Being Neighborly

by Meka James

  The thrusting of her tongue into his mouth snapped him into action. He disentangled the overeager woman’s arms from around his neck and pushed her away.

  With the back of his hand, he swiped his mouth and scowled at the blonde. “What the hell, Ashley? What the fuck are you doing here?”

  She pointed a perfectly manicured hot pink nail at his chest. “Aww, babe, you can’t still be mad at me. We had a tiff. I gave you time to cool off.”

  The crinkling of a bag got his attention. Shit!

  “Who’s that?” The disdain in Ashley’s tone grated on him.

  “Pea—”

  Jess held her hand up and shook her head. “I... I should go.” She dropped her head and took the path behind Ashley, who drew up and invaded more of Ryan’s space.

  When he reached out to grab her arm, Jess darted to the side and stayed out of reach.

  “Ryan, answer me. Who the fuck is that?”

  He ignored the complaining intruder behind him and kept his focus on the quick steps of his now upset neighbor. After Jess entered her place, he waited to see if she’d look at him, something, but she didn’t even glance in his direction. When she pulled the blinds across and snapped them closed, Ryan flinched as if he’d been slapped in the face.

  Chapter Nine

  Jess

  “Stupid! Absolutely, positively stupid!” Jess stomped on the foot pedal of her trashcan, making the black plastic lid fly up with a bang. She chucked her leftovers into the silver receptacle; the top bounced upon its rapid close.

  She pressed her palms to her eyes and took a breath. “It’s only been a week and a half,” she whispered.

  Only a week and a half. It was just sex. Only a week and a half. It was just sex. She repeated the mantra in her head. Maybe if she said it enough, she’d actually start to not feel like such a fool. After another cleansing breath, Jess moved toward her fridge. She stuck her head in the cool box before emerging with a soda. She popped the top and drank down the sweet reminder of home, and hoped the sugary beverage would calm her erratic heart.

  He had a girlfriend. She’d been nothing more than a rebound girl. Hell, not even that. An intermission, that’s all she’d been. An itch to be scratched during the interim. The thought made the all too familiar ache in her chest tighten. How in the hell had she managed to catch feelings for a dude in such a short time?

  With a sharp intake of breath, Jess reached up and yanked the scarf from her hair, letting her curls tumble free. “Not feelings, Jesslyn. Just sex.”

  The words could be said, but the idea she’d been party to a possible cheating situation turned her stomach. Maybe her sisters were right; she wasn’t cut out to be off on her own. Being predictable—boring—that at least kept her out of trouble. A month by herself, trying to be more adventurous, ended up being an embarrassing disaster.

  * * *

  Saturday Jess spent her time cleaning and unpacking the remaining boxes that had sat untouched in the garage. Music poured from her Bluetooth portable speakers and the blinds on the sliding glass door had remained decidedly closed. Which, unfortunately for her, meant her only natural light came from the small, transom window above the front door. A small sacrifice if it meant she didn’t have to look across to his place and see him, or worse, see him with that chick.

  Ashley.

  Tall, slender, Ashley with her perfectly made up face, and manicured nails. The kind of woman men like Ryan dated. For the umpteenth time, Jess looked toward the vertical blinds. With a quick shake of her head, she attempted to clear out all of the wandering thoughts before they could make an appearance. She didn’t care what he was doing. Or if Ashley had spent the night. It didn’t matter if he’d had sex with the blonde in the same bed Jess had been in days prior.

  It’d been a fling.

  She’d been a fling.

  Time to move on.

  With more force than necessary, Jess jammed the box cutter into the cardboard, slicing through the taped bottom so fast she nicked her finger.

  “Shit!”

  After slamming the offending metal utensil down on the coffee table, Jess stalked to the kitchen, shoved the lever up to turn on the water, and stuck her hand under the cool stream. Her eyes closed and she rested her elbows on the speckled granite. After a few seconds, she shut off the water and inspected her cut. Nothing life threatening.

  As she headed upstairs to fetch a Band-Aid, three raps on her patio door stopped her. Her chest clenched and an avalanche of boulders descended in her stomach. She stared at the closed blinds knowing there was only one person on the other side. No breathing. No moving. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still he’d think she wasn’t home and would go away.

  Seconds ticked by like hours. Three more raps made her jump.

  “Peaches?”

  She bit down on the inside of her cheek, hearing the stupid nickname he’d saddled her with. Stupid name that gave her butterflies every time he said it. Including now.

  “Come on, Jess. I hear the music. I know you’re in there.”

  Her gaze darted to the traitorous speaker playing her classic 90s R&B playlist.

  “We really need to talk.”

  She started to respond, but pressed her lips together instead. She couldn’t guarantee what would come out of her mouth if she did He’d had no desire to talk and maybe give her the heads up he had a girlfriend. She released a slow breath; she wasn’t sure what hurt more: the fact he’d omitted that tidbit or that she’d let herself get caught up so fast. In truth, it was a fucked up combo of both that leaned heavier toward the latter.

