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

by Mia Belle

  The conversation around the table mostly revolves around football, since that’s the number one obsession in this town. We also talk about some other news going around.

  My gaze moves to Zane as we’re finishing up. He devoured all his food, but I don’t think he enjoyed it one bit. He keeps staring at his phone as if he’s scared something will surge out of it and consume him.

  “Thanks for the meal,” Julia says as Dad and I walk the Armstrongs to the door. She pulls me into her arms, squeezing me tight. “Have a good night.”

  The others bid us goodbye and I watch them walk to their house. Zane lags behind, hands in his pockets, while Caleb talks with his aunt and uncle.

  What’s up with Zane? He was completely different only an hour ago.

  I shut the door and enter the kitchen, where Dad’s cleaning up. “I’ll take care of it,” I tell him.

  “That’s okay.” He gives me a pained smile. “Mom would be very proud of you.”

  I tuck some curls behind my hair, crossing my arms over my chest at the sudden cold. “I wish I would have spent more time with her.” I was always off hanging out with Sophie or doing my own thing.

  He rests his hand on my arm. “Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Aidan

  The weekends have become very difficult for me. School is one thing—I’ve got enough to keep my mind occupied. But the weekends drive me insane. It’s a time where you hang out with friends, have fun, goof off. But I haven’t done any of that since we moved here. Unless you count the party. Man, that was very stupid of me to get drunk like that, and I’m being careful not to do it again. But it’s hard not to go to parties.

  When Alexis asked me yesterday, a part of me wanted to say yes. I wanted to do anything and go anywhere just so I would forget the life I used to have, before my injury. But the guys and I decided on a movie, and I wasn’t about to bail on them. Now I’m glad I went with them. Because Lia joined us.

  I leave the house Sunday afternoon and go for a walk. Not sure exactly where I’m headed because I don’t know the town well, but I’ve got time for that. Seems like we’ll be here for a while. Mom and Dad reassured us that it won’t be long before Caleb’s dad is caught, but I’m not so sure. My uncle’s good at hiding. Always has been.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking until I hear voices in the distance. They’re coming from the large park. Probably friends playing ball. I don’t want to think about how many times my friends and I played in the park. Seems like ages ago.

  I’m about to turn away and continue on to wherever, when something catches my attention. Four guys my age are throwing something around, and as I approach them, I realize it’s a football.

  I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s been over a year since I touched a football. Refused to all this time because it hurt too much.

  My feet force me toward the gate surrounding the park. I don’t stop until my face presses to the metal. It’s a little cold due to the October weather. Feels pretty good on my forehead.

  The guys slam into one another as they fight for the ball. Then they argue that they’re going to lose their next game against Gadberry High unless they perfect their play.

  I’m transported back to when my friends and I did the same thing. These guys, though, aren’t as good as I was. Not to sound like an ass, but there are some areas they can improve on.

  Damn it, Aidan, my brain scolds. You’ve put football behind you, haven’t you?

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I told Lia I’m trying to get over it, but it’s a complete lie. How could I devote my entire life to something, just to have it snatched away like it meant nothing?

  “Hey you,” a voice calls.

  Opening my eyes, I find the four guys staring at me. One stands right before me, eyes narrowed into slits. Each guy is buffer than the next, but their muscles are no match to how mine used to be. Even Zane’s pretty ripped. Not as much as I was, though. Unlike me, he doesn’t need it for football. He works out to deal with his shit.

  The guy, a brown-haired dude who must be the leader, steps closer to me. I don’t think any of them go to my school, but I don’t really know everyone.

  “Why are you standing there like that?” the brown-haired guy demands. He looks me from top to bottom. Must not like what he sees because his nose crinkles. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

  “I moved here about two weeks ago.”

  He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to do something. His friends standing behind him gaze at me the same way. I’m pretty sure they expect me to leave.

  “I thought parks are public,” I say.

  His eyes narrow again. “Maybe, but I don’t like people watching. Creeps me the fuck out.” He tilts his head to the left. “So why don’t you go back to wherever the hell you came from?”

  I’m about to leave, then face him again. “I’ll go, but if you keep throwing the ball like that, you’ll never win that game.”

  “What?”

  I nod toward the football in one of the guy’s hands and inform them of a trick my coach taught my team last year. We were up against our biggest competition, a team we never beat before. But after learning this new skill, we won. It’s the same with these guys.

  The brown-haired guy glances back at his friends, then at me. “All right,” he says, voice hard but not as hostile as before. “Show us, smart ass.”

  I head to the entrance of the park and meet the guys, who are whispering to one another. One guy, a black-haired one, squints at me.

  “I know you,” he says. “Seen you before.”

  My heart rate accelerates. No one can know me. That’s why my family moved to this tiny town. “Nah,” I say.

  He continues staring at me, brown eyes determined to figure me out. The others’ heads dance from me to him.

  “Come on, Blaze,” the leader groans. “Drop this shit so we could see what this guy’s made of.” He turns to me. “How do you know so much about football, anyway?”

