Neighbors

by Ashleigh Royce

  A small red hatchback pulls up to the front of my house. The pizza delivery guy gets out of the car with the box of pizza in his hand. “Twelve fifty,” he says.

  I trade him the twenty for the box. “Keep it,” I tell him. I just want him to leave so I can stare at Dylan without interruption.

  The delivery guy gives me a wide smile. “Thanks.” He runs back to his car and takes off. The smell of pizza wafts through the air as I stare over the box at my unbelievably yummy new neighbor.

  “Well, I won’t keep you from your dinner. I just wanted to return your plate. The cookies were delicious. Thank you. It was nice of you to welcome me to the neighborhood like that.”

  I can’t take my eyes off of him, particularly his mouth. Feelings I haven’t felt in a long time start to edge back.

  Offering me my plate, just inches from his dirty, sweaty body, my mind conjures an image of me licking cookie crumbs off his chest. Stop that, I silently rebuke. I know I should just take the plate and let him go, but I don’t want him to leave. Every one of my synapses sparks to life. I take the plate and place it on top of the pizza box. How can I keep him here? “Say, would you like to stay for pizza? There’s no way I’m going to eat more than two slices from this pie. And, it looks like you’ve been working pretty hard all day. I bet you haven’t eaten much.”

  His large brown eyes look into mine. “I don’t want to impose. I mean you don’t even know me.”

  “Well, I’m going to have to get to know you, right?” And the list of ways of how is increasing in my head.

  His eyebrow arches again. Why is that so sexy?

  Okay, okay. I don’t want to scare him off. “We’re going to be neighbors,” I clarify, but I’m not sure if that explanation is for him or for me.

  “Well, okay.” He crosses my threshold and walks into the house. “If you’re sure.” As he passes, I get a sample of that great clean cotton smell again, this time mixed with him.

  “Just make yourself comfortable while I change.” I clutch the front of my robe closed.

  “Thanks,” he says and takes a seat on the couch.

  After several minutes of searching through the closet for something acceptable to wear, I opt for a red tee shirt and a pair of white denim shorts. I know that Tracy would say it’s too ‘safe’ but it’s rude to leave him alone in the living room any longer while I try on different combinations of clothes. My hair is still wet, so I pull it into a ponytail and apply a little mascara and blush, just so I don’t look like the walking dead. Then I walk into the kitchen, grab two bottles of water, and some paper plates.

  “Sorry for the disposable dishware. I don’t have any real plates. My ex-husband got them in the divorce.” Mentally, I slap my forehead. Don’t share that. You don’t want him to think you’re a loser.

  “That’s okay. I use paper all the time, too.” Ah, a bachelor. I hand him a plate with a slice of pizza on it. “How long have you been divorced?”

  Great, now he’ll think I’m a failure. Stupid, impulsive mouth. “Just about eight months now, but it ended long before that.”

  He waits for more of an explanation.

  I don’t want him to think that I’m a bitch too, and before I know it, I spill the details. “I caught him in bed with a colleague of mine. I’m an ER nurse. He’s a cardiologist in the same hospital. I worked a double shift and when I went to the lounge to catch a few hours of sleep, he was playing doctor with another nurse. I was so stupid to marry him. I can’t believe I fell for all of his crap.” Ashamed of my past, I look down at my pizza.

  “Sorry,” Dylan says.

  I’m not sure if I’m more mortified that I had just told a total stranger my business or if it was that I told my new, incredibly hot, neighbor, the one I’d probably be dreaming of tonight.

  “What are you sorry for?” I hope I can do some damage control.

  “You seem like a nice person. I don’t like when nice people get hurt.”

  His initial assessment of me makes me smile. It had been a long time since anyone considered how I felt. Once he slipped the ring on my finger, Greg didn’t care if I even woke up in the morning. “Thanks. But, I’m better off without him. He was secretive and controlling, and selfish. I prefer honesty, no matter what.”

  He cocked his head, challenging me to continue.

