So Long: Bad Boy Next Door

by Kelley Harvey

  His charm will get him nowhere.

  “Good, I hope my date will think the same thing.”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Another date, eh? This one from that site too?”

  “Yes. He seems nice.” I smooth out my skirt again, checking the navy fabric for lint.

  “Oh? Not afraid he’s padded his résumé?”

  No way am I telling Adam that I’m more than a little worried I’m being snookered again.

  I smile. “This time, I asked to see his other social media stuff. So, unless he’s built a really elaborate alter ego, then I think he’s at least being truthful about how he looks.”

  “Good. Let me know if you need me to show him how much you hate lies.” His eyes are hidden by his shades, but I can imagine the glint in them.

  “Thanks. But I can handle my dates on my own.” I turn toward my car.

  “Yes, I’m sure you can. Be safe.”

  I get into the car and buckle in. I dig into the side pocket of my purse for the key.

  Crap. Where is it?

  I shuffle junk from the pocket to the seat next to me. No keys.

  I dig through old tissues, kiddie meal toys, and a thousand and one pens. Still no keys.

  Great. The house is locked.

  No house keys. No car keys.

  No magic words to open says me.

  Perfect.

  I drop my forehead to the heated steering wheel.

  Great. Now I’ll get all sweaty and gross.

  Not that it matters—I can’t get to the restaurant anyway.

  Damn it!

  Is this your way of telling me to forget dating, God? Is that it?

  Will I be alone forever? Or destined to be with guys who don’t give a shit about me?

  A knock at my window snaps me upright.

  I open the door. “What?”

  Adam crosses his arms. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  “Keys. I have no keys. They were in my purse, and now they aren’t.”

  “And the house is locked?”

  I grip the wheel. “That’s the problem. If it weren’t locked, I’d hop on in there and grab my keys…from wherever-the-fuck they disappeared to.”

  “You can call a locksmith.”

  I slump. “Yeah. I guess I could. Shit. I’m going to be late. And this guy actually seems like he has potential.”

  Adam lets out a long sigh. “Potential, eh?”

  “Well, more than the others. I just—ugh. My life. There’s always something fucking it up.”

  “Give me a minute. I’ll get you into your house.”

  I spring from the car. “Really? You can do that?”

  “Yeah. I can do that.”

  He heads next door and is back by the time I reach my front porch.

  He pokes a couple of small tools into the lock. Then he jiggles the door handle, and it opens as if he used a key.

  My jaw drops.

  He shrugs. “Misspent youth?”

  “Not misspent. Thank you. Thank you so freaking much.”

  I step inside, leaving the door open. Adam follows.

  Searching all the flat surfaces yields nothing.

  Adam digs into the cushions on the couch. Nada.

  I spy Chloe curled up in the bottom of my potted fichus tree.

  I pick up her limp body. “Did you steal my keys, you little terrorist?”

  She answers with a meow.

  Nestled into the peat moss where she’s made her nest are my keys, along with three emery boards and two unmatched socks.

  I snatch the keys and jingle them. “Got them. The cat must’ve stolen them from my purse. The little turd.”

  Adam’s eyebrows rise. “Got yourself a thief, huh?”

  Shaking my head, I motion him to the door. “Yeah. She’s almost as bad as your thieving dog.”

  “Hey now, I broke into your house so you could go on a date—a date with some douche who isn’t me, to boot. I’ll thank you not to slander my dog.”

  I grin. “Just keeping it real, my friend. Your mutt is a thief. But so is my cat, and there we are.”

  Adam doesn’t come to my car to see me off like he did last time. He probably doesn’t give a flying rat’s ass if I’m going out with someone else.

  He gives a half-hearted wave as I back out of my driveway. I return it, putting on an extra-bright smile.

  Why do I care if he doesn’t give a shit that I might fuck someone besides him?

  What is wrong with me? I tell him friends only, and then I want him to chase me?

