The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance

by Van Wyk, Jennifer

  “You said you’d seen the messages? How?”

  “It’s a crazy long story and one you’d probably not believe. I’m sorry Jeff did that to you.”

  I titter on my feet, feeling a little whoozy but Nick is there in a flash, holding me up. “Shouldn’t have given you that last beer. They were tall ones, too.”

  I smile at him and pat his cheek. “S’okay. Not your fault. I needed this tonight.”

  Nick calls out to get someone’s attention and after I say my goodbyes to Whitney and her friends who look eager to watch me leave, Nick puts me in his car and asks for my address.

  I give it to him and sit quietly as the beer and fried food settle in my stomach, souring as I think over the past few hours of my life.

  The second he pulls up to our driveway, I bail out of the seat, emptying my stomach right on the concrete. Nick’s by my side, holding back my hair and rubbing my back, not bothered at all by the fact that I’m vomiting up my dinner.

  When I’m finished, he helps me stand without a word and walks me to the door. I hand him my keys and he unlocks it, letting us both in. Toby greets me with a pathetic bark before sniffing at Nick and returning to me with kisses. The house is dark and a quick look into the attached garage shows me that Jeff isn’t here.

  I look at my phone to see a single text waiting for me.

  Jeff: I won’t be home tonight.

  That’s it. No explanation for where he will be. Not sure even why he’s telling me, since the last several weeks I haven’t crossed his mind.

  “He’s not coming home tonight so you don’t have to stay to protect me.”

  “How about I help you get some shit packed first? You can’t drive tonight anyway but we can get it loaded up so you can as soon as you’re sober.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to. Two sets of hands will make it go quicker.”

  “I just have my personal stuff, anyway. The furniture and everything is his.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll get it done. Coffee?”

  “Water. I need to sober up, like you said, and water usually helps.”

  He marches to the fridge and pulls out a few bottles, uncapping one and bringing it to me. I drink it down quickly then refill it out of the spigot in front of the fridge.

  I find all the boxes and my suitcases and laundry baskets I can to start loading everything up and within an hour, my life is boxed up and placed into my car. Pathetic, really. Saying goodbye to Nick, he promises to come visit me at The Landing as soon as the baby is a little older. He listened while I talked with Kyle on the phone and made arrangements for me to move back home. When I told Kyle I’d explain everything when I got there, he said “No, you’ll explain it when you get home. You’re coming home, sweet girl.” I almost started crying right then and there but held the tears back. Jeff wouldn’t get my tears. He doesn’t deserve them.

  “Thanks for everything, Nick. I don’t know if I would have had the energy to take care of all this tonight if you hadn’t been here.”

  “Consider it my payment for not working harder to stop him from cheating on you.”

  I laugh at that. “I told you it wasn’t your fault, but I’ll take it.”

  “Take care of yourself, Sierra.”

  “Take care of that beautiful family of yours, Nick.”

  “Plan to. See ya,” he says as he leaves and makes his way to his car.

  I go to the bathroom and wash my face with hand soap and brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush I found because all my toiletries have been packed away, and lie down on the couch, not wanting to get into the bed I once shared with Jeff. Toby jumps up, nestling into a nook he creates by my legs, and falls asleep within minutes.

  I, however, can’t seem to rest my brain enough to join him.

  I lift my phone and find the contact that I added for Jack before I forget the number.

  Me: So tonight was fun.

  I wait to see if he’ll reply, wondering what he’ll say if and when he does. I can just picture his face right now, annoyed that this is still happening.

  The three little dots appear and disappear letting me know that he’s typing, then thinking, typing, then thinking.

  Eventually they disappear completely with no text reply and I wonder if he’s done with the entire business of making these women think Jeff is actually a decent guy.

  Which clearly he is not. I was so, so wrong about him.

