I’ve been killing myself for years to give Piper the best I can. Now Miss-know-it-all-about-sex waltzes in next door and immediately starts commenting on my ability to be a father.
Tells Piper she needs to take her shopping for girl shit. Because I’m not good enough.
Fuck her.
“Hey,” Avery says. I’d recognize her silky voice anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?
I duck out from under the hood and stand to my full height. Avery’s standing there in tight jeans and a button top that doesn’t quite have enough buttons done up. A can of beer is in each of her hands.
“Want one?” she says, holding a beer out to me.
“What do you want?” I say, ignoring the beer.
“We’re new neighbors, and haven’t met properly. I thought I’d come over and formally introduce myself,” she says, still holding up the beer.
“We’ve met twice, remember?”
“I don’t know if those really counted. After all you didn’t even tell me your name.”
“You know it, but I’ll tell you it again if you want. It’s Knox. Satisfied?”
“Well I’m just so glad I moved to this new town where I don’t know anyone, and of all the people in this world, I moved to the house beside yours.”
Goddamn it, what is her problem?
“Lucky you,” I say.
Avery huffs, and drops the hand holding the beer to her side.
“Fine. You don’t want to be a civil neighbor, whatever, but Piper has asked for me to take her shopping. She’s lacking something,” She pauses before adding, “Obviously.”
“Obviously?” I raise my eyebrows and smirk at her.
She sighs. “Can we just not talk about this? For Piper?”
I take a breath, blocking out the effect her voice is having on my cock. She’s right. As much as she annoys the hell out of me, Piper is what matters. And if she’s right and Piper was the one who asked her for the shopping trip, then I need to let it happen.
Moving around the car, I lean in and cut the engine. I stand again, and grab her eyes in mine. Holding them, I move closer to her, lean and grab the beer from her hand. Avery’s lips slightly part as she watches me open the can and take a sip.
“Okay, you want us to meet? I restore classic cars for a living. What do you do?”
I lean back against the Mustang and hold the can to my lips. This should be interesting.
“I’m a writer.”
“A writer?”
“Yeah, like an author.” She says it like I don’t even know what a book is.
“What do you write about? Smut?” She flinches when I emphasize the word smut.
“No,” she says with nervous laughter, “I write about murder-mystery stuff, you know?”
“So, no naughty parts?”
“Um, no.” Avery looks like she doesn’t know whether to be more offended, confused or outraged.
At least she isn’t going around telling people what she really does. This relaxes me. She won’t tell Piper.
“Got any pets?” I ask, stifling a smirk.
“No pets.”
“No plans to get a kitten?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” She has no idea what I’m referring to.
“Kittens are lots of fun to play with, but get annoying once you’re done playing with them,” I say.
“I’ve never had one.” She looks at me sideways. Maybe she’s catching on.
A black Tahoe pulls across the end of my driveway and the rear door flings open.
“Avery!” Piper says, running from her friend’s SUV.
I raise my hand to thank the mother for driving her home.
“Have a good day at school?” Avery asks as Piper reaches the garage.
“Meh, it’s school.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, extending my arms to hug her.
Denied.
Apparently thirteen year olds no longer like to hug their dads. Especially in front of someone else.
My heart sinks into my gut. It’s just another sign I’m losing my little girl.
“Are you guys planning our shopping trip?” Piper asks, looking between me and Avery.
“Yep,” Avery says, ignoring me. “We’re all set. The mall on Saturday.”
Acid turns in my stomach. The fucking nerve. My jaw clenches.
Piper jumps up and down and yells “Thank you, Dad!”
She bounces her way to me and flings her arms around me. I wrap my arms tight around my baby girl and swing her around the way I used to. God, this is good. I’d do anything to make Piper happy.
“Just be sensible,” I say. “Don’t make Avery stay there for hours, and don’t spend too much money.”
“Can I have extra allowance?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Of course. But you don’t have to buy your stuff from your allowance, I’ll give you other money for that.”
Piper squeals and says, “Oh my God, you’re the best dad ever.”
I set her down to rub my ear.
“Stop saying ‘oh my God,’” I say.
“I have to pee,” Piper says, and runs into the house.
Lifting the beer can to my mouth, I take a long pull, wondering what the fuck to say to Avery. Don’t interfere with my parenting. You should’ve asked me if I was okay with the shopping trip first.
Don’t hurt my baby girl.
Avery doesn’t say anything. She watches as I suck down the rest of the beer she brought me. Was it her idea of a peace offering?
The only peace offering that would work is an apology for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.
I drop the can on the garage floor and stare into her eyes.
“Guess we’re done here. I have to get back to work.”
Without waiting for her to respond, I turn and duck my head back under the hood.
“Is this a Mustang?”
Why isn’t she leaving? Is she trying to find another part of my life to stick her nose in?
I grunt.
“I’ve never been in one. But I’ve always wanted a ride in an old Mustang,” she says. It’s her smoothest, sexiest, radio dj voice.