  Deep inhales and slow exhales as she waited to see what he’d say next. Friends. The word popped in her head so loudly she’d thought it’d been spoken. Teasing, flirting, and mind-blowing sex aside, the F-word had clearly been stated more than once no matter how much her overactive imagination took her other places. Hell, he hadn’t bothered to get her phone number, and they hadn’t left his place before last night. Could they even be classified as friends?

  “Okay. I’ll go. But it’s not what you think.” Gone was the playful, somewhat cocky undertone his words usually held. In its place stood solemn dejection.

  Her chest tightened again. Did it really matter what she thought? The painful truth was he didn’t really owe her any explanations. Yet he’d come over to give her one. Why? Was he hoping she’d be okay keeping their “friends with benefits” status, reducing her to some side piece? The part of her brain that fed on the strong chemistry between them admonished her for the negative thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t one-sided and he’d actually felt it as well.

  A girl could hope, even if it was unlikely to be true. Whatever had been between them was over now. Taking slow, quiet steps, she eased toward the sliding glass door. She moved one of the vertical slats aside and peeked out in time to watch his retreating back enter his house.

  When he turned and looked in her direction, she quickly let the plastic fall back into place and pressed her body against the wall. She laughed at the absurdity of it all, hiding out from a guy as if she’d done something wrong. She’d talk to him, let him explain whatever he felt he needed to. But not today. Today her embarrassment over everything remained too fresh.

  He could let her down easy, explain it was all just fun—just sex—at a later date. But today, she’d hide out, maybe call Monique to have a long-distance girl’s night. She pushed off the wall and headed upstairs for that Band-Aid, feeling better about her plans. Jabbering on the phone with her friend, eating greasy food, and binge-watching Netflix and not thinking about the sexy, gray-eyed neighbor across the way. A perfect Saturday night.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryan

  Ryan’s gaze went directly to his patio door and he let out a heavy sigh when he saw the closed blinds across the greenway. The same sight had greeted him for the last four days. Those closed blinds sent a
very clear message—that and the fact she didn’t even respond to him when he’d gone over to talk to her.

  He’d kicked himself for not getting her number. At least he could have texted her with the explanation. Something. Anything would be better than the in formidable wall of vertical blinds. But seeing each other nearly every day after work, living so close, it never crossed his mind, and now he was paying for it.

  He ran his hands through his hair. This caring thing was new. Not that he was a total dick, but getting attached, that wasn’t him. Have fun, have some sex, move on. It’s what he did. And he was always honest and upfront about that. It’s not like this was the first time a girl had cut off communication, but those were mostly ones that thought they could change him and got pissy when he set them straight.

  Like Ashley.

  Motherfucking Ashley. Who went from blowing up his phone to radio silence. He’d thought she’d finally gotten the message and had cut her losses. Boy had he been wrong. Ashley wanted babies and marriage and thought they were soulmates. Well, that’s what she thought once she realized BB Construction stood for Bradley Branson, his father. Ryan suddenly became her golden ticket, or so she’d hoped. He, on the other hand, saw her as a massive, clingy headache who wasn’t even a good lay.

  Not like his Peaches. His Peaches. Ryan was acutely aware that he’d thought of her as his again. The adorable, easy going Southern belle whose entire being had deflated before his eyes four nights ago.

  “Fuck!” He turned and bounded up the stairs. Shit needed fixing. Going another day with her possibly thinking he was some sort of two-timing asshole was out of the question.

  After a quick shower, Ryan dressed, and armed with newfound determination started out his bedroom door. The black, satin material sitting on his dresser caught his eye. With a decisive nod, he picked up the panties and shoved them into his back pocket.

  When he rounded the corner to her street, relief washed over him. Her white compact car was there. She was home. Now he had to hope she’d open the door for him. Going to the front would hopefully increase her chances of doing that. She’d know it was him at the back, so depending on how fast he could talk, he might stand a chance of getting out a few words before she shut the door in his face. He took a breath before pressing the button. Time stood still as he waited for her to answer. Just as he got ready to push the bell again, the door swung open.

  His gaze raked over her body. Damn she was a sight for sore eyes. A light blue plastic shower cap was secured to the top of her head, a red towel lay wrapped around her shoulders, and a low-cut yellow tank top drew his gaze down. His fingers tingled at the memories that accompanied the sight. Later. If he was lucky enough to get back into her good graces.

  He gave her a smile. “You should really ask who it is before just opening the door.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and popped out a hip. “No need when I know who’s on the other side.”

  His grin widened. “So you were expecting me?”

  She rolled her eyes and turned and walked away. “Not really, but since I don’t get many visitors it was either you or some door-to-door salesperson.”

  Ryan closed the door behind him and followed her in. Already he counted this trip as a victory simply for being allowed inside.

  She sat at the corner of her tan sectional, crossing her legs on top of the cushion. To keep from giving in to his urge to touch her, he sat at the opposite end to leave plenty of space between them.

  Jess grabbed the remote, lowered the volume on the TV, and sat it back down before addressing him. “Why are you here?”

  Ryan reached behind him and pulled her panties free. He held them up and the recognition registered on her face. She looked down, but not before he saw the making of a smile tugging at those full lips.