  He’s a teacher! He’s neat and tidy! Ugh. He doesn’t deserve even a second of my thoughts and yet I can’t help but wonder how I could be so wrong about a guy. How could I have missed the signs that he was just a cheating asshole? My parents might not have had a conventional relationship, but they never cheated. I know this to be true because we’ve actually talked about it. Once I was old enough to recognize the dysfunction as what it is, I sat my parents down and asked how they lived in a marriage full of such turmoil. Their response was smiling at each other and simply shrugging. It shouldn’t work, but it does. At the end of the day, there was no one they’d rather fight with (and make up later) than each other. Their eyes never strayed to others. They never felt tempted to step out on their marriage vows. They just… argued. To each their own, I guess? It still confuses me.

  My thoughts go back to Jack… wondering what it would be like to be with a man like him. Is he as honorable as he seems? Would the butterflies his grin gives me ever stop? Would his touch always be gentle or would it become something else entirely if we were between the sheets? Or on the kitchen counter. Or in his gym.

  Damn, I really need sex. Good. Hard. Sex. It’s been ages.

  I wonder what he’ll be like when I return to town. If he’ll be happy to see me or if it was all in my head and I just imagined the way he would stare a beat or two too long in my direction because I felt a little desperate for that sort of attention from a man.

  I fall asleep that night with Toby snoring and dreams of a happily ever after I never envisioned for myself. A happily ever after.

  With Jack Cole by my side.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SIERRA

  “I know, boy, I don’t want to leave you, either.” I kiss and hug and cuddle with Toby, feeling like my heart is breaking in two. Fat tears drip from my eyes as Toby guards the door to the garage so I can’t leave without him. He’s not stupid, he saw me packing all my belongings last night and knows what that means. Angry at Jeff that I have to leave. Not that I’ll miss Jeff. But Toby? Toby’s my baby.

  “You know what? Fuck it. You’re coming with me.” My rash decision to steal Jeff’s dog doesn’t bother me in the least. I quickly gather all of Toby’s things: his doggy bed that he rarely uses, his toy box, his food and water dish and the large bag of kibble, and shove it into my car. I lay a towel on my front seat and before I can think twice, Toby and I make a break for it.

  This is what my life has become.

  Living with the Toolbag.

  Stealing pets.

  On the run.

  And I don’t even care.

  As I drive away, I laugh hysterically, knowing how pissed Jeff is going to be when he gets home later to discover not only are all my things missing, but so is his dog. Will he even be mad that I left without a goodbye? Will he even care that I took his dog? Probably only because his pride will be wounded. Otherwise? I doubt it will faze him. In fact, he’ll likely be grateful that I am no longer a burden for him to worry over. He can now have one-night stand after one-night stand without a second thought.

  No concerns over if his live-in girlfriend will discover his lies.

  He can screw anything he wants.

  Good for him.

  Getting all the sex while I’m like a dried up sack of beans.

  I’m glad I purchased that new vibrator a few months ago. Maybe being away from Jeff will let me relax enough to actually have an orgasm. Lord knows I could use one. The last time Jeff and I had sex, it was done and over with in n
inety-two seconds. That’s right. I counted. Because it was so lack luster that I could lay there and count the seconds he was jackhammering into me before he collapsed on my chest, breathing heavily like he’d just finished running a marathon rather than a ninety second romp in the sack.

  I’ll ask one more time then I’m done, over the wallowing. Done. How was that my life? How? Okay, I guess it was twice but seriously… how did I allow myself to live that way?

  I glance over at Toby who’s sleeping peacefully curled up on my front seat. His back paws sticking out over the edge. I reach over and scratch behind his ear and he lets out a contented sigh.

  If nothing else, I got Toby out of the relationship. Albeit by way of thievery, but still. He’s mine and I’ll train him to bark and growl at Jeff if he ever tries to steal him back.

  Soon enough I’m pulling into Kyle’s driveway. He comes out of the front door and marches over to me as soon as I’m out of my car. “Good to have you back.”

  “Good to be back.”

