“What?” I ask him, scanning the yards across from mine.
“Is that your neighbor?” he asks me, his eyes open wide. His voice is a sharp whisper. “He definitely wasn’t out here earlier, and there is no way we would have missed him.”
My eyes widen when I spot the man Liam is talking about. In fact, he’s hard to miss. His wet brown hair dips across his forehead as he bends down, digging into what looks like a tool bag. The muscles of his bare back stretch with every movement, his tan skin glistening under the sweltering sun. His faded jeans are worn, covered in several grease stains and torn across his knees. The man doesn’t look up, focused on working on the motorcycle parked in his driveway. He carries the wrench over to the bike and bends down again. Liam is right—there’s no way we wouldn’t have seen him out here earlier.
Liam jabs me with his elbow again. “Maybe moving here wasn’t a bad idea after all,” he mutters under his breath, acting as if the man can hear him from where we’re standing in my driveway.
I roll my eyes at his comment. “You’re married, Liam.”
“Hey, that man is gorgeous. Don’t lie and tell me you don’t see it too. And being married doesn’t mean I can’t still appreciate an attractive man when I see one.” He points his finger at me. “And you can too.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m ready to jump into that pool. Not for a long time, anyway.” I’m still staring at the man, studying his profile. He looks around my age, maybe a bit older. His eyes are intently focused on his bike as he twists the wrench, music playing from the phone halfway stuffed into his back pocket. My eyes make it back up to catch the features of his face. There’s a sharp plane to his nose, stopping above his full lips. Sweat drips down his jawline, slithering down the tan skin of his neck. I swallow and press my lips together, heat rising up my throat. Maybe Liam has a point. There is no denying that my neighbor is obnoxiously good-looking, but I have rules and promises I’ve made to myself.
“You will be at some point.” Liam finally breaks his gaze away from my neighbor. His eyes sadden again when he pulls me in for a hug. His strong arms wrap around me, and I bury my face against his chest. He smells clean, and although he took a shower here, he still smells like home.
I scoff and roll my eyes. My brother’s optimistic outlook on my love life is quite the opposite from mine.
“Wait.” I pull back, keeping him at arm’s length. “I just got my sweat all over you.”
“I don’t care.” He shakes his head and chuckles.
I smile, pulling him back toward me. “Call me when you land.”
“I will.” He kisses the top of my head and hops into the truck. A tear slips down his cheek, and this time I don’t have to wonder if it’s sweat. I know he’s truly crying.
I swipe away a tear of my own as Liam starts the engine and begins backing out of my driveway. I don’t move to go inside the house until Liam turns and drives out of my neighborhood. In a way, his absence brings out two different feelings. A weight lifts off my shoulders and I feel ready to take the next step in my new life, but the other piece of me aches for my family. I know I’ll miss them, but I also know it’ll fade with time. This is now my new home, and I intend to do everything I can to make it feel that way.
I stand in the middle of my driveway until the sweat starts to run down my cheeks the same way it did earlier. I peer up at the sun, squinting. It may be hot, but I can feel the sunshine pouring into my soul. I’ve never felt the sun this way before, at least not somewhere I call home. The only other time was when I took a vacation to Florida with Cole for spring break our junior year of college.
I look down at my feet, already noticing how my skin has started to tan. I smile, but my eyes widen when I catch the ring of sweat around the collar of my tank top. Dots of sweat bead my chest, and I frown. The frayed ends of my shorts cling to my thighs. I wrap my hands around my neck and sigh, tipping my head back in exhaustion. I trail my fingers across my skin, attempting to wipe away the sweat gathered there. The sun dips behind the trees lining the street. It’s getting late, and a shower and bed sound like the perfect way to finish out my first day in my new home.
