by Hart, Emma
“Well, that’s a shame. There goes all my fantasies.”
I wasn’t going to respond to that. I was starting to think she was taking after Grandma Jen a little too much.
“Riiiiight,” I said slowly, putting a multipack of paints on the shelf. “Well, we’re having dinner, but it’s not a date. I’m not sure how I feel about this whole situation.”
“You’re not sure how you feel? Han, you’ve had a crush on the guy for weeks. Months, even. You already know he can dirty talk like a champ, so just roll with it.”
“Someone’s ability to dirty talk isn’t related to the kind of boyfriend they’d be.”
“Sure it is. Anyone who can dirty talk your ass off is gonna be one hell of a goer in bed.”
“Have experience with that, do you?”
“We’re not discussing my sex life,” she muttered.
“Oh, but mine is perfectly fine? Go away,” I muttered right back at her.
She laughed, which ultimately made me laugh, too. After a moment of mutual silence, she said, “What if the date goes well?”
I shrugged and put the last multipack on the shelf. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it. It’s too awkward right now. I think I’m still in shock from finding out it was him all along.”
“It’s not the end of the world. You’ve actually gotten the worst part out of the way.” Immy pulled a multi-tool from her back pocket and flipped out the knife to slice down the boxes. “You know the chance of you being sexually compatible is relatively high. You just have to do the boring stuff now.”
“Wow, Dr. Phil. Thanks so much. I came to work to be psychoanalyzed today.”
She flipped me the bird, then flattened a box. “You’re a dick.”
“I know. So are you. It runs in the family.” I grinned. “Now what the hell am I supposed to wear tonight?”
***
It was tonight and I still had no idea what to wear.
I was going to answer the door in my pineapple panties and a sweary tank top at this point. It wasn’t like there was an etiquette kinda thing for this situation. Dating never covered having sexted your neighbor prior to the date.
We were doing our young people a disservice.
Or maybe it was me. Maybe I was just so hopelessly awkward at dating that I’d built it all up in my head.
For the record, that was entirely plausible.
It was probably the truth.
It was still hot out, so after a moment of fucking around in front of my closet, I pulled out a dress that was somewhere between casual and dressy. It was a simple, navy cotton swing dress with a v-line neck that hung in a flattering manner off my books.
And it wouldn’t show the lines of my terribly comfortable pineapple cotton panties.
Win-win.
I pulled it on over my head and looked at myself in the mirror. It was a versatile dress—in fact, it was the kind of dress you could throw on over a bikini for the beach or wear with heels for a night out.
It would do.
Wait, but what if he thought me wearing a dress was too formal? Should I wear my usual comfy combination of leggings and a tank top? Maybe jeans if I wanted to be fancy?
This was why I didn’t date. It was too complicated. There were too many rules. I wasn’t interested in all of those. I just wanted to date in my leggings and a sweary shirt and honestly, I wasn’t even sure about the leggings most of the time.
Goddddd.
I was not cut out for this, especially not with Isaac.
It was literally like being fifteen again. The nerves I felt were insane. I didn’t even know what food to order. Did he like Chinese? Pizza? Indian? Thai? Japanese?
Sushi or pizza?
Chow mein or pho?
Curry or burgers?
This was too difficult. Too much. Too damn complicated.
And through it all, I wasn’t even entirely sure how I felt about Isaac. I was so attracted to him—despite my protestations otherwise—and I was outside of my comfort zone entirely.
I wanted to like Isaac. I wanted to have more. I wanted to break free of my worries and carry out all the things we’d discussed in our texts, but I was so wary at the same time.
We were neighbors.
If it went wrong, it would be the worst having to live next to him.
But if it went well…
“Ughhhh.” I dropped back onto my bed and blew out a long, deep breath. I traced the pattern on the ceiling with my eyes. It was calming and soothing, and I kept it up until I could no longer figure out where I’d started.
I sat up. This dress was fine. It wasn’t too fancy or too casual. It said exactly what I expected from this date, and you know what this paired well with?
Pizza.
Everyone needed pizza on the first date.
I checked the time. It was ten past seven. Isaac was going to be here soon, so I opened the pizza place app on my phone and placed an order for two personal pizzas, potato wedges, a garlic bread pizza, and two chocolate brownies for dessert.
I was already in possession of the wine.
Obviously.
I waited for the confirmation of the email then stepped up to my dresser where I could put a lick of mascara on my lashes. It popped my eyes just enough.
I ran the brush through my hair one more time and took a moment to smooth out my curls with some product. My curls hang loosely around my shoulders and I made my way down to the living room.
Lucifer was curled up on the sofa, pressed against where I’d been sitting before I’d gone upstairs to change. There was no way I was going to get through this date without losing my mind, but I had to try.
I perched on the edge of the sofa, careful not to disturb the kitten, and picked up the empty glass of wine. With a sigh, I reached for the chilled bottle in the middle of the table and poured some into my glass.
God, I was nervous.
So nervous.
I had no idea what to make of this not-a-date. Isaac had me wrapped up in all kinds of knots, and none of them were the BDSM kind.