  I let Toby out of the car after putting on his leash and look up at Kyle sheepishly. “I couldn’t leave him. I’m sorry, I know you’re not a dog person but he’s mine.”

  “Thought he was Jeff’s,” he says with a single eyebrow raised.

  I shrug and give him my best puppy dog eyes. “But…”

  “Don’t give me that look. You stole this dog. Are we going to have trouble?”

  “No.” I shake my head adamantly because I truly doubt Jeff will come looking for him. He might text or call me, but I can’t see him getting angry enough to come here for him.

  “Okay then. You can keep him.”

  I really wasn’t going to give him a choice but I show him my gratitude anyway, as does Toby, like he understood what we were saying. Toby licks his hand and I laugh at the grossed out expression on Uncle Kyle’s face.

  “I promise I’ll clean up after him and do all the work.”

  “You sound like an eight-year-old begging for a pet. I trust you. Now come on, let’s get your stuff inside.”

  It takes us several trips to get my car unloaded and my stuff placed into the spare bedroom I only vacated yesterday morning. I don’t have the energy to put it all away right now so I’ll take care of it later. Right now I just want to curl up on the couch with a large fountain soda, an extra cheesy pizza, and a good movie. Or a good book. I really don’t care as long as it takes me away from my current life situation.

  Twenty-seven.

  Homeless.

  Well, living with my uncle.

  Single.

  Thank goodness for that one.

  Petty thief.

  Let’s see… what else? Oh! I have a crush on a guy who’s been receiving my ex-boyfriend’s one-night stand texts. Great.

  It’s not so much that I don’t like my life, really. I just saw something bigger for myself at this point. But, maybe I’m focusing on all the negative rather than seeing the positive.

  I’m healthy.

  Great hair and skin.

  I love what I do for a living.

  I have a dog.

  That one makes me giggle to myself.

  Living with my uncle isn’t bad.

  He’s awesome and I love him dearly.

  Friends? Well, I don’t really have many of those. But I won’t add it to the negative or positive category just yet. Sometimes friends are a blessing. Sometimes they’re overrated. Right now, I’m just fortunate that I have a few in the online community that I’ve met through the website I sell my products through. Who says friends only happen in real life? These ladies understand my business and my passion for it. They support me and help me through the struggles. If that’s not a friend, I don’t know what is. It’s just that I don’t see them. Sure, they could be total and complete whackjobs and I don’t know it but my gut doesn’t lie. Aside from the whole Jeff thing so we’ll just call that one a learning experience.

  They’re my friends.

  I settled that one for myself.

  “Kyle?” I shout through the house because in Jeff’s house I wasn’t allowed to but Kyle doesn’t care.

  “Yes?”

  “Pizza? Please?”

  “Sure thing, honey! Let’s order in tonight. Extra cheese?”

  I come into the living room where he’s resting in his oversized brown La-Z-Boy, sweatpants and hoodie on with slippers on his feet. He looks cozy and comfortable and I can’t wait to dress exactly the same.

  “You know me well. What else?”

  “Sausage and green peppers?”

  “Yum. Let’s do it. Can we have them bring drinks, too? I am so in the mood for a bucket of cola.”

  He laughs and lifts the remote to pause whatever he’s watching on the TV. “Sounds good to me. How about we have them bring dessert, too? Wings?”

  I shake my head at the mention of wings. Too soon. Damn you, Jeff, for ruining my favorite food. Though, if I’m being honest with myself, I know I’ll be back to eating them in two days. I just need a day of mourning. Not the relationship, of course. My… well… I don’t know. I just know that I am not in the mood to eat wings again today.

  “No wings. Just… brownies? Do they have those?”

  “I’ll ask. Otherwise I think I’ve got a box of brownie mix in the cupboard. We could whip up a batch quick if you want.”

  “Oh, let’s do that while we wait for the pizza.”

  He stands up and moves in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders and bending down a little so we’re eye-to-eye. “Sure thing, honey. You gonna be okay?”