  “He wanted to know every move I made, what my hours were, who I was working with, if there were any new doctors in the ER, where I was going after work, that kind of stuff. In reality, he just wanted to know if the coast was clear for him to operate. The girl I found him with wasn’t the only time he was unfaithful to me. I learned about all of his indiscretions after I caught him. I’m glad he’s out of my life.” Wanting to get off of the topic of my poor choice in mates, I ask, “Are you married?” Please say no. Please say no.

  A smile appears on his face. Two rows of perfect teeth part slightly. “No. I haven’t found the right girl yet. But, I’m looking.”

  My shoulders relax. Feeling awkward that Dylan knows so much about me now and all I know is that he just moved in across the street, he hadn’t found the right girl yet, and that I wondered what he looked like without any clothes on, I change the subject again.

  “So what do you do…for a living, I mean?”

  “I’m in construction.” That explains the muscles. “I frame houses mostly, but I do other aspects of the trade. So if you ever need anything fixed, just let me know. I’d be happy to help you out, especially if cookies are involved.” He flashes his wonderful smile.

  A warm rush coasts through me as I immediately think of my libido that needs fixing. “Thanks.” I look away, hoping he doesn’t see me blush. A few moments of silence pass before I ask, “What made you move to this little town?”

  “My dad, you met him before, he and his new wife live in the area in one of the bigger houses on the other side of the district. My brother, Michael, and I come to visit him a lot. I usually pass this house whenever I’m in the area. I’ve always liked it and when I saw the shingle saying it was for sale, I decided to buy it. I knew it needed a lot of work on the inside, but it has potential.” As he talks, I find myself staring at his lips. It’s distracting. I want to taste them, feel them on me, but I sit back on the couch and try to concentrate on what he’s saying.

  His smile is suggestive. “And I like a good challenge.” Still mesmerized by his mouth, I wonder how it would feel pressed against mine. His lips look soft and warm. “How about you? Why’d you move here?”

  “Oh, well, my ex got almost everything in the divorce – the house, the expensive car, the dishes. I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him. I’m renting this house from my brother. He said I could use it since he’s living with his girlfriend right now. But he could come back at any time and I’d be out on the street.” I laugh, hoping I sound funny. It’s a nervous laugh. “It’s fine for now, but I’ve been scanning the real estate section of the paper.”

  “You have a nice laugh,” Dylan says. His comment catches me off guard. My heart skips a beat and I feel my cheeks flush. “Well, if you need someone to take a look when you find something, I’d be happy to make sure it’s structurally sound. When you’re ready, of course.”

  With a neighbor like him, I may never move. Even if my brother moves back in, I might have to erect a tent in the backyard just so I can see Dylan every day. “Thanks,” I say.

  Dylan can’t hold back a yawn and I see that the physical part of his day is catching up to him. As he stretches, I admire the contours of his body through his shirt. I think about what it would feel like to have his sculpted arms around me.

  “Well, I’d better get going. I still have to find my sheets and towels and take a shower.” He stands up. “Thanks for the pizza and your hospitality,” he says, walking to the door.

  “Sure, any time.” Think of a reason to keep him here, my brain begs.

  “I’m looking forward to being neighbors.” His tone is genuine.

  I peer
out from behind my curtains to watch him walk the few hundred yards toward his own front door. His jeans make his butt look wonderful. I lean against the inside of the door and think about how much I like my new neighbor.

  Four

  I clean up and toss out the trash. After changing into my pajamas, I sit on the couch and channel surf, trying hard not to think of my new neighbor, but I can’t get Dylan out of my head. His wonderful smile and warm eyes… and hot body, are etched in my brain.

  I start to nod off during Letterman’s monologue but a low knock causes me to jump. It takes a moment for me to register it’s the front door. I look out the peephole. Dylan is on the other side. Happiness swells inside me. I fling the door open.

  His expression looks as if he’s been caught stealing. “I’m so sorry to bother you again. I don’t have hot water. I’m just too wiped out to deal with the pipes in my basement. Do you think I could use your shower? I know we’ve only just met, but I won’t be able to go to sleep unless I’m clean.” Dimples highlight his cheeks and he’s carrying a small bundle of clothes.

