Boys Next Door: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Boys Next Door, Book 1)

by Mia Belle

  “I know. They’ve always been my best friends, but I feel like we’re closer now.” I force a laugh. “I guess one good thing came out of all this.”

  She rests her hand on my arm, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to.

  I gather the last batch of waffles and place them on the table. The others should be getting their lazy asses out of bed soon.

  I grab my jacket from the closet. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks for doing this Caleb,” Julia says. “Oh, don’t forget the list.”

  I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to thank me. I want to do this. Not only because I feel like I owe them, but because I need to get out of the house. To just…go. Doesn’t matter where.

  I pull the shopping list off the fridge, say bye to my aunt, and exit the house.

  I’m always careful to check around to make sure I’m not being watched or followed. This tiny town is the last place he’d look for me, but I can never really know. I’m sure he has his ways.

  As I pass the Kelly house, I notice Lia sitting on the porch, deep in thought. “Hey,” I call.

  Her head lifts. “Hi. Good morning.”

  My feet take me over there and I drop down next to her. “Kind of early to be up, isn’t it?”

  She shrugs. “I can say the same to you.”

  “I always wake up at this time.”

  Curiosity gathers in her eyes, but she doesn’t press me for details. “I couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning drives me insane, so I figured I’d come sit here. It’s oddly peaceful.”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  There’s a soft breeze blowing through my long hair, and it also pushes Lia’s brown curls in her face. I catch one, twirl it around my finger, then drop it the second I realize what I’ve done. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It’s just that you seem a little uncomfortable with my being so close to you.”

  She looks at me, then away. Her eyes are so green and so beautiful. I haven’t noticed it before. Sure I noticed that she’s very pretty, but there’s something about her eyes that draws me in. That urges me to be closer to her. Is that what Aidan was talking about? Why he feels like he can trust her?

  “What?” she asks, her hands shooting to her hair that’s still being tossed all over the place due to the wind. My hand itches to grab a strand again, but I fist it at my sides.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  She averts her gaze. “You’re right that I’m a little uncomfortable with you being so close. But I don’t want to be.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I get to my feet. “No worries. I understand.”

  I’m about to take off, when she says. “Where are you going?”

  “Shopping. Do you want to come with? Unless you’re busy.”

  She laughs lightly. “So busy. I have a date with Gregory Higgins.”

  I lift a brow.

  She laughs again, playfully rolling her eyes. “He’s a character in the book I’m reading.”

  I join in her laughter. “You had me worried there for a second…I mean, that sounds like fun.” I press my lip shut, not understanding why the thought of her with another guy doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t even know her. I want to, though.

  I should be careful whom I befriend, but I feel like that doesn’t apply to Lia.

  “So do you want to come shopping with me? Maybe I can teach you to cook something for you and your dad.”

  She considers it for several seconds. “That sounds great, but I doubt I’ll be a good student.”

  “You’ll be great.” I’m about to tell her my dad taught me everything I know, but I stop myself. The last time we talked about my dad in history class, I fled. I don’t want to run away from her now.

  She stands and we make our way toward the supermarket. We don’t say anything to one another, each of us busy with our thoughts. Despite telling myself not to, I let my mind wander to a time when things were good. When I had a mother and a father. When I thought my life was perfect. I had dreams of being an amazing magician like my dad. I wanted my mother to be proud of me. But she died before she got the chance, and I’ve given up on my dream.

  I’ve been lost since the day my dad was arrested, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to find myself again.

  “Caleb?”

  I raise my head. Lia and I have reached the supermarket and she’s clutching a cart. My aunt was right. The place is starting to get packed.

  “Are you okay?” she asks as we enter. “You looked like you were thinking about something intense.”

  I want to wave my hand and tell her I’m fine, but it’s like my limbs are frozen in place. And that’s not due to the cold. It happens every time I think about my asshole of a father.

  “I was thinking about something intense,” I say. “But I wish I hadn’t.”

  Her eyebrows furrow, mouth opens to respond, but I cut her off. “This place is huge. Too huge for such a tiny town.” I’ve been here a few times, but it’s the only thing I can come up with that will distract me from thinking about him.

  Lia seems to understand that I want to drop the subject, and I realize there’s more to her than just my next door neighbor. She’s been through things, things she wishes to keep hidden.

  Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lia

  Caleb and I spend quite a while in the supermarket. People push and shove like there are diamonds in here. Caleb and I laugh every time someone rolls our cart out of the way. It should piss me off, but it doesn’t. Maybe because I’m about to do something positive for me and my dad. Caleb plans to teach me to cook. And I want to learn more about him. From all the guys, he seems most affected by whatever they’re hiding. The boys did mention that they need to protect him. He still glances around as though waiting for someone to pounce, but it’s not as often as it was an hour ago when we just arrived.

  “My aunt warned me it would be this bad,” he says, plucking two chickens off the shelf and placing them in our cart. One for him and one for me. “But it’s cool. I want to do whatever I can to help them.” He looks at me, then away. “They’re in this mess because of me…and it’s like…” He shakes his head. “Sorry. Never mind. You like mushrooms? Does your dad?”

