by C. A. Harms
I have a better view of her lower half from this angle, but when she shifts to gather her glass, I get a glimpse of her fully. She is slender, petite, small perky breasts, not quite a handful but sexy and fit her body perfectly. She is proportioned just right, not fake at all like a lot of women nowadays. Something about her smile causes an ache inside me as I continue to watch her, still bringing no attention to myself.
The sound of a small child laughing just before her big-ass dog goes running through the yard pulls my attention from her.
“Whitney,” one of the other women hollers just before she stands up and moves in a hurry after the little girl with golden hair. “Stop chasing Bear before he tackles you again.”
I watch as she scoops up the small child and walks back toward the chairs to join the others once more.
“I thought you wanted to swim in your pool?” It’s then I notice the small blow-up pool a few feet away from the ladies.
“That is not what I had in mind when I said you needed a pool.” I watch as the third woman stands and sashays toward the kiddy pool. She too is petite, a little on the skinny side for my taste, but still attractive. I like a woman with some curve, not all boney. I want something to hold on to, something soft against me as I—
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts.
What the fuck?
“Whit, do you like Aunt Janelle’s pool?” My new neighbor stands tall and regains my complete and undivided attention. I take it back; she has a little more than a handful. Now that I have a clear view of her side profile, I give myself permission to imagine what she looks like without her barely there bathing suit. Feeling my jeans grow a little tighter, I push my palm against my growing erection in an attempt to tame my desire.
Janelle.
She gathers the little girl in her arms and steps into the pool before sinking down into the water. It is barely a foot deep, but she starts splashing the water, making the little girl laugh. Their laughter echoes all around me. I’m so caught up in it all that I haven’t noticed I’ve stepped out into clear view until it is too late.
Chapter Four
Janelle
“Don’t look now, but someone is enjoying the view.” Instantly, I ignore Jackie’s warning and swivel around with my eyes, searching the surrounding areas. Nine times out of ten when someone tells you not to look at something, your instinct is to look. At least mine is.
“Oh my hell, did you not hear? Don’t look.”
I freeze, seeing my unbelievably rude but very attractive neighbor standing at the back of his house, his gaze cast in our direction. An unreadable expression is on his face, no smile, yet no scowl, either.
“I’m sure he’s only coming outside to tell us that we need to keep it down.” I lower my gaze and continue splashing water at my niece, doing my best to hide my nervous energy and concentrating on her sweet giggles instead.
“Well, in that case…” I look up just in time to see Janie grab the dial to the radio and turn it up a few notches. The loud thump of the bass hits hard, and I see out of my peripheral vision the very second my neighbor steps closer to the fence. My heart rate soars and I want to laugh, but I also want to run inside and hide while my sisters suffer the wrath of the devil himself.
“You think you can turn that down?” The deep tone of his voice sends shivers through me for various reasons, most I would never admit had they been questioned.
When Janie lifts her hand to cup her ear, leaning toward him as if attempting to hear his words more clearly, I hang my head to hide the smirk I feel tugging at the corners of my mouth. My sister has no problem being a complete smartass; it doesn’t seem to matter the circumstances.
“Hello?” This time he sounds more irritated.
Janie starts banging her head to the beat, Jackie does an air guitar, and Whitney and I stare at the two of them like they’ve lost their damn minds. Suddenly Whitney stands up and follows the signals of her mother and immature aunt and starts to shake her little hips to the beat of the music.
I try, Lord knows I do, but that is the very second I lose my shit. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I lean over and hide my face, my body shaking with laughter. The women in my family maintain no control. I swear to it, we are ridiculous. But that whole desperate times calls for desperate measures thing, yep, that is us in a nutshell.
I should be trying to make peace, trying to ease the tension between this man and myself, but at this moment I don’t have it in me.
It doesn’t escape me that he is bare chested either, his arms crossed over the thickness of his muscles, the flexing shoulders, the veins on display throughout his forearms. It is all very noticeable, very very noticeable.
Why must all the good-looking men be assholes?
***
“Has Mr. Moody knocked the wind from your lungs yet?” I keep my thumb hovering over the end button, trying to decide if listening to Janie’s X-rated dream of me and my neighbor is worth the energy.
“As in, has he brought his sexy-as-sin self over to your place with the intention of really letting you have it and then proceeding to give it to you long, hard, and thorough?”
“How old are you again?” I swear to God my little sister is a teenage boy going through puberty on most days. She is vulgar, always talking about sex as if it’s all there is in life to talk about.
Okay fine, I do miss sex, and my little sister is most likely having enough for the both of us, but the idea of me and my neighbor is just laughable.
“Maybe you should go over there wearing nothing but a see-through nighty and offer up your body. Kind of a way for him to relieve some of that pent-up frustration. Let him use you and you can both get off in the process.”
“Hanging up now.”
“No,” she barks out with laughter. “Fine, I’ll stop.”
