Rogue Devil

by Kylie Gilmore

  I step outside and get his text. Come on over.

  Half an hour later, I climb the steps to a corner brownstone in Park Slope and ring the bell. It’s my brother Sean’s place with his wife, Josie. Beast is house-sitting. He answers the door wearing a red apron over a gray T-shirt and jeans. “Great timing. I’m making enchiladas.”

  My mouth waters. “Awesome.” I follow him downstairs to the kitchen, where there’s a large center island with swivel stools that have intricate ironwork decorating the back. This place is so cool. I know Sean did most of the renovation work on it, but it’s Josie who decorated it. She’s got big bucks now with a couple of movies under her belt. No wonder Beast wanted to house-sit. The kitchen has top-of-the-line appliances, unlike the kitchen at our place.

  He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a beer for me, opening it, and handing it over.

  “Thanks.”

  “Yup.” He takes a sip of his beer and turns back to the stove, stirring something.

  I stare at his bulky shoulders. “You still lifting weights?” He had to leave his dumbbells at our place.

  He glances over his shoulder at me. “Yeah, Sean’s got weights in the basement.”

  I cup my hands over my mouth. “Bee-ee-ast.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sue me for liking being fit.”

  I consider telling him about my new neighbor. He knows her from Villroy, but then what would I say? The pretty redhead is living next door and we’re friends, but not really. He’ll want to know why I don’t make a move since I talked about her before like I was into her. How can I explain a casual hookup won’t work with our family connection, and I can’t risk screwing up a relationship? I’m not even sure I know how to have a relationship. I never have before. And who could forget her psycho assassin ex? I’m sure I’ll be seeing him at my next visit to Villroy. Maybe even with Chloe around too. It all comes back to the family connection.

  I won’t bring it up.

  I take a pull on my beer. “Whatcha doing tonight?”

  “Hitting up a bar later with the guys for some pool.” He turns off the burner and takes out a long baking dish from a cabinet in the island. “Next weekend me and the guys are going to a music festival in Delaware.” He’s really into travelling around to music festivals. He always meets a ton of women too.

  “Cool.” I could join him for pool. I know his friends, but I’m not in the mood for the bar scene. I’m friends with a couple of guys on crew, and we usually hit up underground parties in the city—some of them get pretty wild—but that doesn’t appeal either.

  Well, I’m not going to sit home with her next door studying her big brain out. I bet she’s home every night studying, which means I’ll have to go out every night. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. Sometimes a guy just wants to sit home with a beer and watch the game.

  “Guess who moved in next door?” I say louder than I mean to.

  He stops layering the enchiladas to stare at me. “Mallory?” My ex who bawled her eyes out after our three-week whatever it was ended. I thought it was just casual hookups. She thought it was a relationship. Nightmare.

  “No,” I say. “Geez, that would be bad. That’s stalker territory.”

  “You sound agitated. That’s the only woman you ever mentioned who seemed to make an impression.”

  “Yeah, because she threw a stiletto at my head.”

  He chuckles and turns, layering the enchilada dish with stuff he has lined up on the counter.

  “Besides, how do you know it’s a woman living next door?”

  He doesn’t bother turning around. “If it was a guy, you would’ve told me already. Instead you’re beating around the bush.” He looks over his shoulder at me with a knowing smirk.

  He’s smart about people. So irritating. “Okay, fine. It’s Adrian’s sister-in-law.”

  He doesn’t respond, focused on his work.

  “The redhead from Villroy.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I wave a hand through the air. “Just moved right on in next door. Now I have to deal with her studying there all the damn time.” I tip my bottle back, swallow down a fine IPA, and slam the bottle on the counter. “It’s Phillip’s friend’s building, so there’s that family connection making us neighbors. No warning from Phillip either. I should call him.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I mean, it’s just not right. We’re cousins. How hard is it to text: guess what, Chloe Travers is moving in next door for the summer. Seriously!”

  Silence.