  “My dad does. I guess I’m okay with them.”

  He adds them to the cart, then pushes it along the aisle, tapping his chin. “What else?”

  “Are you thinking about a specific recipe?” I ask. “You want me to look up the ingredients online?”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t need to. I never follow recipes. Everything is up here.” He points to his head.

  “Really? That’s amazing.”

  His cheeks flush slightly. “Not really. People would call me a little crazy for being so obsessed with food.”

  “You want to be a professional chef?”

  He drops some spices into the cart and wheels it along. “I don’t know. I prefer to bake, and I talked to my aunt about starting a baking business. She wasn’t sure about it.”

  “Why?”

  He hesitates, his eyes flicking to me, then away. “She’s worried I’m doing it for the wrong reasons.”

  I lift both eyebrows. “Wrong reasons?”

  “Yeah.” He sighs. “Julia’s having a hard time finding a job and I want to help out. They don’t want me getting a job because they want me to focus on school. But I want to help out, you know?”

  “I’m sorry Julia can’t find a job. That’s probably so hard for her.”

  He nods, his lips pressed in a tight line. “Especially because she had a great job back in New York.” He grabs a few more items and dumps them into the cart. “I think we have everything we need.” He scans his shopping list, then chuckles. “Seriously? Zane and his pickles.”

  “What?”

  He
laughs again. “Do you know he sometimes eats them for breakfast? Breakfast.”

  I think back to the morning when I spotted him sitting on his bed with his blanket wrapped around him. He was bothered by something.

  “Yeah, he ate one when I took you guys on a tour around town,” I say, forcing myself not to think about the other things we encountered on our tour—of the football-player-private-school-student variety.

  “Right. Thanks, by the way. For taking us.”

  “Don’t mention it.” I’m a little guilty that my dad had to practically force me. The truth is, these boys aren’t so bad.

  You’re lowering your guard, the voice in my head warns me. And you know what happens when you lower your guard.

  Yeah, I get hurt. But I don’t feel like the Armstrong boys would ever harm me. I still don’t know them well, but I’m starting to, and from what I can tell so far, they’re kind of cool.

  “Hey,” Caleb says, handing me a book with a couple kissing on the cover. “Seems like something you might like.”

  “Who says I like romance?”

  “You said you had a date with Gregory Higgins.”

  I shake my head, placing it on the shelf. “He’s from a sci-fi novel. I used to like romance, but I’m not really into it right now.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug, not interested in revealing too much of my past. I want it to stay locked in my memories forever, to never think about it again.

  “Okay.” He scans the shelf. “What are you into, then?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “I thought we could read a book together and discuss it. I’m going to share my love of cooking with you, so I figured you can show me something you love.”

  “Oh. I thought you wanted to buy it for me or something.”

  “Would that be a bad thing?”

  “Yes.”

  His mouth opens and closes, eyebrows scrunch together. “Why?”

  Because that was what Josh did. Treated me like crap and then bought me something nice to make up for it. And I was so stupid to fall for it.

  “Just don’t buy me anything.”

  He flinches. Damn. I didn’t mean to snap at him like that. First I snapped at his cousin during the football game and now him? “I didn’t mean that,” I say. “Sorry. I’m just…” I tug on a curl. “I’m just a little screwed up because of…” I press my mouth shut.

  He waits for me to continue, but once he realizes I don’t plan to, he says, “Fair enough. But for the record, I don’t think you’re screwed up.”

  “You hardly know me.”

  “That’s true, but still.” He scans the cart. “I think we’re done.”

  We pay for our food and carry the stuff home. It’s a little challenging because we have so many bags, but we manage. Caleb is stronger than I thought. This close to him, I notice his muscles. They’re not as big as Zane or Aidan’s, but they seem to do their job of carrying the bulk of our load.

  In front of our houses, he sorts through everything. “I’ll quickly put my stuff in the fridge, then hop over. Do you need help with your stuff?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  Zane strolls out of his house, and as soon as he sees me with all my bags, he hurries over.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him. “It’s just a few bags.”

  I have a bag in each hand, and he stops me from reaching for a third one. “I know you can. But like Julia always says, why should you when you’ve got someone else to do it for you? Come on, Amelia. Let me help.”

  I don’t have a chance to argue before he gathers all my stuff and effortlessly carries them inside. Julia helps Caleb, waving to me. I wave back, then join Zane in the kitchen. Dad’s there, too, staring at the bags like they’ve come from another planet.

  “What’s all this?” he asks.

  “Food,” I say. “Caleb’s going to help me make lunch.”

  Dad blinks at me. “That sounds great, but I wouldn’t want to impose on him—”

  “You’re not imposing,” Zane says as he pulls bananas out of a bag. “Believe me, the guy lives for cooking. You’d be doing him a favor.” He frowns. “No pickles?”

  “At your place,” I say.

  He frowns again. “So I have to go all the way over there to get my pickle?”

  Dad regards him. “I heard you were having some problems in class. One of your teachers told me he caught you drawing instead of writing your essay.”