  Good Lord, he makes me freaking bi-polar.

  * * *

  Hunter stands from his bench seat as I enter The Sushi House.

  Relief floods through me.

  At least he looks like his photos. Tall, fit, and all of his dark hair in place. Hopefully, everything else he’s told me is true as well.

  Hunter pulls out my chair.

  Would Adam have done the same if we’d have sat at a regular table and not a booth the other night?

  We order drinks. I unfold and refold my napkin six times before they arrive.

  Hunter’s brown eyes are kind when he says, “Nervous?”

  I rub my knuckle across my eyebrow. “A little, I guess. Sorry if the fidgeting bothers you.”

  “No need to apologize. Nerves are normal, I’m sure. I’ve been on too many first dates, it’s getting pretty old hat for me, I’m afraid. Second dates are the ones that make me nervous now.”

  “Really? Second dates?”

  “Because I’ve had so few.” He laughs. “A lot of the women I meet on that site aren’t quite what they’ve presented themselves to be.”

  I snatch a breath. “Oh. My. Gosh! Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I’ve had that experience with the one other guy I’ve met through the site. He wasn’t at all who he pretended to be online.”

  We chat a bit about online dating and how weird it is, lamenting that there aren’t a lot of other choices without hitting the bar scene.

  The stories Hunter shares about his childhood, and the way he and his sister were with each other, are comedian-worthy material.

  “…And so my sister rams the forbidden shirt into the garbage disposal to hide it. When Granny comes in, Brit strolls across the room, all nonchalant-like, trying to draw attention away from the hidden contraband. Of course, Granny had a half a plate of spaghetti that she promptly dumps into the sink. You should have heard the sound the thing made when she flipped the switch and turned on the disposal. The house could have been coming down around us. Granny almost had a heart attack, and Britney melted into tears.” He shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  I burst out laughing.

  I wonder if Adam has brothers or sisters.

  Ack! I have to stop thinking about Adam.

  Hunter stands when I excuse myself to go to the ladies’ room.

  He really is the perfect gentleman.

  Did Adam do that? Wait. No. I didn’t excuse myself from the table while we were out.

  Damn. Why do I keep thinking about Adam? He is not supposed to be on this date with me.

  After Hunter pays the bill, he ushers me outside. We stand by my car and talk. And the more we talk, the more awkward it seems to get. It’s as if neither of us know exactly how to end the evening.

  I should put us out of our misery.

  “Okay. I really should be going. I’ve enjoyed meeting you.”

  He reaches for my hand and steps closer. But then he stops short, like he’s not sure if he’s gotten into my space or not.

  I grin. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

  He nods as he slips his arms around me and pulls me in, but not too tightly. “I really do.”

  His spicy and clean scent envelops me.

  Hunter’s lips come down, nice and easy. Firm enough, but not too insistent, they feather across my mouth and then back again. He pulls away but doesn’t let go.

  Not bad.

  He g
rins. “I’d like to do that again.”

  This time, he pulls me closer and presses his lips to mine. Then his tongue slides along the seam of my lips, tentatively, as though he’s asking permission.

  Adam doesn’t ask—he just does.

  Fuck.

  Get out of my head, Adam.

  I open to Hunter, allowing his tongue to sweep in. He holds me tighter and deepens the kiss. I do my best to participate, but…it’s just—he’s—not Adam.

  Crap.

  Shit.

  No fair.

  I pull a long neck from the fridge.

  Spike gives a low whine.

  With the toe of my boot, I nudge his bowl. “Water for you, my friend. Beer’s for those of us who pay the mortgage.”

  Spike flops onto his back, baring his stomach and turning his head so he can plead with his eyes.

  “You’re lucky, boy. Women don’t get under your skin.” Using my ring as a lever, I pop off the top and salute him with the bottle.

  I turn toward the living room, and a flurry of fur and feet scrambles to follow.