  I watch as he finishes up the dish and slides it into the oven. He sets the timer, turns, and crosses his arms, pinning me with another knowing look.

  “What?” I ask, already feeling defensive.

  “Does Phillip believe Chloe is a shady character? Potential criminal element?”

  I twist my mouth to the side. “No.” He’s teasing, but I get it. Why would Phillip think it was a problem to do a favor for another member of the family? He probably knows Chloe better than he knows me or my brothers. “Still, a heads-up would’ve been nice.”

  “What’s the problem? You’re agitated because your neighbor studies a lot?”

  I slice a hand through the air. “A guy should have some warning. That’s all I’m saying.”

  He cocks his head. “She shot you down, huh?”

  “No. We’re friends.”

  He grins. “Right. Because you have so many women friends.”

  “Fuck you. I could have a woman friend if I wanted to.”

  He hides a smile behind his beer and takes a sip. “Glad to hear you’re evolving.”

  I jab a finger at him. “Ya know, if you weren’t cooking enchiladas, I’d be outta here.”

  He walks to the stool adjacent to mine, pulls it out, and takes a seat. “Tell me about the redhead.”

  “She’s blond now.”

  “Strike one.”

  “No, it’s…fine.” Angelic. I frown as another problem comes to mind. “Her bedroom shares a wall with mine.”

  “And?”

  “So I’m gonna hafta hear her with random guys!”

  “And that’s a problem because…”

  I glare at him.

  “Hmm…friends don’t let friends hook up with other guys?”

  I sock his shoulder. “Shut up.”

  “Okay, you have permission to take my bedroom until I’m back, which Sean and Josie say will be around mid-July. Problem solved.”

  “It’s not just that.”

  “Then what, Romeo?”

  I open my mouth and shut it again, at a loss for words. I don’t know if I’m coming or going where she’s concerned. I just know that I’m spending way too much time thinking about her.

  “Bren.”

  I turn to him. “What?”

  “Just ask her out already.”

  “It’s complicated.” I take a long swallow of cold beer. I need to keep Chloe at a distance. There’s too much potential fallout. But how can I when she’s so close?

  He stares at me for a moment, and I work on my poker face. Finally, he says, “You hooked up with her, didn’t you? Back in Villroy.” He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “I see what’s going on here. You’ve got a girl you thought you said goodbye to forever living next door, so now it’s awkward. You don’t want her to get too close because she’ll get the wrong idea and think there’s something more.”

  “Nothing happened in Villroy. I told ya we’re just friends.”

  He takes a pull on his beer. “Then you won’t mind if I stop by and ask her out, would ya?”

  “No!”

  He grins and leans forward. “Gotcha.”

  I scowl. “Not funny.”

  He chuckles. “Kinda is.”

  And he doesn’t say another word about it. He doesn’t have to. He knows and I know that I’m hung up on Chloe. She’s the first woman I ever really listened to and enjoyed talking with. I have this strange urge to make her happy just to s
ee her smile. It’s a stronger urge than even my lusty impulses, which is not how I usually operate. The fact is, I care enough about her I’m not going to get in her way. She needs to focus on her studies. She’s going to do great things with her life. I’d just be a distraction.

  And isn’t that the most important reason to keep my distance? Beyond the family connection fallout, her ex, and the almost certain fact that I’d screw up a relationship—I’m never going to do anything as great as she is with her life. She’s made it clear that she has a long, hard journey ahead of her with no space for a relationship. It’s why she turned down her ex’s proposal. Chloe is on a quest. And my job is to step aside, keeping the path clear for her to continue on her heroic journey.

  The only logical solution to her neighborly temptation is for me to go out as much as possible. Just never be home. I’m tired just thinking about it, but it’s the right thing to do.

  Chloe

  It’s Friday night, and I’m trying to relax after an exhausting first week at my internship. Of course I’m grateful just to be part of any research at such a cutting-edge facility. On the other hand, the lead researcher, Dr. Ruhan, doesn’t know me well and started me on the most mind-numbingly rote work. I know you have to start at the bottom, every person on the team has an important role, blah, blah, blah. But I was doing more advanced work in high school. On Monday, I hope to get a moment to remind her of my research credentials. I’ve already been published as co-author with professors in two medical journals.