  “So?”

  “Zane.”

  He holds up his hands. “Come on, man. You’re not my principal now. You’re my next door neighbor. Save the lectures for my parents.”

  “I already did. They plan to discuss it with you.”

  He groans. “It’s not my fault all I want to do is draw.”

  Dad pats his back. “You’ll talk it over with your parents.”

  “Fine. I guess I’ll see you later, Lia. Have fun cooking with Caleb.” He gives me that lazy smile and saunters out of the kitchen.

  Dad resumes staring at all the food, his jaw nearly reaching the floor. “Sweetie, are you sure you want to do this? I know I haven’t been making an effort to learn to cook...”

  “It’s okay, Dad. Maybe one day I can make the things Mom did. Our favorites.”

  His smile is small. He kisses the top of my head. “That sounds great.”

  There’s a knock on the door and Dad answers it, returning a few seconds later with Caleb. Dad thanks him before leaving to his room.

  Sometimes I forget how lonely he must feel. Especially on the weekends. He and my mother used to watch movies together. They would go out, spend time together. I’ve been so focused on my own pain that I haven’t really thought about it. I want to be better to him, but it’s hard. Maybe I can start by cooking us a decent meal.

  I turn to Caleb. “Where do we start?”

  “First, we need aprons.”

  I rummage around. “I know my mom stashed them somewhere.” I locate a pile in one of the cabinets. Most are girly, since my mother loved pink.

  One’s a unicorn that she bought for me, but I never really had a chance to cook with her.

  “Uh…they’re pink,” I say.

  Smiling, he takes the top one. It’s solid pink with a heart in the front. “No worries.” He ties it around his waist.

  I put on the unicorn one and we begin. The dish is chicken with mushrooms. From the way he describes it, it sounds delicious.

  “What about making lunch for your family?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about it. We usually have pizza on Sundays. Then I make dinner.”

  It takes over an hour to make the food. I’m surprised how patient Caleb is with me. When I add too much salt, he fixes it with no problem. When I peel the vegetables wrong, he patiently waits for me to correct it. He’s letting me take control, though he’s mostly in charge.

  When everything is cooking, Dad peeks his head in. “That smells good.”

  Caleb gestures to me. “It’s all Lia. She’s a great student.”

  “I had a great teacher.”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. You already had it in you, you just needed some guidance.” He smiles at me. “You’re very talented, Lia.”

  Dad has a sad yet proud expression in his eyes. “Just like your mother.”

  It warms my heart to hear him say that. Ever since she died, I’ve been trying to be more like her, but it seems like I’ve been doing the opposite. “Thanks, Dad, but I’m nowhere as good as Mom. Or Caleb.” I turn to him. “You’ll be a great chef one day.”

  His face glows bright red. “Thanks. Leave the chicken in the oven for another fifteen minutes and it should be done. I’d better get home before everyone steals all the pizza.”

  “Caleb.” Dad stops him at the door. “Why don’t you ask your family to join us? You guys made enough to feed ten families.”

  I freeze. “Are you sure? It might not even be good….”

  “Of course
it is, Lia,” Caleb says. “But if you’re not comfortable with us eating it, that’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was just so excited to see you in the kitchen like that with your mom’s favorite…” He swallows as he looks at my apron. “Maybe another time.”

  “Actually, maybe we should,” I say. “Yeah, let’s do it.” The Armstrongs invited us, so it’s only fair we return the favor. Caleb and I made a ton, and it’d be a shame for all that to go to waste.

  A smile breaks out on Caleb’s face. “Okay, I’ll text them to come over.”

  ***

  Less than five minutes pass before our neighbors stand in the kitchen. Craig, Julia, Caleb, and Zane. Aidan’s not here, and when Dad questions his whereabouts, Julia tells us he went out.

  “Should we wait for him?” Dad says.

  Zane peers at his phone. “Nah. He said he’ll grab something to eat.”

  I wonder where he is. Maybe Alexis and Sophie managed to convince him to hang out with them. Alexis isn’t one to quit easily. When she wants something, she’ll do whatever she can to get it.

  The thought of Aidan with them tugs at me, but I shove that aside. We gather in the dining room. Zane sits across from me, Caleb on his left. Dad’s at his usual seat at the head of the table, and Julia and Craig are next to him.

  As we eat, I glance up when I feel eyes on mine, expecting to find they belong to Zane. But it’s not Zane who’s watching me. It’s Caleb. Zane’s shoving food into his mouth like he’s on autopilot. His thoughts don’t seem to be in this room.

  When my eyes meet Caleb’s, he gives me a shy but wide smile. The food turned out better than I thought it would, and everyone compliments how delicious it is. Caleb gives me all the credit, but I wave him off. There’s no way this food would be even half decent if not for him.

  I had a lot of fun with him. Whatever is usually bothering him left the table, and I saw a side to him I’ve never seen before. A fun side. Even now as we move onto the next dish, his problems seem to have vanished.

  When he sends me another smile, I return it, feeling my cheeks warm up. His are a little red, too.