  He jumps into my recliner, as though I’m going to let him have the only seat in the house. After I push him to the floor, I settle in and pull out my wallet and my phone.

  I dig a wrinkled picture from between my driver’s license and my bank card.

  It’s the first of the month. As much as it guts me, and it does every fucking time, I have a call to make.

  I bring up Jen’s number and down half of my beer.

  We settled in for the night with sand up our asses and in our boots. But it didn’t matter. Exhaustion makes those things less important than they’d be in the real world. And this wasn’t the real world. This was another world, a different world—dusty and dirty and dangerous.

  I took a swig from my canteen and passed it to Shulls.

  Carter saluted me with it. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.”

  He leaned toward me, his voice raw from a day in the dry heat. “You know, you’re the best guy I know.”

  I grinned. “Shush. Don’t tell anyone.”

  His smile faded, and his eyes got this intense look. “Seriously, Hardick…you’re my best friend. I don’t have anyone else I trust as much as you.”

  I reach for my fly. “If my cock weren’t coated with desert, I’d let you jack me off, but as it is, I’d probably get sand burns.”

  Shulls let out a laugh. “Yeah, and I’d end up with something I can’t wash off, as much as you spread that shit around back home. No thanks, dude.”

  I settled down, pulling my helmet over my eyes, hoping to catch at least a couple of winks. But before I could blank out, Shulls tapped my shin.

  “You asleep?”

  I pushed the helmet up enough to crack one eye at him. He pulled out his flashlight and the wad of papers he kept tucked into his breast pocket.

  “You know, Jen and the kids love you. Always have.”

  “Jen picked the wrong guy. I’m better looking, and my dick’s bigger. You know it. I know it. She knows it—well, she knows I’m better looking, anyway.”

  Shulls kicked the side of my leg with the heel of his boot. “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here.”

  “Life is too fucking serious, man. All I’m doing is trying to lighten the mood.”

  Carter held out a creased photo, shining the beam of his flashlight on it. “See them? They depend on me. I depend on you. If something happens, I gotta know you’ll be there for them.”

  I sat up straighter as my chest tightened. “Nothing’s gonna happen to—”

  He kicked me again. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Hanson bought it last week and the week before that it was Bateman.”

  “Yeah, but they were in the wrong places at the wrong times.” The heaviness in my gut was getting to be too much. “Besides, Bateman was an asshole.”

  Carter shined the light into my eyes. “Shut the fuck up, man. You’re gonna bring bad juju on us. Don’t you know you should never speak ill of the dead?”

  I hung my head, knowing Shulls wouldn’t be happy until I showed how contrite I was. “Sorry. At least Bateman loved his momma. God bless him.”

  Carter shoved his photo into my hand. “Anyway, I need to know you’ll take care of Jen and the kids, you know—if something happens to me.”

  My scalp prickled. I pushed the helmet off and scratched the top of my head. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, Shulls. But if it makes you sleep better, I promise, if something does, I’ll be there for Jen and the kids. Whatever they need, whenever they need it. Day. Night. Rain. Shine. Drunk or sober. I’ll be there.”

  Carter pats my chest. “Good man. Thank you.”

  I push his arm away. “I ain’t talking about this again. You feel me? Now go the fuck to sleep.”

  And he did go to sleep. Then, two days later…

  I shake my head and wipe my nose with the back of my wrist.

  Suck it up, Hardick. Suck it up and press on.

  I hit the call button.

  “Adam, it’s late. I almost thought you’d forgotten.” Jen’s smile comes through with her words.

  I cough to clear the rest of my memories. “Me? Forget about you? No way in hell.”

  She sighs. “You know, you don’t have to call on the first of every month. I’m doing all right. We’re all doing okay. Besides, we just talked three days ago.”

  My chest tightens. “I told him I’d watch out for you. I made a promise. I’m not breaking it just because you say everything is fine. And I call on the first of the month because I want to make sure you’ve got everything you need for the month. Rent? Food? Shoes for the rug rats?”