The tool I’m holding falls from my hand and clatters against the metal of the engine and my dick springs to life.
I grunt again, needing her to leave. Now. Before I give her a ride she’ll never forget.
“That’s it?” she says. “Seriously? It’s been a pleasure talking to you. Really. We should have beers more often, neighbor.”
I clear my throat, and sink a little deeper against the car. I need to stop interacting with her.
Avery
What a jerk. I slam my front door behind me as I retreat into my house.
That didn’t go according to plan. The idea was I bring him beer and he turns out to be a really great guy who’s going to be a fabulous neighbor and help me with all sorts of things, like clearing my gutters.
How did Piper end up being so vivacious with him as her father?
It must be from being so damn hot. When he ducked out from under the hood of that car, I gulped. I, Avery Sloane, actually felt nervous.
I never feel intimidated when talking to anyone. Especially not a man.
But damn, his tight t-shirt didn’t leave any doubts about how muscular he is. And his arms were covered in some of the sexiest tattoos I’ve ever seen. All cars and car-related stuff, for once someone whose tattoos represent who they are instead of who they dream of being. He even smells like his tattoos.
When he came and took the beer from my hand, I was overcome by his delicious scent. A combination of grease, oil, sweat and him. Somehow it mixed together to send his already raw sex appeal into the stratosphere. The closer he came to me, the more heat I felt burning inside me.
What a shame.
Though it’s probably a good thing. At least now I’m not tempted by him.
After pouring the rest of my beer down the kitchen sink, I head up to my fake bedroom to get s
ome work done.
I’ve already filmed two videos this morning. Both were part of my Ask Avery Anything series. People either email or message me questions about sex, and I answer.
Today’s questions were how to deal with bad breath and how far should you go to act out your girlfriend’s fantasies. I can get quite passionate when answering, it’s what my viewers love and expect.
Now I have to edit the videos I just shot. My cluttered desk is in front of the window, and I sit at it, facing out the window.
Outside, I can see Knox working on his car. More specifically, I can see his muscular frame moving around the car as he works on it. My fake bedroom is on the second floor, but it’s on the side of his garage and I’m actually physically close to him.
I fight the urge to open the window and yell at him.
Focus. I have to forget about having to live beside him for the next however many years and think about work. God, I hope he moves.
Maybe moving to this town was a mistake. Maybe I should’ve stayed in Cincinnati.
Depressed, I FaceTime Darla. Her red hair fills the monitor.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” she says, exaggerating a frown.
“You know, it’s just getting set up in a new town where you don’t know anyone. I just wanted to talk to a friend, is all.”
The second I say it, I curse myself and brace for her lecture.
“Tell me you’ve gone out and met people.”
Ugh.
“Actually, as a matter of fact I’ve met my next door neighbor.”
She mock smiles in surprised approval. “Very good. What’s she like?”
“It’s a he, actually,” I say, wondering why I brought Knox into this.
“Is he hot?” Darla leans into the webcam in anticipation.
“Whoa, how do you know he’s not eighty?”
“That wasn’t the question. You can be eighty and be hot, you know. Now spill.”
“He’s a single dad, to this really cool thirteen-year-old girl.”
“So he’s single, excellent. Is he also hot?”
“You have a one-track mind,” I say, chuckling.
“Yes, now answer the question.”
“Let’s just say you won’t be disappointed when you come visit.”
“Fuck, yeah, baby. Are you sure you don’t want him for yourself?”
“No thanks, he’s actually a dick.”
“As long as he knows how to use his, he can be all the dick he wants.”
“Easy girl,” I say, giggling.
Movement outside the window catches my eye. Knox is standing, moving around the back of his car. I quickly point my laptop out the window.
“What’s that?” Darla asks.
“It’s him. Tell me when you see him,” I say, moving the laptop. I can’t see the laptop screen to know if he’s showing in view or not.
“Down more. More. Holy fuckballs, babe,” Darla says and whistles.
“And that’s from far away. You should see him up close.” I pause and add, “And smell him.”
“Damn. Why does he have to be an ass shat?”
“That’s what I keep asking myself,” I blurt.
“You should totally fuck him.”
I burst out laughing. “As if. He won’t even have a conversation with me. Not that I want to sleep with him anyway, he’s my neighbor and that would be messy. I just want to have a normal, neighborly relationship.”
“So you won’t mind if I fuck him when I come visit?”
“Good luck. Actually, probably a good idea. If you sleep with him, maybe you can convince him to be civil to me.”
“Hey, babe.”
“Yeah?”
“His face is just as good, too. He’s standing staring straight at the webcam.”
“Fucking hell! Why didn’t you say anything?” I shriek as I yank the laptop away from the window as fast as I can.
What do I do? He’s going to think I’m a weirdo. He’ll be ruder than he already is.
Oh God, what if he starts asking questions. What if he digs into me and finds out what I do?
“You okay?” she asks.