  I set my empty bowl of ramen on the coffee table and flip channels restlessly. Giving up, I turn off the TV. I hear footsteps going down the hallway and my ears perk up. Is it Brendan? He doesn’t seem to be home much. I’m here every night after work, and I never hear anything from next door. I think he goes out every night. Not like it’s my business.

  I’ll read. There’s plenty of research coming out of the cancer center where I’m working that I haven’t read yet. I get my laptop, a glass of water, and curl up on the sofa for a deep dive into science. Three articles later, I’m actually tenser than I was when I got home. Maybe some music would help? Or I could get Blaze to take the edge off with a nice solid orgasm. Now there’s a plan.

  I head to the bedroom, lock the door, even though it’s just me here, strip out of my jeans and panties, and climb in bed. I’m feeling more relaxed already. I pull Blaze out of the nightstand and let him work his magic. Ahhh, yeah, that is good. I close my eyes, pleasure spiraling through me. Sky blue eyes gleam in my mind and my eyes fly open in alarm. Brendan can’t be part of the fantasy anymore. He’s right next door! I’m trying to forget he exists! Who else do I got? I search my mental inventory and settle on that swaggering guy from The Fast and the Furious.

  Ahhh…so much better. I close my eyes again, settling into the mattress. A sexy smile with a dimple flashes through my mind. Next! Manly form leaning against my doorframe, arms crossed, bulging biceps. Okay, okay. Let’s face facts. I haven’t been with a guy in a while. That’s the only reason my mind keeps going back to Brendan, the last guy I spent time with. I don’t need a guy. That’s why I have Blaze.

  I’ll just keep my eyes open and focus on Blaze. A wonderful invention for the independent woman. Back to business. Serious stuff. I stare at the ceiling, refusing to think of him, waiting for the pleasure to return. At this rate, I’m going to run out of battery power. Oh. Okay. Getting there.

  Yes. Yes. Yes. Faster, faster. I need to outrun memories. More power, Blaze!

  I cry out harshly as my release slams into me. I pant as I ease back to reality, slowing down the vibrating power and finally turning it off.

  A sharp knock on the front door startles me. I uncouple from my trusty boyfriend, leap out of bed, and quickly dress. My panties are damp, but what can you do. Hopefully I don’t look like I just got off.

  Another knock.

  It has to be a neighbor. Is it him?

  What am I doing? I can’t answer the door post-orgasm if it’s him. I’ll say I had headphones on and didn’t hear the knock. Curiosity gets the better of me. I tiptoe over and peek through the peephole.

  Brendan.

  I scramble back, my bare ankle slamming into the hard edge of the wood coffee table leg. I yelp in pain and nearly lose my balance but manage to right myself.

  “Chloe, are you okay?” he calls through the door. He sounds concerned.

  I cringe. Now I have to answer the door.

  “Yes,” I call out. “Just a minute.”

  I smooth my hair, take a deep breath, and open the door. “Hey, what’s up?”

  Brendan immediately looks over my shoulder. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I nicked my ankle on the coffee table.” I lift my ankle behind me, glance back, and quickly drop it. There’s a thin line of blood from the scrape. Somehow those surface cuts hurt like hell. All those nerve endings protesting, I guess.

  He peers around my shoulder. “Mind if I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  He steps inside, his dark brown hair damp from the shower. He smells like soap and that woodsy scent that nearly makes my eyes roll back in my head. Snug white T-shirt, faded jeans, sneakers. Is he trying to tempt me? Because I’m into the multi-orgasm night. Wrong. So wrong.

  He walks over to the kitchen and peers down the short hallway toward my bedroom. Shit. Did he hear me in there? Is he looking for the guy? Just a solo endeavor! That’s not any better, is it?