I spin on my heel, ready to head back into my house, but quickly stop. My feet tangle, the tip of my sandal scraping across the pavement. I stumble forward, reaching my arm out toward the hood of my car. My hand slaps against my black vehicle, catching me before I fall flat on my face. My neighbor, the one who was too busy focusing on fixing his motorcycle to notice me and Liam, is now staring directly at me. His dark eyebrows slant, studying every inch of me. It’s as if I can feel his stare burning a hole through my chest.
My breath catches in my throat and I stare straight back at him. I stand, clearing my throat, wondering what about me has caught his attention.
He’s standing beside his bike, running a rag across the palms of his hands and through his fingers. Black smudges streak across his sculpted arms, all the way down to his wrists. Sweat drips down the front of his chest. He’s still shirtless, his bare chest exposed for all the neighborhood to see.
The music is still playing from the phone in his back pocket. I swallow, my throat starting to dry from the intense heat. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
My cheeks blush, mostly from my embarrassing stumble in front of this stranger.
Great first impression, Sloan.
The man’s eyes don’t move, and his expression catches me off guard. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t wave. He does nothing. His face and body are still, as if he’s been caught in a trance. He simply stands in his driveway with a blank stare.
I stare back at him with confusion. I don’t know this man and have never seen him, but I can’t help feeling like my heart might burst out of my chest. All from the intensity of his stare. The awkwardness of our situation leaves me clueless as to what to do. I start to think of all the reasons I know moving here was a good idea. I’m determined to start this new life of mine off on the right foot. I take a step forward, ready to walk over to him to introduce myself, but then I stop. Nerves rise inside me, my stomach fluttering. I’m covered from head to toe in sweat, and from the expression on his face, my neighbor doesn’t appear too eager for me to walk over to him.
Instead, I stupidly lift my hand and wave, giving him the largest grin I can muster. “Hi.” My voice wafts across the sweltering air between us. There’s a considerable distance as we’re both standing in the middle of our driveways. For a second, I’m unsure if he heard me.
But the heat in my cheeks intensifies when the man lifts his hand and swipes the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip. His eyes narrow and his jaw tightens. He doesn’t respond to my greeting, at least not verbally. Instead, he turns around and walks back up his driveway. His boots beat against the pavement as he makes his way to his front door, shutting it behind him.
I awkwardly stand in my driveway, trying to decipher what just happened. Why was he staring at me? And how is it that I could feel his stare burrowing its way into me as deep as the sun’s rays have been?
My first interaction with my neighbor isn’t quite what I expected. I hope my new co-workers won’t react the same way.
I turn around and head back into my house, refocusing on building this new life of mine. The second my eyes land on the mountain of boxes still piled in the entrance, I groan. I walk past them and slowly head up the stairs.
I take a quick shower then throw myself onto my mother’s old bed, and before I’m able to even think about the million things I still have to do, I close my eyes and let sleep take me away.
Chapter Two
“I told you already, I’m not interested.” I sit on the edge of my bed and rest my elbows on my knees, catching my breath. The tingling in my legs has already started to dissolve, the rush of last night fading away.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Her voice is slow, her hot breath dancing across my back as she moves behind me. Her hand slides across my bare shoulder,
the points of her long sharp nails digging into my muscle. “It’s just coffee,” she adds, as if that’s enough to convince me to change my mind.
“I said no, Kate.” I glance over my shoulder and shrug her hand away. I look her in the eye, letting her know how serious I am when it comes to this topic. Her black mascara is caked around her eyes, and her pink lipstick is smudged across her bottom lip.
She stares at me wide-eyed, her mouth open. She’s resting back on her heels, her knees pressed into the mattress, and her eyebrows knit as she stares at me in disbelief, clenching her jaw. “My name is Kylie.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and sigh, standing up to face her. “This was never more than what it is. You know that.”
“Yeah,” she says, crawling off the bed. “Well, maybe I hoped you would eventually change your mind.”
“Nope.” I roll my head to the side, avoiding her piercing stare. “We agreed to fuck. That was the deal. Nothing more.” I leave Kate—shit…Kylie in my room and head toward my bathroom. I turn on the shower, allowing it to heat up.