“No, I’m not okay. How am I going to explain that?”
“It’s no big deal, just tell him your friend is coming to visit and wanted to check out the goods on offer.”
“You know what, I take it back. You’re not allowed to sleep with him.”
“What? Why?”
“Because… because.”
“That isn’t an answer, but I get it. I’m leaving him for you. You’ve clearly got the horn on for him.”
“I do not.” I say, daring a glance out the window at him. “He’s eye candy, nothing more.”
I force myself to remember the rest of my time in the garage, and how he wouldn’t even have a normal, civil conversation with me, especially after Piper went inside.
Jerk.
“That’s fine, you need some eye candy after Nathan anyway.”
My heart wrenches again. Like the whole Knox thing isn’t bothering me enough, why did she have to go and say that name?
“Nathan can fuck himself,” I say, my teeth gritted.
“Want to hear the latest?”
“No! Wait, fine, tell me.”
“His fiancée is his younger sister’s old college roommate. She came to visit his sister, they met, and ended up engaged,” she says, pointing to her ring finger.
“Poor girl, doesn’t she have any standards?”
“I know, right?”
“I don’t understand why I stayed with him so long. He was so boring – in and out of bed.”
Why did I waste so much of my life with him? Sure he was charming at first, but he stopped trying pretty damn fast. By that point we were living together, and it was too comfortable, I suppose.
That’s probably why he got engaged so fast, so when he stops trying she’ll be even more sucked in than I was.
At least I know he never cheated on me, that would’ve taken effort. He was far happier on the couch, staring at the TV with his hands down his pants.
Through the computer, I hear her doorbell. “Okay, gotta go. Talk soon.”
“Love you,” I say.
“Love you too, babe,” Darla says.
I sit motionless, wondering what to do next.
Knox
Why is she pointing her laptop out the window? Is she filming me? I fight the churning in my gut and don’t go pound on her door. As much as I want to barge into her house to demand answers and make it clear she’s never to video me again, I fight the urge.
Or whatever it is she’s doing.
She’s different, I’ll give her that much.
I work another hour, retesting and re-tweaking every last mechanical element of the ’71 Mustang before I drive it over to Marcus tomorrow. He’ll give the interior and exterior one final polish and shine before handing it over to the buyer.
He deals with most of the face-to-face client stuff, because he says I’m too rude. Whatever. I let him do it because then it’s one less thing for me to do. Though he always seems to need my ‘help’ when the client is a woman.
At six, I head inside.
“Supper!” I call to Piper.
I take two plates out of the cupboard and spoon on some chili from the simmering pot on the stove. It’s the best dish I make, and Piper’s favorite food.
After I set the dishes on the small kitchen table, I plop a microwaved bag of rice and a tub of sour cream in the middle of the table. I put a can of coke beside her plate, and a can of beer beside mine.
“What’s tonight?” Piper says as she bounds into the room. She walks to the fridge with the coke, puts it back, and grabs a glass of water instead.
“Chili night.”
“Cool.”
“Just cool? I thought it was your favorite.”
“It used to be. But not anymore,” she says and shovels a
spoonful of sour cream onto her plate.
Is this another thirteen-year-old thing?
“What’s your new favorite?” I ask. I’ll make it for her tomorrow.
I tear open the bag of rice and shake some onto each of our plates.
“I don’t know. I can’t decide.”
“Oh well, you can have more than one food you like best.”
Piper’s bottom lip sticks out, the way it did when she was little and trying to figure out a problem. With her fork, she mixes her rice, chili and sour cream into an unappetizing mess.
“Dad.” The seriousness of her voice puts me on alert.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I don’t have any favorite things.” Her shoulders slump.
“So? What does that matter?”
Piper drops her fork and looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot who ever lived. “I can’t decide on any favorite things!”
“That’s fine. I don’t have favorite things either.”
“You have a favorite band, it’s the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I don’t even have a favorite band.”
“But that’s no big deal. You like lots of songs.”
“It is a big deal, it makes me boring.”
“You’re not boring. It probably makes you more interesting.”
“It’s doesn’t. It makes me weird. How am I supposed to answer generic first-date questions? I’m doomed.”
My heart hammers against my ribs at the thought of her dating. I can barely bring myself to think about it.
“Boys don’t care about your favorite things,” I say, leaning over my plate and dangling my fork from my fingers.
“They don’t? What else would we talk about? And don’t say politics.”
The topic makes my shoulders tense.
“All sorts of thing. Movies, sports.”
“And kissing. Is it true they like to talk about s-e-x?”
My fork falls from my hand, and I clear my throat. My heart and brain nearly explode. I can’t believe she said that to me. Though part of me is glad she’ll talk about anything to me. I guess.
But the thought of some boy kissing Piper is too much.
“It depends on the guy. Only the jerks would talk about that, you can do better.”
“Maybe I should talk to Avery about it,” she says.
“Why? You can talk to me about it.”
Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy Page 37