Well, maybe my insides were.
I took a deep breath and stood, pacing my living room. Lucifer paid me enough attention to open his eyes slowly, stare at me for a good moment, then close them again.
Well, excuse me for disturbing you, Lord of Darkness.
I turned away from the kitten and resumed my pacing. Up and down like a freaking lunatic until I couldn’t take it any longer and finally perched on the windowsill like a cat after a bird.
This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. It was only Isaac—my neighbor. If it went to shit, it didn’t matter. He said himself all I had to do was tell him I wasn’t attracted to him and it would all go away.
I doubted that would be the truth, but I had to give this my best shot.
Plus, I kind of wanted to have dinner with him.
We’d been neighbors for a while now and I was intrigued by him. We’d barely had a full conversation until the recent events—and I hardly counted those texting things as conversations.
I needed help. Why had I agreed to this? Why had I said this in the first place? What the fuck was wrong with me?
Screw help.
I needed a Xanax.
I grabbed my phone from the sofa and shot off a text to Immy.
ME: This is a terrible mistake
IMMY: Why? Did he show up in assless leather chaps?
ME: Oh, God, now I’m scared he will.
IMMY: Do you think he fucks with a British accent?
ME: I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.
I tossed my phone back down, earning myself another side-eye from the sleepy kitten. I rolled my eyes at his attitude and walked into the kitchen.
For absolutely no reason. I needed nothing in here.
I spun around and went back to the living room where I grabbed my wine glass and downed the tiny amount I’d put in there. It did diddly squat, but the movement made me feel a little better.
If this went on much longer, I was going to have to throw myself down dramatically while crying. I didn’t have a fancy water fountain like Cinderella, but maybe the bathtub would be an appropriate substitution.
I was so dramatic. Grandma Jen would be proud of that little tangent for sure.
I put the glass down and looked up in time to see Isaac walking past the front of my house. He paused for a moment, and I turned around so it didn’t look like I was stalking him.
Not that I was stalking him. Although there was every chance it would remain on the list of options.
I mean, if I was going to get arrested for stalking someone, it may as well be someone as hot as him.
It wasn’t in the plans, you understand.
Jesus Christ, my mind wasn’t even making sense to me anymore.
Was this panic? Was this how it ended for me? Was I going to answer the door in a hot mess of panic and freaking out?
Oh, God, I was.
Three knocks at my door jolted me out of my inner monologue. Just.
I took a deep breath and went to answer the door. I pulled it open and froze when I saw Isaac. He was standing there in a light gray polo shirt that made his eyes seem extra green, and a smile played on his lips, but it was the gorgeous bunch of pink and red flowers he was holding that made me pause.
“You brought me flowers?”
His smile widened. “Well, we never actually decided if we were calling this a date or not, so I didn’t wear a shirt in case you thought I thought it was. Then I didn’t want you think I didn’t care, so, here we are.” He held the flowers up by way of a final explanation.
I took the flowers from him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile went even wider. “I’m glad you like them.”
“Yoo-hoo!”
Oh, God, no.
Not Mrs. Keighley.
I leaned forward and poked my head out of the door.
It was Mrs. Keighley.
“Good evening, Mrs. Keighley,” Isaac said politely. “How was your day?”
Why was he engaging her in conversation? He was too nice for his own good.
“Mrs. Keighley,” I muttered.
She looked between us. “Are you having a date?”
“No,” I replied. “Just dinner between friends.”
“Then why do you have flowers?”
“It’s a date,” Isaac said quickly, reaching out and touching my arm. “Our food is about to be delivered, and I’d hate to be rude…”
“Oh, of course! I was just wondering…”
Of course she was.
“Do you have any time to see to Snuffles this week? She’s not eating as much, and I meant to come by today, but I had an emergency…”
Snuffles? Who the hell was Snuffles?
Isaac smiled warmly. “Sure. Bring him by in the morning. You might have to wait a bit, but I’ll see her.”
“Thank you!” She clasped her hands to her chest. “Now I’ll let you kids get to your date.”
“Good night, Mrs. Keighley.” Isaac pushed me inside and stepped in, quickly shutting the door behind him. “Bloody hell,” he whispered. “She’s hard work.”
I just about resisted the urge to hit him with the flowers. “What did you tell her this was a date for? Now she’s gonna go tell everyone!”
“It is a date.” He grinned lopsidedly. “You know it is.”
I forced a pout onto my face and walked inside. “Whether it is or not, now Grandma is gonna be on my ass because we told her it wasn’t a date.”
“Your grandmother is a hoot. Where does she get her crazy from?”
“I have no idea. She probably buys it in bulk from China or something.” I shook my head and put the flowers in the sink. I wasn’t even sure I had a vase, but maybe a glass would work if I cut the stems.
I filled the sink with water and left the flowers there. “No vase,” I explained.
Isaac’s lips tugged to one side. “Of course. Do you want me to get one from my place?”
A knock at the door answered the question.