  I nod and offer up a smile before giving him a tight hug. Uncle Kyle gives the best hugs ever. None of that limp noodle arms banded around me. “Better than. I’ll tell you the story but first I want to change clothes and take a quick shower. I’ve been wearing this since last night.”

  “Go right ahead. You know where everything is. This is your home now. For however long you need it to be.”

  “Thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I head upstairs, stopping briefly in my new bedroom to grab some clothes and my toiletry bag then go across the hallway to take a shower.

  Clean, lotioned up, hair washed and towel-dried, I get into some of the comfiest clothes I own. Bulky hoodie, sweats that have definitely seen their better days, fuzzy socks, and best part? No bra.

  I make a quick stop back in my bedroom to look around. I have boxes and suitcases all over the plush tan carpeting. The full-size bed is simple. No headboard. White and tan comforter and sheet set. A plain dresser sits across from it. A mirror hangs from the wall. It’s not fancy, then again, neither is Kyle. And I’m not either. It suits me fine. It’s not permanent, but it’s warm and inviting and exactly what I need.

  Tomorrow I’ll tackle getting settled in.

  Tonight I plan to get a stomach ache eating my weight in pizza and brownies.

  “Say what now?”

  “You heard me right. The texts that Jack has been receiving were because of my cheating ex-boyfriend Jeff.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing lowly as I mix the brownie batter. I find Kyle’s secret (well, he thought it was) stash of candy and chop up some M&M’s, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and extra chocolate chips before spooning the batter into the baking dish he set out for me.

  “That’s not right.”

  “I know. It was crazy. This Whitney girl was about to go crazy but when she dumped a full glass of beer on Jeff’s head, I kind of wanted to bow to her. It was great.”

  He watches me as I slide the pan into the oven, shaking his head. “Fuck, I wish I could have seen that.”

  “Tsk, tsk, Uncle Kyle. You with your naughty words. Are we gonna need a swear jar?”

  “That thing would be filled by Monday. And not just from me.”

  “Touché.”

  I set the timer on the oven so I don’t forget to get the brownies out and move the bowl and spoon to the sink to give them a qu
ick wash.

  “And does Jack know this?”

  I look over my shoulder at him with a sly grin. “Not yet.”

  “You little shit. What did you do?”

  “I texted him. After Jeff was kicked out of the bar, I stayed and finished my meal because… duh, I’m not an idiot…”

  “Of course not…”

  “And then I had a few more beers and they flowed pretty well through me. So I marched over to Whitney Big Boobs and asked for her phone. Then I memorized the number and texted him to let him know what a good time I had that night.”

  “You were drunk?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  “You really think you memorized the right number?”

  My body goes solid and I turn to face him fully after turning the now clean brownie bowl upside down in the dish drainer. “Uh… I think so?”

  He laughs so hard he starts wheezing.

  “Oh, child. Only you. Did he respond?”

  “Not yet.”

  He hoots and then slaps the table. “I bet you anything you have the wrong number.”

  “No, I don’t! I remembered it!”

  “After four tall beers? Right.”

  He shakes his head and stands up, gets his phone off the charger on the counter, and scrolls through, rattles off a number. “That sound right?”

  “I don’t remember!”

  “Well, look!”

  I pull out my phone, grumbling about the old man not always having to be right. “Fine! Fine. Okay… what was his number again?”

  He says it and I know… I just know my face has to betray me. Shit.

  Shit!

  It was the wrong flipping number!

  “Kyle?”

  “Yes?” he asks, humor lacing his tone.

  “I may or may not have gotten a little cocky and not remembered it entirely correctly.” I tell him the number I have in my phone and he laughs even harder when there are only two correct. Two! Boy, drunken memory isn’t great.

  “You thought you were so clever.”

  “I did! I was! It’s all the beer’s fault, you know.”

  “Sure.” He nods a few times and gives me a placating look. He should just pat me on the head for good measure.