I walk back out into my bedroom, checking my phone for the time. Perfect; it’s still early enough for me to get Kylie out the door and make my morning run.
“I just don’t understand why you’re always rushing me out of here so early in the morning.” She’s standing at the foot of my bed, crossing her arms over her bare chest. She still hasn’t bothered to get dressed. Her breasts pop out from her arms, my teeth marks still visible on her flesh. “It’s still dark out.”
“You understood that was the rule when you came over here,” I tell her. “If you have a problem with it, so be it. Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” She quickly snatches her sequined top and slides it on before gathering her long brown hair into a ponytail. She swipes her tongue across her mouth, wetting her lips.
It’s hard for me to believe her mouth was wrapped around my dick only a few minutes ago. Her tongue slid across my length, her lips puckering around my tip as she swallowed my cum. I fight the way my dick begins to perk up with the memory. The last thing I want is to bring Kylie back to my bed. She needs to leave.
“You think I care what you think about me?” I ask her, already tired of this conversation. The longer she stands here in my house, in my bedroom, the more anxious I get for her to leave. We agreed to sleep with each other, not deal with all this extra bullshit.
“Wow.” She nods, quickly stepping into her mini skirt. “Fuck you, Dallas.”
“Been there, done that.” I sneer. “And trust me, it isn’t that great.”
I’m lying. The sex was pretty fucking awesome, but at this point, I’m ready to say anything to push her out the door.
Kylie finishes the zipper on the back of her skirt, her face frozen as she stares at me in silence. I couldn’t care less about the way she looks at me. It’s better to have her look at me with hatred than with longing, hoping to be anything more than what we are. No amount of mind-blowing sex is worth even something as insignificant as a coffee date. Not anymore, at least. Sex with any woman this past year has been meaningless, and as far as I’m concerned, this conversation pretty much sealed the deal on any more nights with Kylie. This is only the third time I’ve brought her back to my place, but I’ve decided it’s already been three times too many.
She wants more than I am willing to give.
She only blinks once before she storms out of my room without another glance in my direction. Her footsteps echo down the staircase followed by her slamming the front door.
Once I see the headlights of her car pass across my window and I’m certain she’s gone, I step into the shower. It’s steaming, and I welcome the sting across my skin. As always, I only stay in the shower long enough to rinse off before heading out for my usual morning run. I always take a full shower when I get back, but there is something to be said about jumping in long enough to wash away the choices I made last night.
After I finish in the shower, I quickly toss on my running shorts and head for the front door.
The morning is my favorite time to run. The city hasn’t woken up, and when you live in one as big as Austin, you value the silence the darkness offers. Texas summers have always been nearly unbearable, so I take every opportunity I have before the sun decides to leave its mark across the city.
The sky is still black, an orange, purple shade slowly emerging from behind the house across the street. The same car that’s been there the past week is still parked in the driveway, the moving truck gone. I don’t know who moved into Ellie’s house, and up until a week ago, I didn’t know if anyone would. There was never a For Sale sign pitched in the front yard, and as far as I knew, Ellie didn’t have family.
But as for the other day, the woman standing in Ellie’s driveway was someone I wasn’t expecting. She was gorgeous even with sweat covering every inch of her pale skin. She clearly wasn’t from Texas. Not only did her skin look as if it had never seen the light of day, the license plate on her car said she was from Minnesota.
Her dark brown hair was swept into a ponytail, the ends dipping into the beads of sweat collecting along her back. At first, I couldn’t ignore how her ass cheeks were peeking out of the bottom of her cutoff jean shorts. Then she saw me. It was as if I couldn’t break my eyes away from hers. She was staring at me like a deer caught in headlights, her round eyes softening under the simmering summer sun. There’s a story to the woman who now lives in Ellie’s house—a story I have no interest in digging into. If I am going to stick to the promises I made to myself the past year, involving myself with my new neighbor isn’t anything I am interested in.