“Is there a purpose for this call?” I sit up in bed and stretch my arms above my head, arching my back. The pull of my muscles feels great. I’ve managed to empty more than half of my boxes, organizing as I go, and I’ve only been here for a few days. It feels nice to get settled. I hate feeling out of sorts.
“Mom and Jackie have decided that we’re having lunch on the back patio of Spencers’ today.” Our weekly lunch, all the Pearson women together, talking about our week. It’s kind of our thing. Mom leaves embarrassed on most occasions because the conversations always venture into unforeseen territory, but each week she insists on coming back for more. The poor woman will never learn. You would think she would choose to visit with us all separately; getting us together always backfires. It is amazing, though, being so close to my mother and my sisters. Our weekly meeting is something I look forward to, for all the laughs and fun they provide.
“I have a cut and color at ten, so I should be there by twelve-thirty at the latest.” Things at the salon are a little slow to kick off, but I know it’s because I have not yet earned my place. The regulars go to the same people, and I’m the new girl. Freshly out of school, I have to prove my talent. Today, Aunt Lottie has given me one of her customers with the promise that they are in good hands and it’s my chance to prove I know what I am doing.
I’m nervous but excited.
Ending the call with my sister, I take my time styling my own hair, not wanting to walk into the salon looking like a frumpy version of myself. I let my hair hang loose, using the curling iron to create long spiral curls that hang down my back. Gathering my bangs and a bit of the sides, I swoop them up and twist them before adding one of my favorite clips to hold it all in place. Pulling free a few strands around my face, I step back and feel satisfied with the outcome.
With a few swipes of lip gloss, I smack my lips together then swivel from side to side to ensure my outfit looks presentable.
I’ve gone with a spaghetti strap sundress, light blue with a dipping neckline. The hem hits just above my knees, and I match it with my strappy heeled sandals and silver hoops, bangles, and my favorite necklace to finish it off. I feel good, confident
, and ready to start my day.
I exit my house, smiling and eager. I hit the key fob, hearing the locks on my Wrangler click before I pull open the driver’s door. Pausing when I hear someone clear their throat, I feel my eagerness shift to unease. I don’t have to turn around to know that it is the tattooed ass of a man from next door.
“That was quite the show you put on yesterday.” Closing my eyes, I reach deep inside for the inner strength I need to face him. Suddenly I spin around with every intention of telling him to crawl back into the hole he climbed out of, but I find the words fail me the second I take him in.
Fitted jeans, the kind that hug his thick muscular thighs and other areas to perfection. I swallow hard, forcing my eyes to shift from the prominent bulge in the front of his pants and scan over the heather grey t-shirt that leaves very little to the imagination. How can a man this moody look this damn good? It’s unfair really to waste such looks and perfection on a man I only want to steer clear from.
“You get your fill yet?”
My glare connects with his deep brown eyes, and I swear I see a trace of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh, fine, neighbor with manners like no other, what is it that I can do for you today?” Instantly, I regret attempting for cute and sassy, realizing I sound foolish instead.
“For starters, you can respect that not everyone has a nine-to-five job.” He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back, only to bump against the side of my Jeep. “I’m pretty easy to get along with, really.”
I snicker before I have the chance to stop myself, and he arches his brow.
“What are you, twelve?”
“What are you, the world’s biggest asshole?”
We stand in my driveway staring at one another, sizing each other up like enemies, and I can feel myself faltering. I’m not a bitchy person by nature, I hate confrontation, but this guy brings out a side of me I rarely see.
“I work two jobs.” He states this slowly as if I need each syllable pronounced with great concentration in order to understand. I find it to be insulting, but he continues before I get a chance to call him out on it. “All I ask is that you stop acting like an adolescent teen and show a little decency and respect for those around you. This is a quiet neighborhood, always has been. I’ve lived here for more than three years, and it’s one of the things I enjoy most about the area. Everyone is respectful, or at least they were.”
I fight the urge to kick him in the shin or the dick; either one would give me great enjoyment.
“First off, as I said before, all you had to do was ask me instead of storming over like a raging bull and acting as if I knew you were sleeping and that my music was too loud. I have no intention of being the trouble-causing neighbor. Yet you continue to feel the need to be a complete ass, and forgive me for not feeling accommodating to your needs after you choose to continue on with your prickish nature.”
Prickish? Why do I turn into a fumbling idiot in his presence? It is really beginning to piss me off even more than this devil.
My hands are shaking, and I fist them to hide the reaction I have to this altercation. “Had you acted like an adult instead of a self-righteous asshole, then I’m sure things could have gone very differently.”
I push off my Jeep, and it’s his turn to step back to create some space between us. I reopen the door that shut when I backed into the side while trying to escape this man. I square my shoulders, climb up inside, and look over to find him focusing his attention on my legs.
Hell no, buddy…the nerve of him.
Grabbing the handle, I slam the door shut, and when there is a secure divider placed between us, I slowly lift my hand and give him the finger. Immature yes, by far one of the most childish things I have ever done, but somehow satisfying to see the brief moment of shock on his face. Of course it is very short-lived when his chest begins to shake with laughter and he offers me a menacing wave in return.