  I guess my name is on Santa’s Good List. “Sure, no problem. It’s right in here.” I lead him to the bathroom and give him a quick run down of the controls. I reach into the closet and pull out a couple of clean towels. My hand brushes his as I pass them to him. A surge of energy travels up my arm. He smiles and closes the bathroom door and I run to my phone. I wait until I hear the water run.

  “Tracy, I’m sorry to call so late, but you’re not going to believe this.” Then, in the lowest voice I can possible whisper in, I tell her about pizza and the hot guy in my shower.

  “Oh my god, Mel. You so have to do him.”

  “What?! I don’t even know him.”

  “Who cares? He’s gorgeous and he’s in your shower right now, naked. When are you ever going to get a more perfect opportunity?”

  “Tracy, I can’t do that.”

  “Why not, Mel? You haven’t had sex in like two years.”

  “First of all, he just moved in. He hasn’t even spent one night in his house yet. Second, he’s a stranger. I don’t know anything about him. Third, what if it backfires, or doesn’t work out? How am I going to look at him every day? Fourth, it’s only been seventeen months since I’ve had sex. And fifth… wait, I don’t have a fifth.”

  “Mel, he’s super hot. He has the face of Adonis and the body of young Arnold Schwarzenegger. And, he’s naked in your shower. You’re crazy if you don’t take advantage of this situation. Go offer to wash his back... or his front. Besides, if it doesn’t work out it isn’t your house. You can move out.”

  “And go where, Tracy?”

  “You can crash here until you find a place. I have plenty of room now. But it will work out, Mel. I say go for it. Take a chance.”

  “I’ve got to go, the water just went off.”

  Before I hang up the phone, Tracy says, “You’d better call me tomorrow. I want to know if he’s as good as I imagine he is.”

  I throw myself onto the couch and try not to look guilty.

  Several minutes pass as I attempt to focus on the television, but all I can think of is the gorgeous, sexy man, naked in my shower. Immoral thoughts fill my head. I try to quash them but I can’t. They mix with shame when he appears in a clean tee shirt and jeans, which fit nicely in all the right spots. Wet curls drip down the sides of his head, and he smells of my shampoo. Tracy’s words play over and over in my head. “… do him.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, I used your shampoo. Mine is still packed in one of the boxes. It’s going to take days to put all of the essentials away.”

  Mind? He could use whatever he wanted, especially if it meant he’d be naked in my house. “That’s fine,” I say. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” I don’t want him to leave. He is too nice to look at.

  “Nah, I’ve imposed on you enough. Plus, I feel as if I’m going to crash. Thanks though. You’ve been extremely generous, especially since we’ve only just met. I hope I can return the favor one day.”

  Mentally, I’m making a list of the ways he can return the favor, all of which involve him being naked.

  I walk behind him to the door. He reaches for the doorknob, stops, and suddenly turns. I don’t expect it and almost walk into him. His face is close to mine. Large brown eyes look into my soul. He smells of clean cotton and my shampoo. The energy between us is palpable. I wonder if he can feel my heartbeat through the tiny space between us.

  “Thank you again,” he says. His lips are so close. I feel their pull. A knot forms in my stomach. I want to kiss him, but he’s right, we only just met a few hours ago. He’d probably never talk to me again if I do. That wouldn’t be a good way to start off with my new neighbor.

  “You’re welcome.” I say in a dreamy, sing-song voice.

  A grin appears on his face and then he is out the door. I wait until his door closes before I shut mine.

  My brain doesn’t let my body sleep. Instead, I stare at the ceiling. I try to come up with as many excuses for running out of sugar as I can. I wonder how many is too many before it’s considered stalking.

