Neighbor Dearest

by Penelope Ward

  “It was fun. It went by really fast.”

  “You looked like you were having a lot of fun one of those nights.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “With your little ginger friend. Your sister tagged you on Facebook.”

  At dinner one night, a redheaded castmate of Jade’s named Craig sat next to me and flirted the whole night. We were photographed in a bunch of pictures together. Someone must have posted them.

  “Now, you’re using Facebook to spy on me? The dating site wasn’t enough?”

  “Not really. It’s not a good tool. You’re never on there unless someone happens to tag you, which is once in a blue moon.”

  “I didn’t even know you had a profile.”

  He wriggled his brows. “Ah…so you’ve searched for me, then.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who’s the stalker now?”

  “Don’t even get me started on stalking, D.H. Hennessey. What’s the H stand for anyway?”

  “It’s a secret.”

  “You’re good at those.”

  “Ouch,” he said, poking me playfully in the rib.

  “Are you feeling okay today?”

  “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re gonna start asking me if I’m feeling okay every single hour…like my mother does.”

  “I’ll try not to be annoying about it.”

  “I feel great. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “So, who was the guy hanging all over you?”

  “I was hoping you’d drop it.”

  “No such luck, baby.”

  “His name is Craig. He’s in the show with my sister.”

  “I see. Well, he almost made me lose my shit. I was ready to fly across the country.”

  I decided to mess with him.

  “He had asked me to go out with him. But I was too obsessed with someone else who kept rejecting me to entertain it.”

  “That someone else was a real fucking fool.”

  “He was, but he had his reasons. He’s a good guy.”

  “He’s not that good. He wants to do very bad things to you right now.”

  “He can do whatever he wants.”

  “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

  “You’ve already done everything to me in my imagination. It’s been a long year.”

  “Fuck. Really? What the fuck have I been doing to you without my even knowing? Is it possible to be jealous of your imaginary self? I want to beat the shit out of him—nasty fucker.”

  “He and I…we’ve had a lot of good times.”

  “Well, as of today, he’s done.”

  I tugged on his hair. “We should probably get up off this floor at some point, huh?”

  “I’ll never look at this floor the same.”

  “Why don’t I go home and get some things. I didn’t exactly expect to be spending the night here.”

  “What did you come here for again?” He laughed.

  “I came here to give you a piece of my mind.”

  “I got a piece of something, alright. It wasn’t your mind.”

  ***

  When I returned to my apartment to grab some clothes, my phone buzzed, indicating I’d received an email. It was a notification from the dating site that I’d received a new message.

  It was from Online Damien.

  Chelsea,

  I’m sorry I stood you up at the Powell Street Starbucks that day.

  I’m just writing to let you know that I am cancelling my account after today, so you won’t see me on here anymore.

  I had the best sex of my life tonight. It was with my best friend. And it was fucking awesome.

  I should have listened to her weeks ago when she asked me to DUCK her.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BATHROOMS AND TREEHOUSES

  To say we were making up for lost time was putting it mildly.

  Over the next few weeks, Damien and I were inseparable. My insatiable man insisted that I spend every night at his apartment. Much to Dudley and Drewfus’ dismay, they were still banned from the bed now that I was a permanent fixture in it.

  Damien and I still hadn’t had any real serious conversations about his heart condition. It remained a constant elephant in the room. I think we just needed to enjoy each other without the stress of thinking about anything else for a while. After all, his worrying about the “what ifs” had kept us apart long enough.

  Sex was our distraction. We’d become addicted to it. I’d never had so much sex in my life, and yet I still couldn’t get enough of him. I’d count the minutes at work just to be able to get back to his place where he’d already be fully erect and waiting for me.

  Damien and I had also developed an affinity for spontaneous fornication in public places. Maybe it stemmed from our near-miss in the bathroom at Diamondback’s way back when.

  We were driving to San Jose one early Saturday afternoon on our way to visit his mother—my first time meeting her—when Damien flashed me a look from the driver’s side—a look I knew all too well.

  “I want to fuck that beautiful mouth.” He squeezed my thigh. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to keep my hands off you until tonight.”

  “You’re gonna have to. I don’t think your mother will appreciate it if we excuse ourselves to sneak into the bedroom for a quickie.”

  “I need something before we get there.”

  “I could give you highway head.”

  He grunted. “I would love that, but no fucking way. You’d have to take off your seatbelt. I’d crash the car. I’d never forgive myself if we got into an accident while you were blowing me unrestrained.” He adjusted himself. “Shit. It’s not even safe for me to drive while thinking about you going down on me.”

  I rubbed my hand over the erection straining through his jeans. “Don’t think and drive.”

  “No. I definitely can’t think about your wet mouth wrapped around my cock when I’m at the wheel. But now that you’ve also touched me, it’s too late.” He suddenly pulled into a rest area with a service station.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m suddenly hungry.”