A cocky, arrogant salute.
Somehow, within seconds, this ass has managed to take my good mood and force it to do a complete one-eighty.
I drive across town, spouting every single obscenity I can muster up to describe this prick of a man, and when I pull into the parking lot of the salon, my mood hasn’t tamed itself one bit. In fact, I am even more pissed off than I had been when I left a laughing asshole standing confidently in my driveway.
I wonder how much trouble I will get into if I blast my stereo at four in the morning while ensuring all the speakers are facing directly at his bedroom windows?
Chapter Five
Shane
“How long has the doctor been with her?” My stomach is in knots, almost to the point of feeling sick. Standing outside my mother’s room, I look in the small window at the side of her door as the doctor listens to her heart, lungs, and so on.
“About fifteen minutes.” Martha remains at my side, her hand upon my forearm. “She had a rough night, battling a fever.” I feel my chest shake as I take in a deep, calming breath. “The first seizure hit about five this morning.”
“And after that?” I press my lips together in a tight line, doing all I can to rid the ache that is building inside my chest.
“Two more before they gave her the medication.”
I nod, unable to speak any further. I hate this. I hate everything about this. Dealing with the unknown, the uncertainty of what my life now is, it’s all too much. One day to the next, I have no idea what is to come, and the fact that I can’t protect her drives me mad inside. I have absolutely no power to help her; I have no way to comfort her.
“Why don’t you take the day off, Shane?” Before Martha even finishes her sentence, I am shaking my head in response. “It isn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.” I turn to look at her and find the same kindness in her eyes that has always been there. “Everything you do, every breath you take, revolves around your mother, and that is more admirable than I could ever explain. You are a rare find, Shane. Not many would tie up their lives to care for their parent, but you have. You’ve put your entire life on hold so you can be here every day and night. You work more hours than any one person should, and you go without so she can have the best care you can find.”
“She’s my mother.” My voice cracks as I say the words, and I do nothing to hide the emotions that hit me hard. A single tear runs along my cheek and hangs from my jaw as I look back toward the bed holding my mother.
“And as a mother myself, I am saying that if she could tell you, she would.” I hang my head and close my eyes. “You need a break, Shane. You need to find a life outside of this nursing home. You need to reconnect with friends, go out, enjoy a night to yourself.”
How can I consciously walk away from her?
“You are not him.” And as if Martha can read my mind, she says out loud exactly what I’m thinking. “To be here for her, you need to take care of yourself, too. The tension isn’t good for either of you. You are drowning, and I know you’ll never admit it, so this is me kicking you out. I am demanding that you spend a day or two away from here.”
I take a few minutes to weigh out her words before I nod and stand tall once more.
“You’ll call me if—”
“I will be with her all night, Shane. That is a promise.” Martha wraps her arms around me, and I give in to the comfort I feel from her embrace. It has been so long since I have allowed myself to feel vulnerable. From the second my father turned his back and walked away, I formed a wall around me. I was no longer allowed to break or feel defeated. The weight of it all rested upon my shoulders, and I had no other choice but to carry it.
I’m not sure how long we stood there in the hallway like that. When I step back and she looks up at me, I know that walking away for tonight is what needs to be done. Martha is right, I have to step back, because if I don’t let go, I’ll fall apart at the seams. That is something I can’t risk, not when my mother needs me. Not when I am all she has.
As I push through the door o
f Evergreen Estates and step out into the night air, I ignore the sense of abandonment I feel. I can’t go there; it will eat me alive.
Grabbing my phone out of my back pocket, I pull up Slate’s contact information and tap out a message to my best friend. A guy that has never turned his back on me. Even when things got rough and I tried to push him away, he refused to let go.
Me: Meet me at Mulligans.
It only takes seconds for him to reply.
Slate: You working?
Me: No, I’m drinking.
I know tomorrow I’ll regret the choices I’m making tonight, but for one night, I want to forget about everything and just live in the moment. I want to ignore all the responsibilities I have and pretend that I have no one relying on me. For once I want to be irresponsible, and I’ll deal with the aftermath tomorrow.
Slate: Fuck yeah, meet you there in 30.
I already knew in thirty minutes I would be three shots and a beer into the night I had planned. It is time to get shit-faced, time to ignore everything else and be freed.
It is time to let go of this ache inside of me and for the first time in years be careless.
***
“You wanna talk about it?” Slate stands at my side, looking at me, already knowing that something has to have happened for me to be on the opposite side of the bar tonight. He’s been my friend my entire life, and before everything went to hell, he and I were more like brothers.
“Not really.” I’m well aware of the slow slur of my words. I am numb, my body lax, and my mind at ease. Drinking doesn’t cure anything, but for the time being, it sure as shit is giving me an out from all the troubles in my life. “Just time to let go for a bit is all.” I know without a doubt he doesn’t buy it.