  Five

  I reach past the blanket to shut the alarm clock. Five thirty. It’s my second day off, but I like to keep my routine. I get dressed and make a cup of coffee and some whole-wheat toast. The newspaper had been thrown on the front lawn just where the sprinkler water pools up. Before walking back into the house I look over at my new neighbor’s house. In the upstairs windows, I see Dylan folding clothes. I lift my hand and wiggle a few fingers, but he doesn’t see me. Feeling foolish, I go back inside and finish my coffee while trying to concentrate on the newspaper. I find myself peeking out of the window several times. The phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “So, did you sleep with him?”

  “Tracy, I told you that I can’t do that.”

  “Yes you can, Mel. You’re such a wimp. I would have been all over the guy. He was naked in your house.”

  “He was borrowing my shower.”

  “Perfect opportunity. Have you seen him today?” She’s persistent.

  “I think he’s unpacking. I saw him through the window when I went out for the paper.”

  “See? You want him. You could go over and offer to help him unpack…his personals.” Her tone is suggestive as she stresses the last word.

  “Tracy, will you stop it.”

  “Why? You need to move on, Mel. And he’s super hot. I bet he’s great in bed.”

  “Tracy!” But I had wondered the same thing.

  “Fine. Fine,” she offers back. “I’m thinking about going to that singles mix on Saturday. Wanna go?”

  “Um, I don’t know. I don’t really like meat markets.”

  “Well if you aren’t going to go after that hottie across the street, you have to get out and start meeting people. You’ve been out of the loop for too long. What kind of a friend would I be if I let you become an old maid? Hey, if I can get over that cheating asshole I was involved with in just two days, you can move on from Greg in eight months. Just think about it. Well, I have to go to work. Not all of us have three days off in a row.”

  We say goodbye and hang up, but her words linger in my brain. I could go over and offer to help him unpack; his towels, groceries, anything. I hear Tracy’s words tumble around in my head. Take a chance, Mel.

  Before I lose my nerve, I grab my house keys and place my hand on the doorknob. With my back straight, fresh air in my lungs, and my head held high, I tug on the handle and walk outside. It’s a beautiful, sunny, June day. Not too hot yet, but I can tell the temperature will climb later. Birds whistle their tune and I mentally cheer myself on. You can do this, Mel. You’re just offering to help him unpack. You’re being neighborly.

  With each step toward his house, my respirations increase. A million thoughts bounce around in my head and before I know it, I’m questioning my motives. I’ve never done anything this bold. I begin to question myself. What are you doing?
He’s going to think you’re a nutcase. What if he just wants to be left alone?

  At the top of his porch, I turn and am about to walk back home, but the door opens.

  “Melissa. Hi. I thought that was you walking across the street.” He’s holding a stack of several empty boxes, and he’s wearing the same tee shirt and jeans from last night. Now that looks yummy!

  “Good morning, Dylan. I came by to see how your first night was.”

  “Emptied some more boxes.” He walks to the edge of the street and gently lays the boxes down. His butt looks so good in his jeans. It triggers a whole host of inappropriate thoughts.

  “The garbage guys won’t take them like that,” I advise. “They need to be flat and tied up.” The naughty side of my brain says, Oh, that’s a possibility… but the rational side scolds. Stop that. Focus.

  “Oh, okay.” He lifts the boxes and brings them back to the house. It’s nice to see his arms flex. “Come on in.”

  “Oh no, I just wanted to see if you slept okay.”

  “It was strange being somewhere new. I couldn’t really sleep, so I started to unpack.”

  Tracy’s suggestion slips out of my mouth. “Do you need help? I mean, I could help you unpack.”

  “Nah, I’ve got it under control.”

  “Oh, okay.” Shot down. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. Everyone says I’m very well organized.”

  His perfect lips part and his dimples appear. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

  I can’t concentrate. Remember, he just turned you down. Go home, Mel. You’re pestering him.

  I linger just in case I’ve misinterpreted, as I hope. But he doesn’t say any more. Instead, he waves from his doorway. I finish my walk across the street. Once inside my door, I exhale and consider all the ways I messed that up. It brings to mind the day I realized the big mistake I made with Greg.