“No, that’s the food. I’ll buy one tomorrow.” I smiled and scooted past him to the door. I opened it, grabbed the food, and pulled some money from the bowl on the side table to tip him. Once he’d left, I closed the door and took the pizza through to the living room where Isaac was pouring the wine.
I put all the food down on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the sofa.
Isaac surveyed all the boxes. “Are we expecting anyone else?”
I frowned. “No. Why?”
“You ordered half the pizza place, Hannah.”
“I didn’t know what to order.” I shrugged and reached forward, opening each box. “So I went for a little of everything. Oh, wait! I have paper plates in the cupboard!”
I got up and ran to the kitchen, retrieving two paper plates and some napkins. He smirked at me when I sat down.
“Why not just get normal plates?”
“Because,” I said, handing him a plate and some napkins. “There’s a bunch of flowers in my sink where I would wash the normal plates. I can just throw these out.”
He took the plate with a roll of his eyes. “All right. You win there.”
“I know.” I flashed him a grin and pulled a slice of pizza out of the box. I took a bite off the end and popped it on my plate while he laughed at me. “Who is Snuffles, by the way?”
CHAPTER NINE – HANNAH
Hannah and Isaac Sitting In A Tree
“Snuffles?” Isaac laughed, holding onto his slice. “That’ll be Mrs. Keighley’s hamster.”
“Her hamster?”
He shrugged, chewing. When his mouth was empty, he said, “Yep. She has this tiny little Russian dwarf hamster. She’s smaller than my palm and is constantly escaping her cage, and she’s extra paranoid about her eating something she shouldn’t.”
I licked pizza sauce from my thumb. “That sounds like a lot of hard work.”
“It’s a lot of money for her,” he agreed. “She’s always bringing her in to be checked over.”
“What’s she gonna do when it dies? Don’t they live for like two weeks?”
“About a year.” His eyes flashed with laughter. “This is actually Snuffles three-point-oh.”
“Three-point-oh?”
“Snuffles the Third,” he confirmed. “When one dies, she goes and buys another one and just calls it Snuffles. Her hamsters always seem to stop eating before they die, so I imagine we’ll see Snuffles the Fourth before long.”
“Isn’t that a little strange?” I tilted my head to the side, pinching a potato wedge.
“I think she likes it that way. She’s accustomed to her hamsters, and for the most part, they don’t require a ton of care the way a cat or dog would. As long as she cleans it and feeds it every day, that’s really it. She’s not getting any younger, and I think she likes the company.”
“She has a husband!”
“He still works,” Isaac replied. “She’s alone most of the day. It’s why she’s always in her garden. I think her hamsters give her companionship when her husband is called away.”
“I guess I never thought of it like that.”
“But to answer your question, yes. It’s a little strange.”
I fought a smile and looked down at the pizza slice on my plate. It was weirdly comfortable being here with Isaac, even as the conversation wound down and we both ate. Lucifer got up and left at one point, clearly unhappy that no pepperoni was forthcoming from the pizza.
“How is he doing?” Isaac asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Is the medicine working?”
I nodded, patting the corner of my lips with a napkin. “He’s still a little snuffy and there are snot marks all over my kitchen wall where his bed is, but he’s back to normal and playing with my socks every ten minutes.”
“Sounds about right for a kitten. Has he bitten your toes yet?”
“We’re not here to discuss the kitten, are we?”
“No, but I was just trying to keep you talking.” He grinned and leaned back on the sofa, running his fingers through his hair.
“I’ll talk.” I sat back and tucked my feet to one side. “What made you decide to become a vet?”
“Wow. We’re going there, huh?”
“You’re the one who decided this was a date tonight. This is what I want to know on a first date.”
He inclined his head in my direction. “Fair enough. I guess I decided to be a vet when I was about ten. My grandparents owned a farm in South-West England and when we were there one summer their dog fell ill. The vet could never figure it out, and the dog died. They did an autopsy to determine the cause of death and it turned out one of the workers Grandpa had hired for the summer hadn’t closed the barn door properly and she’d gotten in at some of the poison that was put down for rats.”
“Oh, no.”
He nodded solemnly. “The vet should have realized she was poisoned and moved to help her throw it up. My grandparents were devastated, and I told my grandma then that I was going to become a vet to make sure that didn’t happen to any other dogs.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Also somewhat misguided.” He smiled wryly. “I almost went into human medicine, but then my grandma was diagnosed with cancer and I knew I had to keep my promise to her. She died two weeks after I qualified.”
“I’m sorry. I bet she was happy to see you qualify though.”
“She really was. I really do love animals, so it’s not like it was a hard decision to follow this path.”
I propped my head up on my hand. “What’s your favorite animal?”
“That I see in the clinic?”
“No, the ones we’re waiting on the aliens to drop off.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it like that. I do know that I hate ducks.”
That was so random I burst out laughing. “Ducks?”
“When I was a kid, there was a duck on my grandparents’ farm. I don’t know why but the bloody bird hated me and chased me every time it saw me. It’s a bit of a deep-rooted hatred, but I squirm like a bitch every time one gets brought into the clinic.”