  “Because he’s a famous high school football star from NYC!” Blaze says. “I knew I saw you before. In a newspaper or online or whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “My dad wanted me to watch YouTube videos of your games, but I never did.”

  “His dad’s our coach,” Brown Hair explains. He scans me from top to bottom again, probably taking in my skinny arms and chest. “If you’re this big football star from New York City, what the hell happened to you?”

  The others blink at me curiously. I run my hand through my hair. “Football injury. Haven’t played in a year.”

  “Rough,” Blaze says.

  “Yeah, too bad,” the leader agrees. He motions around. “You talk a big game, now put money where your mouth is.”

  I know I shouldn’t go anywhere near a football. I promised my parents I’d never put myself in danger again. The doctors warned me that another hit to my head could have terrible effects.

  But I’ll be careful. It’s not like I’m playing, anyway, just showing these guys some pointers. I might not play football anymore, but I feel a connection to these guys, something I haven’t felt in a while.

  I spend a few minutes teaching them everything I know. They watch, captivated, as I throw the ball. Damn, I miss this.

  “Dude,” Brown Hair says as he claps me on the back. I’m bent over, panting. Man, being out of shape sucks. That’s what I get for stuffing my face as I watch TV instead of hitting the gym.

  “That was awesome,” Blaze says. “We need to show this to my dad. We’ll totally smoke Gadberry’s asses.”

  Brown Hair nods. “In a sec.” He grins at me. “You’re all right, man.” He gestures to the guys. “This is Blaze, Charlie, Emmet, and I’m Burke.”

  “Aidan.”

  He taps his chin as he studies me. “So you’re from New York. Why would you move to this shithole?”

  I shrug.

  “You go to Willow Lake High?” Charlie asks.

  “Yeah. You?�
��

  Burke twists his mouth like he swallowed a lemon. “We go to Willow Lake Academy. It’s a private school.”

  That would definitely explain why I’ve never seen them. I’m pretty sure I would notice these four football players strutting down the school hallway.

  Burke shoves his phone in my face. “Put your number in there and let’s go throw that ball around some more.”

  At that second, I receive a text from Zane telling me he and the family have gone over to Lia’s house for lunch. He’s asking where I am and if I’m coming.

  They’ve gone to eat by Lia?

  “What’s up?” Burke says, still holding his phone in my face. “You gonna give me your number or what?”

  I slide my phone in my pocket and tap my number into his phone. Then we continue playing football, and I feel like I finally belong somewhere.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Zane

  I stare at my phone as I make my way up the stairs to my room. Lunch with Lia and her dad was nice, I guess. Not that I remember what we ate, talked about, or how she looked. I’m pretty sure she glanced at me every so often, but I can’t be sure. Honestly, I don’t want to think about it right now.

  He texted me again this morning. Damn it.

  You there? I said we need to talk.

  Normally when he says we need to talk, he needs money. Or a place to crash. Or drugs. Or whatever. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in three years, and couldn’t care less. I’ve moved on with my life. He needs to understand that.

  Still, a part of me can’t just let him go. He’s blood, after all. That’s why when I reach my room, I slam my fist into the wall. Twice. If he’s in trouble, is it my duty to help him? Just like he helped me all those years ago?

  And abandoned me. I can’t forget how he left me to rot. But he was young. We were both young.

  “Hey,” a voice says.

  Looking up, I find Lia bending out of her window. She waves at me, and I note the small smile on her face. On any other day I’d be overjoyed that she’s smiling, but not today. Today, I want to be left alone. Why the fuck don’t I have blinds in my room?

  I stalk to the hall closet and heave the box out. Then I grab some tools and return to my room. Lia watches me with her eyebrows furrowed.

  “What’s that?” she asks.

  I pull the blinds out of the box and get to work. I feel Lia watching as I screw in everything that needs to be screwed. It doesn’t take long before it’s all done. I lower the shade, then drop to the floor, grabbing at my hair. Shit. Why did he have to contact me? I thought ignoring him would make him disappear, but who am I kidding?

  “Zane?” she asks, her voice hesitant and confused. “What’s going on?”

  I get to my feet and lift the blinds. She’s standing exactly where she was five minutes ago. I point to the blinds. “Know what this is?”

  She doesn’t say anything, her eyes filled with confusion and a little pain. We just stand there staring at one another until she finally says, “I thought you didn’t want blinds.”

  “Yeah, well some people don’t want their neighbors spying.” As soon as the words are out, I want to take them back. Shit. There I go being an asshole again. I open my mouth to apologize, but the words are stuck in my throat.

  Lia slowly backs away from the window. “Okay.” There’s some hardness in her voice. Anger as well as dejection. “Fine. Whatever.” She lowers her blinds and vanishes from the window.

  “Lia,” I whisper, my mouth dry. I want to call her name, but once again, the words are trapped in my throat. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s best she keep her distance from me. I don’t want to drag her into the shit that is my life.

  I lower myself to the floor and bang my head against the wall, forcing myself not to think about what a jerk I am. I’m not interested in doing anything. Not drawing. Or working out. Sitting here and doing nothing is exactly what I need.

