters from mine. His scent – clean cotton and shampoo - dances around me. I can’t think straight. A debate races through my head like lightning through a cloud.

  He wants to be platonic.

  Then why is he so close?

  It’s a narrow hallway?

  Kiss him.

  He’ll reject you.

  Try.

  Don’t.

  Chicken.

  Friends.

  So close.

  No.

  Touch him.

  What if you’re wrong?

  His lips are right there.

  You’re misinterpreting.

  Mmmm,..he smells soooo good.

  He’s not interested.

  Those lips.

  He doesn’t…

  So…close…

  No.

  Yes!

  Enough! I give in and bring my lips to his.

  Seven

  The spark is almost visible. Soft, pliant lips accept mine. His body pushes against me. The contours of his chest press through his shirt. Deep inside of me everything tightens. His tongue parts my lips and caresses mine. I can’t think of anything except him. Strong hands skim my curves. One reaches around to my back and pulls me close. I feel him against me. Shock waves pulse down my spine. Blood races to every edge of my body.

  His mouth commands my attention as it moves across my jaw. Goose bumps trail the feather like kisses he places down my neck. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, giving in to the feeling that’s consuming me.

  He guides me out from the hallway into the bedroom. The back of my legs stop when they hit the edge of the bed. His mouth is on mine again. He stops momentarily. Large brown eyes search mine for permission. I smile, granting it. Deft fingers move to the tie that holds my halter-top secure. With a gentle tug, it falls loose. At that moment I’m grateful that I’ve never denied myself pretty lingerie as my lacy strapless bra is revealed. He leans in and plants more feather-kisses on the tops of my breasts while he reaches around and unhooks my bra, freeing me.

  My clumsy hands search for the hem of his shirt. He helps me pull it over his head only momentarily breaking the connection his lips have with mine. The shirt is tossed to the floor.

  He lips travel to my right breast. Using his tongue, he circles my nipple. I gasp. Taking it between his teeth, he gives a gentle tug. The pull resonates much lower. A moan escapes from deep in my throat. It fuels him. He cups my breast as he moves to the other and gives it equal attention.

  The need for him intensifies and I’m driven to the next level. Just friends, huh? With an awkward dance, he kicks off his shoes. He kneels on the floor and caresses my leg. Despite the work he does, his hands are smooth as he runs them up and down my calf. Slowly he slides the strap of my sandal down my ankle and removes the shoe. Then he does the same thing to the other. His hand skims up my legs and reaches to loosen the button on my shorts. I wiggle them down until they’re at my feet. I’m left in just my lacy underwear.

  He stands and takes a step back to assess me. His deep gaze electrifies me. Looping a finger on each side of my panties, he shimmies them down until they’re on the floor with my shorts.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are wide and his voice breathy. My muscles tingle with anticipation. The electricity between us is palpable. The knot in my stomach is tight.

  I fumble with the button of his jeans, and yank the waistband. Then I force the zipper down. With one long motion, I slide both his pants and his briefs past his legs. He springs free and stands before me, naked and ready.

  Visually, I devour him. My breathing is wild. My blood is pulsing.

  I no longer want him; I need him.

  Tender hands pull me close. The skin on skin connection causes all of my nerve endings to stand at attention. His mouth is urgent, demanding. I grasp his member firmly in my hand and he moans into my mouth. It surges through every synapse.

  Gently, he lays me on the bed. I move to the middle and lean up on my elbows, and wait for him. He stands at the foot, ready, but gazing at me with heated desire, taking me in. Our eyes connect and I want this so badly. I part my legs to give him access. He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between them. As he leans over me he whispers in my ear. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you brought those cookies over.” The words send me reeling.

  I feel the head of his erection at the apex of my legs. The anticipation is thick. I’m panting and I want this so much. He pushes his hips forward. I groan as he fills me. He stills as we both acclimatize to our intimate introduction. And then he moves slowly, at first, in and out. Then he picks up speed with each thrust. Soft kisses cover my face. Tension builds with every movement. My hips move to meet his. Unfocused thoughts of everything, nothing, him, fill my head. The rhythm increases and sensation takes over. I am no longer in control. It’s overwhelming. I gasp and my back arche
s as my fingers claw the sheet beneath me. I’m building. I can’t hold back any longer.

  “Let go,” he says, and I surrender, exploding around him. With a final thrust, he finds his own release.

  The sheets are soft and smell like clean cotton, like him. Long fingers stroke blonde strands away from my face as he holds me in his arms. He searches my face.

  “Your eyes are a beautiful shade of blue,” he says, running the tip of his nose against my cheek. Butterfly kisses follow my hairline from my temple, down my jaw, and across to my mouth. It starts me up again. He reads my body and I feel his erection press against my hip. He is ready for another round. So am I.

  I push his shoulders and force him onto his back. Throwing my leg over his waist, I straddle him. His strong hands guides my hips, directing me as I ease onto him and he fills me again. Waves of pleasure course through me as he pushes his hips in a complimentary beat with mine. It doesn’t take long for me to climb as he navigates my movement. All the while his eyes are focused on me. It’s sexy, hot.

  He holds me still and thrusts his hips up hard as he empties into me and mixes with my own orgasm. I collapsed on the bed next to him.

  He pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms around me, and we fall asleep.

  Eight

  Sunlight shines through the opened slats of the window blinds, saturating the room with light. I blink a few times before I realize where I am. Stretching my arms past the blanket, I turn my head to see Dylan sleeping next to me. A peaceful expression covers his face. I revel in how wonderful I feel. Doubt barges into my head in a panic. What if this was a one-night occurrence? Now that he’s gotten what he wanted, will he even talk to you when you see him from across the street? Will I have to look out the window every time I want to leave the house, just to avoid him? This was a bad idea. I look at Dylan. His peaceful expression is blissful. But it was incredible, wasn’t it?

  It certainly was, but I need to proceed with caution. What’s going to happen now? I don’t need another failed situation. I still haven’t completely recovered from the last one.