  Play it cool. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s just curious how my apartment is laid out compared to his.

  “Need something?” I ask casually.

  He stills and then glances around my kitchen, gesturing toward my refrigerator. “Just wondering if you had the same ancient refrigerator as I do. I planned to mention an upgrade to the landlord.” He plants his hands on his hips and stares at my refrigerator.

  I shift uneasily. “So, okay. An upgrade would be nice.”

  He slowly turns to me. “Yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “So…” He ambles out of the kitchen, his brows drawn together.

  I watch, expecting him to amble out the door, but he stops suddenly and turns to me. A smile tugs at his lips. “Were you, uh, working out? Your cheeks and neck are bright pink.”

  “Yes! I like to work out after work. Ha. Two works. I’m a hard worker. That’s how I bumped my ankle.” I congratulate myself on this completely reasonable explanation. I’m so playing it cool.

  “You sure you’re okay?” He closes the distance and puts the back of his hand on my forehead, his brows shooting up over twinkling blue eyes. “Chloe, you’re burning up.”

  There’s no hope for it. It’s post-orgasm heat, raw lust, and embarrassment, a killer combo. Still, I double down on denial. “Just exertion. I was dancing.”

  He cocks his head. “There’s no music, and that night at the bar in Villroy you said you didn’t dance.”

  Great! Bring up that night. Could we pile on any more embarrassment to this moment?

  I wave a hand airily, trying to come up with something believable. “It was interpretive dance. You don’t need music. It’s not officially recognized as a legitimate dance form by the established dance, uh, culture. So, according to those more expert than I, I was technically not dancing.”

  He crosses his arms, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. “Uh-huh. What were you really doing?”

  I attempt an interpretive dance move—pumping my fists forward and then straight up a few times. “It’s a weekend victory dance. My roommate and I used to do this to celebrate every Friday night.”

  His lips curve into a sexy smile. “I’ve got to meet this roommate.”

  “She’s back in Texas for the summer. Just me. So what’s new?” I’m nearly bouncing on the balls of my feet. I’m pumped from my recent exertion and the fact that he’s here, smiling his sexy smile at me. Not that I’m going to pounce on him or anything. Been there, got the awkward memory to live down forever.

  He steps closer, and
my pulse kicks up. “What’re ya doing tomorrow night, party girl?”

  “I don’t know. What’re we doing?”

  He flashes a smile that makes my breath catch. “We’re going to attempt to cook homemade tortellini. Beast made it before. It’s the best I’ve ever had, and since neither of us is great at cooking, I thought it could be something we figured out together.”

  We talked about our lack of cooking skill back in Villroy. We talked about a lot of things that night at the bar. Why did I have to ruin it by kissing him? This is my second chance for a real friendship, and I can’t blow it. I don’t have a lot of close friends, just Sara and my roommate, Lindsey.

  I smile. “Sure. Text me to let me know what time.” I give him my number, and he texts me back so I’ll have his.

  He glances at my kitchen. “Your kitchen isn’t as big as mine. We’ll use mine. I’ll pick up the ingredients. It takes a while to make the dough, roll it out, all that. You okay with a few hours’ time commitment? I know you’ve got a lot to cram into that genius head of yours—”

  “I can do it.”

  He smiles warmly, setting off a flutter low in my belly. “Cool.”

  We stand there staring at each other for a long moment. There’s something hypnotizing about his eyes as they change from warm to heated to smoldering. Wait, what? My mouth goes dry. Is this not one-sided?

  He blinks, gesturing toward the door and easing back a step. “See ya tomorrow.”

  “We could watch a movie or something if you want to hang out.”

  “I’m going out, but thanks.”

  I rub the side of my neck. “Oh. Sure. Have fun.” I don’t expect an invitation to join him. He’s probably cruising for women at a bar. Not my business.

  He walks to the door and stops with his hand on the knob. “Did you know our bedrooms share a wall?”

  “No,” I say slowly as the undeniable truth dawns. Oh God.