  I’m not sure how long I sit here. I hear Mom, Dad, and Caleb talking downstairs. Aidan still hasn’t come home yet. I have no idea where he is, and honestly, I don’t really care right now. He’s been acting like a baby ever since he lost football and his friends. I get it. Those things are important, but right now, I can’t help feeling anger toward him. He has a good life. He’s got two parents who love the shit out of him. He’s got so many good things going for him. Not like me.

  “Open your window,” Lia calls.

  I don’t move. It’s like my body’s too weak from all these childhood memories assaulting my mind.

  “Zane.” Her voice is anything but sweet and kind. “I said open your window. I want to give you something.”

  Heaving myself off the floor, I yank the blinds up. Lia glares at me for what feels like minutes but are only seconds. Then she lifts her hand and chucks something at me. It smacks me in the face before splatting to the floor. A crumpled piece of paper.

  I sweep it off the floor and unfold it. Lia’s smiling face stares at me. The drawing I made.

  When I lift my eyes to her room, I find her blinds pulled down.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lia

  I don’t care.

  I don’t care.

  I don’t care.

  I tug the slats of my blinds apart and peek into Zane’s room. His is lifted, and I see him sitting on the floor, staring in the distance.

  Didn’t he say less than ten minutes ago that he wanted privacy? Why are his blinds up? Jerk.

  I don’t know why I allowed myself to lower my guard. Why I felt like I could maybe start opening up. Well, screw that. How long will it take for my brain to finally comprehend that guys are jerks? All of them. Every last one.

  Sure they seem like they’re kind. They give you attention, even persuade you to crack a smile. And then when you feel like you’re building some sort of connection with them, they toss you away like last night’s garbage.

  I’ve had enough of them. Enough of him.

  I grab my book and get comfy on my bed. The only thing that truly makes me happy is my books. I don’t need anything else. I don’t want anything else.

  There’s a knock on my door and Dad’s head comes into view. “Sweetie? I’m going to run some errands. Do you need anything?”

  “No.”

  He’s quiet for a bit before asking, “Do you want to join me?”

  The last thing I want is to leave the house. I’m fine with lying on my bed and escaping into a fake world, where next door neighbors don’t make me feel like crap.

  “Maybe another time,” I say, then bite my lip. I hate refusing my dad like that, especially because our relationship can use some work. I just need to stay in the house right now.

  “Okay,” he says. “If you need anything, just call me.” His footsteps grow lighter as he walks away from my room.

  It’s completely quiet as I return to my book. Usually, I hear Dad in his room next door, or sometimes I hear some noise from the kitchen. I’ve never had a problem being home alone, but I do now for some reason.

  I force myself to shove my worries aside and focus on my book. But I can’t.

  Groaning, I toss the book aside and advance toward my window. Pushing the slats apart, I take another peek into his room. He’s still on the floor, deep in thought. He was the same way at dinner. Why? What happened? Something must be bothering him.

  Why do I care? He treated me like crap and doesn’t deserve for me to worry about him.

  As if he feels me watching him, his head lifts. “Hey,” he says.

  I drop my hand, shutting the slats. I must have pulled them too far apart. So much for being discreet.

  “Amelia?”

  He has no right to say my name. No right at all. Doesn’t he understand that it’s hard for me to let people—especially guys—in? I thought he of all people would get it.

  “Can we talk?” he asks.

  I don’t move.

  “Please?”

  Sucking in a deep breath and gradua
lly releasing it, I order my hand to pull up the shade. He’s standing at his window, eyes filled with guilt. There’s also darkness in there, a different one from what I’ve seen before.

  “What do you want?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  A hard swallow makes its way down his throat. He reaches for something and holds it out before him. The drawing of me.

  “I guess I deserved that,” he says, his voice low.

  I keep my arms crossed.

  He runs his hand through his black, shaggy hair. “Look, I’m a jerk.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  He holds my gaze for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “Okay.”

  He climbs onto the window with a drill and starts unscrewing something. It’s not long before the blinds are in his hands and his window is completely naked. He pitches the blinds onto the bed.

  I gape at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He shrugs. “Don’t want it.” He moves closer to the window and hangs most of his body out, like he’s trying to reach me.

  “Are you insane?” I cry. “You’ll fall!”

  That doesn’t seem to faze him one bit. “I was a jerk and I’m sorry.”

  I don t know what to say. I’m too busy freaking out that this guy might accidentally commit suicide. Why the hell is he putting himself at risk like that?

  “There’s something going on…” He presses his lips together, eyebrows drawn. He shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. But it’s got nothing to do with you. I was feeling like shit and wanted to shut everyone out.” He pauses, eyes holding mine. “But I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does.”

  I shrug again. “We’re just neighbors. It’s not like we’re friends or anything. And can you please pull yourself in before you splat to the ground?”

  He’s still staring at me, not moving. “I thought we were.”

  “Were what?”

  “Friends. I don’t go around drawing just anyone.”

  I throw my hands up. “You said the only reason you drew me was because you wanted to see me smile.”