  She clears her throat. “Carter loved you so much, Adam. He was lucky to have you. I’m lucky—we’re lucky to have you. We have everything we need. Everything.”

  The clamp on my lungs relaxes a bit. “So how’s Maddie’s tooth? Did it come out?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, when Tucker accidentally head-butted her with his bike helmet.”

  The image of little Maddie missing her front tooth brings a smile—even while I rub my eyes to clear the sting of unshed tears. Carter should’ve been here to see his little girl when she lost her first tooth.

  I swallow the wad of regret and guilt trying to choke me. “At least it’s out. How did Ryan do at horse camp?”

  “Ah. The horses. Yeah. That. Well, let’s just say that after a certain midnight ride, he may or may not be invited back next year. Thank you for sending the money for him to go. I wish it hadn’t been wasted by him being sent home early.”

  I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “Did he have fun while he was there?”

  Bickering kiddos in the background crank up the volume so she has to raise her voice. “He had a great time. Hold on, Adam. Hey, don’t tell your sister to shut up. And you two, stop it before I make you kiss and make up.”

  Immediate peace falls on the other end of the line.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jen’s got her mom-tone perfected. “Sorry about that. What were we talking about? Oh, yeah, Ryan and his truncated horse camp. He had loads of fun.”

  “Then the money wasn’t wasted.”

  “You’re too nice, you know?”

  “Nah. I’m really not. I know Carter would’ve wanted someone to help you and the kids out.”

  “And you do it well, thank you. So, we haven’t seen you since you moved into that house. The kids have been asking about you. Want to get together for an afternoon or something? Oh, and Maddie has a very important question she wants to ask you.”

  My heart slugs along as I think of all Carter has missed—will miss—with his children. “Sure. Hey, there’s a community pool in my neighborhood. We can take the rug rats.”

  “Yes. That’d be perfect. All right. Now that all of that is out of the way, tell me—how are you? Seeing anyone?”

  My gut clenches. She asks me this same
question every time we talk. And when she does, all I ever think is that I don’t deserve to see anyone, especially since Carter can’t see her.

  “Adam, you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Aw. You are seeing someone! That’s so great.”

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  “Yes you are. You never hesitate like that. Who is she? What’s she like? What’s her name?”

  I can almost see her grin.

  “Calm your jets, woman. We’re not seeing each other. We aren’t doing anything.”

  “But there is someone? Someone you like?”

  I push my fingers through my hair.

  Fuck.

  “She’s my neighbor.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. She went on a date tonight. With some guy she met through an online dating site.” My stomach churns just thinking about it.

  I wait for Jen to comment, but silence is all I get.

  After a solid minute and a half, I can’t take it. “Fine. I like her. A lot. I like her a lot, and she’s all dressed up in these hot, red heels for some shithead who isn’t worthy of her. But she doesn’t want to go out with me. Wants to be friends…thinks that’s what’s best. I honestly don’t even know if she likes me.”

  “Well, you’ll have to change her mind.”

  “Change her mind?”

  “Adam Hardick, you are a great catch. You’re smart, loyal, and not bad looking under all that hair. If she’s what trips your trigger, there’s zero reason you shouldn’t go after her. Figure out what she wants and help her see that you’re what she can’t live without.”

  I’m fucked. Because I have no idea what Kelsey can’t live without.

  * * *

  I dig out my laptop and plug it in.

  After checking my email, which is overflowing with advertisements and spam, I pull up the browser.

  What was the name of that dating site Kelsey mentioned?

  I type DATE.COM.

  Now, what do I have to do to find one Kelsey Malone? I’ll see what she’s looking for in a guy. Maybe I can help her find it.

  Of course I can’t just stalk her profile.

  The site won’t let me browse unless I sign up and pay.

  Pay. To find out what she wants in a man—not just a get-laid guy, but a guy she actually might date?

  Is it worth the money to learn that information?