  “I needed to return your property. And explain.”

  Her head snapped up. “There’s nothing to explain. I was a quick fix during your off time from your girlfriend.”

  The monotone delivery of that statement made him wonder how many times she’d rehearsed it. Not that it mattered; he remained stuck trying to process which part was the biggest kick to the nuts: her thinking he’d used her or her thinking he was a cheater. Neither option sat well with him.

  He stretched back and crossed his legs at the ankle. “You’re wrong.”

  She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “How so?”

  He took a chance and inched closer to her. “You are not a quick fix. Not even close. And she is not and has never been my girlfriend. We’d been hooking up for a couple of weeks; she was extra clingy. However, the thing that really made me break it off with her was when I caught her poking holes in my condoms.”

  The anger Ryan experienced that day returned when he recalled the incident. Ashley’s shocked look followed by her fucked up excuses made for a very surreal moment.

  Jess’ eyes widened and she uncurled her legs. “Holy shit. Are you serious?”

  ’Fraid so. You’ve been around me. I’m a pretty laid-back guy, but yeah, lost my shit that night. Anyway, after that she called and texted me like crazy for like weeks then stopped all of a sudden, maybe a week before we met. Thought she’d finally taken the hint ’til she showed up.” He moved a little closer. “So, see, Peaches, I’m not a bad guy.”

  The grin she tried to hide earlier freely spread across her face then dropped. “Wait, does that mean...was she successful?” She sat forward, moving within touching distance.

  He placed his hand over hers. “Are you worried I’ve been trapped into fatherhood?”

  “Well, yeah. We’re...friends, and that would be a shitty thing to have happen to a friend.” She removed her hand. “Not to mention it being a totally fucked up thing to do in general.”

  The way she stumbled over friends wasn’t lost on Ryan. He pressed his lips together to suppress his smile.

  “No need to worry, Peaches. My DNA is still all my own.”

  Her face again contorted. “Why? I mean, you’re great and all...but if you two had only been hooking up...”

  There was an implication dangling in the drop off of her question.

  Try as he might, the smile Ryan fought against made its way forward. “You think I’m great?”

  Her eyes rolled in response and he knew he needed to come clean. Not that he was hiding things, but his Georgia Peach deserved full disclosure.

  “The mall where you’re gonna work...that’s my site. I’m foreman, but the company...it’s a family business.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “BB Construction, one of the largest commercial companies in the state, is my family’s business.”

  The reaction he’d expected, the one he’d seen time and time again—the proverbial dollar signs ringing in her eyes—never came.

  Instead, she nodded and stood, pulling the plastic shower cap free. Her dark hair sat twisted atop her head, streaked with white. “I have to rinse the conditioner out now. Um...thanks for stopping by and returning these.”

  She leaned down to reach for her panties, but he kept them out of reach. He stood and shoved them back into his pocket. “Need help?”

  The words were out of his mouth before he even could process saying them. He had no fucking clue about women’s hair, but he would sure as hell attempt to help if it meant he could ignore her dismissal of him. A chance to touch her again was an added bonus.

  She did that mouth twist thing, and when she leaned her head to the side, the massive pile of hair slowly fell about her shoulders. “You want to help?” She raised a brow. “With my hair?”

  He reached out and picked up one of the coated strands. “Sure, why not? I’m good with my hands.”

  His comment was met with an appearance of her dimples and a quiet laugh.

  She bit the corner of her lip and gave a little huff. “Fine.”

  Without anoth
er word, she walked around the sofa and headed into her kitchen. He followed and leaned against the counter to wait as she turned the water on. She stuck her fingers under the stream, adjusting the lever more toward the hot side. This went on for a minute or so before she was satisfied with the temperature.

  She started to bend but stopped. “No funny business.” She gave him a coy grin then leaned forward, putting her voluptuous ass on display.

  Instant hard-on. He couldn’t help but stare at the glorious offering. Her shorts rode up and gave a teasing peek at the cheeks beneath and he found himself leaning to the side for a better view.

  “Mr. Good With My Hands, I’m waiting.”

  Her words snapped him to attention. He moved beside her, making sure he brushed his cock against her thigh, then proceeded to help rinse the white goop from her hair. The moans that passed her lips when he ran his fingers through and massaged her head made his dick jump. She had to be doing that on purpose.

  Once satisfied all the stuff was gone, Ryan shut off the water, but didn’t move back.

  She wrapped her wet curls in the towel and straightened. “Thanks.”

  He stepped forward, semi-trapping her between him and the counter, and placed his hands over hers to take over the drying action. “You’re welcome.”

  The coconut scent of her hair product flooded his senses. Her tongue moved across her bottom lip before she inched forward, making the slightest contact with his body. She placed her hands on the waistband of his pants. His actions stilled.

  Silently, he willed her to move them down and give relief to this aching cock. Unfortunately, she went the other direction, and slid them around until she got to his ass. She squeezed and grinned up at him. Lifting up on her tiptoes, she nipped his chin and moved down kissing his neck. He bent to give her better access.

  He gripped the counter behind her. “Peaches?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I think you’re starting with the funny business.”