I turn my attention to the road, following my usual route out of my neighborhood. The trees sway in the morning breeze, the wind beating against the brick exteriors of the endless number of houses lining my street.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement of the road, I start to pick up my speed, clicking through my playlist until I find the song I’m searching for. The music blasts through my headphones, drowning out the sound of my heavy breaths and weighted footsteps. This is my favorite part of the day. It’s easy to block out the thoughts running through my mind. Running is a new habit I adopted along with not attaching myself too closely to anyone. As evidenced by what happened with Kylie this morning. I’ve developed a few good habits and a few bad ones, depending on how you look at them, but I don’t give a fuck anymore. There is no reason to. I like to call it balance.
I’ve barely made it twenty seconds into the song when it suddenly stops, indicating I have an incoming phone call. I slide my phone out of my pocket and swipe the green button the second I see the name flashing across my screen.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Colton’s husky voice travels through my headphones, his voice too loud for someone calling me so early in the morning. He’s clearly still pissed at me for flaking out on him. In his defense, I have been a terrible friend and business partner lately. I haven’t held up my end of the bargain, so there is a small piece of me that can’t blame him for being upset with me.
I take a few steady breaths and turn onto the next street before answering him. “Look man, I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to go up there, so I dipped out early.”
Colton and I opened our bar a little over a year ago in the center of downtown Austin. As far as the food and drink are concerned, we are considered a success. The entertainment side of it, not so much. I know summer is setting in, and every day our sales are climbing with students off for summer break. Music is a sure-fire way to attract more customers. Colton knows it. I know it. It’s part of owning a bar in one of the most popular cities in Texas. No matter how much I know my playing would bring in customers, I still can’t bring myself to do it. And that’s where Colton’s five a.m. complaint comes in.
“If this is how it’s going to be every time I ask you to play a set at the bar, the least you can do is tell me the truth.” He sighs. “Not give me this const
ant bullshit runaround.”
“Can we talk about this later?” I ask him, breathless. I’m dodging this line of conversation. The thought of playing music again or even picking up my guitar makes me physically ill.
“I guess…but I’m just letting you know I’m looking to hire a couple extra bartenders and servers for the summer. With UT on summer break and tourist season ramping up, pretty soon it’s going to be more than we can handle.”
“Fine.” I quickly agree with Colton. I may not have the motivation to play on stage, but I’m capable of talking about this side of the business.
Colton and I have been friends since our sophomore year at the University of Texas here in Austin. He majored in business, and I majored in music. Over the years, Colton tried to convince me we could open a barbecue restaurant and bar here in the center of the city. For most of our senior year of college, he turned into Bubba and I became Forrest Gump, but instead of shrimp, Colton was convincing me to run a barbecue restaurant.
“What happened to you last night anyway?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me.
“Oh, no.” He chuckles under his breath. “Please don’t tell me you left with Katie again.”
I laugh under my breath. “Kylie.”
“What?”
“Her name is Kylie, not Katie.”
Colton pauses. “Right. Anyway, you left with her again, didn’t you?”
“What if I did?” I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling defensive of the choices I’ve made lately. It’s not like it’s any of Colton’s business who I sleep with. “It’s not a big deal.”
I swipe my arm across my forehead. Sweat has started to drip across my eyebrows, the corners of my eyes stinging with the salty liquid. I turn back down the main road and run along the sidewalk, watching the sun peek out at the end of the endless stream of streetlights.
“I figured you would say that.”
“Whatever.” I brush him off. My chest starts to tighten, the effect of my run beginning to wear on me. I look down at my watch. I’ve only made it a quarter of the way through my route. I still have to run through the park before swinging back to my neighborhood.
The Rules of Heartbreak: An Enemies-to-Lovers/Next-Door Neighbor Romance (The Heartbreak Series Book 1) Page 2