  “For what?” I joked.

  “For your ass.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Just a little snack.”

  “You don’t do anything little, Damien.”

  “You go in first. Then, I’ll follow when the cashier isn’t paying attention.”

  Making my way past the aisles of chips and candy, I hoped the attendant didn’t notice me enter the single occupancy unisex bathroom.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed at my red-faced complexion. A minute later, in my reflection, I could see Damien opening the door behind me. My nipples hardened in anticipation.

  With his chest pressed against my back, he immediately began to devour my neck. Placing my hands on the sink for balance, I watched us in the mirror. Damien groaned as he lifted my dress and admired my ass. I loved watching the look of desperation on his face. There was no bigger turn-on than witnessing how much he wanted me.

  The buckle of his belt clanked as he undid his pants, letting them fall halfway down his legs. Within seconds, I felt his thick cock pushing inside of me with ease because of how wet I was. All of that talk in the car had really gotten me going.

  “Someone was ready,” he teased. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He slowly glided in and out of me.

  I nodded silently and pushed my hips back into him. “I’m always ready for you.”

  “I fucking love it,” he rasped.

  Damien’s eyes were smoldering as he stared at me through the mirror. He cracked a slight smile as he fucked me harder. He loved watching me lose control as much as I loved watching him.

  “Look how beautiful you are when I’m inside of you, how pink your cheeks are.” He slapped my ass. “These cheeks, too.”

  “I love when you do that.”

  “Ke
ep your eyes on me,” he demanded. “I like to watch you looking at me when you come.” Through the mirror, our eyes remained fixed on each other as he continued to pound into me.

  When someone knocked on the door, Damien placed his hand over my mouth and yelled, “Just a minute!”

  “Shit,” I mouthed.

  He whispered in my ear, “Fuck it. Take your time. We’re not leaving until you come. I’ll wait for you.”

  Grabbing my hips, he guided me with smooth precision over his cock until I’d completely forgotten that anyone was waiting for us. My muscles pulsated around him. I watched his eyes roll back as his hot cum shot inside of me. I could never get enough of this.

  He flipped me around and spoke over my lips, “You slay me, Chelsea.”

  “We’d better get out of here.”

  I followed Damien out of the bathroom as we did our mini walk of shame back to his truck. All eyes in the store were on us.

  It was worth every shred of embarrassment.

  ***

  We pulled up to a small, gray stucco house.

  The street Damien grew up on in San Jose’s Willow Glen neighborhood was quiet and residential.

  My palms were sweaty as I rubbed them together.

  Damien placed his hand on my leg to stop me from bouncing it up and down. “You nervous? Don’t be.”

  “I am. Very.”

  “She’s gonna love you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’ve already told her a lot about you. So, it’s like she already knows you.”

  “How long has she known about me?”

  “I used to talk about you to her before we ever got together.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  My heart was racing as we exited the car.

  Damien’s mother answered the door with a tiny dog yelping at her feet. She was really even more beautiful than I remembered from the one photo that Damien had shown me. Both Damien and Tyler definitely got their dark looks from her.

  She smiled at Damien before looking at me.

  He spoke first. “Chelsea, this is my mother, Monica.”

  She gave me her hand. My own hand was trembling a bit as I extended it to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so nervous.”

  “Me, too.” She smiled. The fact that she also seemed nervous comforted me a bit.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Of course, I am.” She smiled over at Damien. “How was your ride?”

  Damien looked at me impishly. “The ride was absolutely perfect.”

  I felt my face heat up.

  “Good,” she said. “Well, I made your favorite sausage lasagna for lunch. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving,” he said.

  “Why don’t you show Chelsea around? I’m just gonna go back in the kitchen and check on the oven.”

  Trying to calm my nerves, Damien traced his fingertips along my arm and kissed my cheek.

  The décor was very Bohemian with lots of vibrant patterns. Despite her shy nature, Monica’s style seemed to be very adventurous and indicative of a free spirit. Damien had mentioned that while not very religious, his mother was quite spiritual.

  Noticing some family pictures on a table, I made my way over to the living room. Damien followed me and snatched a frame out of my hand just as I lifted it.

  “You can’t look at that.”

  “Why?”

  He reluctantly flipped it around to show me. It was a picture of two boys, assumably Damien and Tyler. Damien looked quite…chubby.

  “You were so cute.”

  “I look like I’m about to eat Tyler.”

  “You never told me you were heavier as a kid.”

  “Well, this was before I learned that you should actually stop eating when you’re full.”

  “I think you look adorable.”

  “You would say that.”

  “I mean it.”

  Putting the picture down, I picked up another one—his parents’ wedding picture. “Wow, your parents are both stunning. It’s no wonder where you get your looks.” Now that I’d seen Damien’s father, I realized he actually looked a lot like him in the face despite having his mother’s complexion.

  Damien took the picture from me. “They were really in love. There wasn’t a day that went by where my father wasn’t all over her. Tyler and I had to look the other way a lot.”

  “That’s the way it should be.”

  “I have no doubt it would have still been that way if he were around.”

  Monica entered the room. “He is still around. I feel his presence every day.”

  I hadn’t realized that she’d been listening to us.

  She continued, “It’s not the same of course, but he is still very much here.”

  It warmed my heart when Damien wrapped his arm around his mother and kissed her forehead. I knew he wished that she would move on with her life, but he’d also explained that he no longer argued with her about it, because it only seemed to cause her stress.

  We sat down to a quiet lunch out back on the screened-in porch. Monica had made mojitos with fresh mint and strawberries. I had to stop myself after one because the rum was getting to my head. I didn’t want to say or do anything stupid in front of her.

  Looking out toward the yard, I said, “You have a beautiful garden.”

  “Thank you. The mint is freshly-picked from it, too.”

  “Gardening is her thing,” Damien said.

  “I feel very close to Raymond out there—in nature. I see him in everything; in the wind, in the butterflies that land on me when I’m out there, in the red cardinals that fly overhead.”

  My heart was breaking for this woman, even though she seemed to be finding solace in her own ways.

  “I think it’s wonderful how in love you are with your husband.”

  “You only get one true love, one soulmate. Not everyone is lucky enough to find that person in a lifetime.” She turned to Damien. “My greatest wish is that each of my sons is able to find the person who was meant for him. She looked down at Damien’s and my intertwined hands. “I strongly believe Damien has.”

  Looking at him as I spoke, I said, “Thank you. I have no doubt that he’s my person. I can’t explain it. It was just a feeling I had very early on. Even when he was constantly rejecting me, I always still felt a strong connection.”

  She nodded. “That’s what it is. Intuition. I was worried that Damien would never allow himself to experience this. I know you recently found out about his genetic heart condition. My husband never knew he had it. In many ways, that was a blessing. He never had to live in fear. At the same time, he never had the opportunity to do anything to prevent it from killing him. So, the lack of knowledge was a double-edged sword.”

  Damien looked tense as he let go of my hand. “What my mother is trying to say, Chelsea, is that she thinks I should have the surgery my doctors are recommending.”

  Monica placed her hand on Damien’s tattooed forearm. “I think you should do whatever it takes to ensure the longest lifespan, yes.”

  I suddenly felt nauseated. It hit me then that I’d really been intentionally blocking out anything having to do with Damien’s condition for a while now. He’d told me that some days he felt great while others he would become tired quickly. He also occasionally had trouble breathing. But the good days outnumbered the bad ones. Before I knew about his diagnosis, though, not once had I ever suspected something was wrong because he was so active and virile. He hid it very well and never complained; that helped me to live in denial.

  Still, even though he took such good care of himself, there was only so much he could do on his own to prevent something bad from happening.

  “Chelsea and I haven’t really discussed it. We’ve been trying to enjoy being together for a while without worrying about the serious shit for the time being.”

  “Well, you’ll know when the ti
me is right to have that discussion.” She looked over at me. “I’m sorry if I dampened the mood at all. That wasn’t my intention. Thank you for making my son happy.”

  “Thank you. He makes me so happy.”

  Damien chomped on the leftover ice from his drink and promptly changed the topic of conversation. “Wanna go see the treehouse?”

  My eyes widened. “Treehouse?”

  “Yeah. Tyler and I built it with Dad. It was ninety percent finished when he died. We completed it ourselves a few years later and went all out. It’s pretty damn cool.”

  “It’s more like a man cave in the sky.” Monica grinned.

  “I would love to see it.”

  Damien led me to the side of the house where a magnificent wooden structure sat amidst a giant tree. The treehouse even had windows. A long ladder made of rope hung beneath it. It literally looked like a little home.

  Inside there was a bed with a plaid comforter and a small couch across from it. A lamp was plugged into an electrical outlet. There was a television and DVD player.

  “There’s electricity?”

  “Of course. How else would I sneak in here to watch porn?”

  “That’s what you did in here?”

  “Tyler and I definitely took advantage of this place in our teen years.”

  “Okay. I don’t need to know any more than that.”

  He laughed. “You know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think I would really like to christen it with you right now.”

  “I can’t do that with your mother right downstairs.”

  “Well, we’re gonna have to figure out a way, because I can’t go the entire weekend without having you. Maybe after she goes to sleep, you can sneak up here to visit me.”

  We were spending the night here in San Jose. The plan was for me to stay in Tyler’s old bedroom, and I had assumed Damien would be sleeping in his room at the house.

  “You’re sleeping in the treehouse?”

  “Yeah. It’s really peaceful being up here at night. My second favorite place in the world.”