Covet Thy Neighbor

by L. A. Witt

  “You sure you have to go?” he asked, panting as I kissed my way down his neck.

  “Go?” I paused to flick my tongue just above his collar. “Who said anything about going?”

  “You… you did… I….” A shiver pressed his body closer to mine. “No one.”

  I grinned against his neck. “That’s what I thought.”

  His fingers slid through my hair, but then he grabbed it and pulled my head back, and before I’d even gotten past that shock, his lips were against mine. Fucking hell, but aggressive men were my weakness, and nothing turned me on like—

  He pushed me up against the wall. I pulled back and looked at him, completely stunned, and he had the most devilish gleam in his eyes in that split second before he kissed me again. And then his hands were on my jeans. My belt. My zipper. Christ.

  Darren broke the kiss, and I didn’t even have time for a half-assed Is this a good idea? before he went to his knees.

  Both his hand and mouth slid down and up my cock—one creating friction, one slick and hot—and his other hand rested on my hip. I put one hand over his, grasped his hair with the other. Low groans reverberated against my skin, making sure I knew he enjoyed this as much as I did, and my mouth watered at the thought of returning the favor right here in the hallway.

  Damn you, Darren, you’re making it very hard to—very difficult to tell myself we can’t… that we can’t… that… oh, sweet mother of God, keep doing that….

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned. My eyes rolled back. My knees almost shook right out from under me. My hand hit the wall beside me and clawed at the wallpapered plaster for some kind of purchase, some kind of something to hold on to as I fell apart.

  As he stood, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You still need to leave for the evening?”

  “You want me to?” When did my teeth start chattering?

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then no.” I wrapped my arms around him. “I don’t need to be anywhere.”

  “Good. Because you’re needed in my bedroom.”

  Chapter Five

  IF THERE was anything worse than an awkward morning after, it was two awkward mornings after in a row. Or, well, I assumed that would be the case, but I didn’t wait around to find out. When we finally exhausted each other around two o’clock in the morning and the only options remaining were falling asleep or staying awake and talking, I kissed him good night, put on my jeans, and escaped to my own apartment.

  Where I promptly didn’t sleep.

  Stanley announced his presence with a soft meow and then climbed onto the bed. He walked across me as he always did—Christ, I needed to put the little fucker on a diet—before he flopped down beside me. I scratched his ears, which got a quiet purr out of him. For a minute, anyway. Then he got up, moved out of my reach, and curled up again with his back to me. Typical.

  While my cat reminded me of my place in the universe, I stared up at the ceiling and couldn’t make heads or tails of this situation with Darren.

  Okay, so there was no denying the physical attraction. Or the compatibility in bed. Darren was aggressive and demanding, and then turned around and bottomed with a degree of enthusiasm that drove me insane. And he wasn’t after anything serious either.

  Question was, what did he expect out of this?

  And what did I expect out of it? Fuck if I knew. All I knew was that I didn’t get hung up on guys. I just didn’t. But then, I didn’t usually fuck someone I had to pass in the hall and on the street every damned day. I probably could’ve avoided him if he’d been a little more avoidable.

  At least this morning we didn’t run into each other during my “commute.” Yet another advantage of working downstairs from my apartment: I could get the fuck from one door to the next in no time flat.

  And, in theory, use my work to get my mind off Darren, but that didn’t turn out to be terribly effective. Cleaning, designing, prepping, tattooing—even those tasks that held my attention couldn’t completely erase Darren from my thoughts.

  “Hey, Seth?” Lane looked up from the sleeve he was detailing on a Mohawked college kid’s forearm. “Don’t you have somewhere to be soon?”

  “What? Not until—” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh shit!” I scrambled to my feet and grabbed my coat. “I’m going to be late.”

  Lane laughed. “Only you could be late for an appointment that’s right across the damned street.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “Idiot.” The kid with the Mohawk laughed, then flinched as Lane continued working.

  At least Michael would understand. He certainly knew me—and my habit of losing track of time—well enough. And fortunately these days, he was close by. He’d moved his practice from the other side of town to the vacant space across the street from my shop after he’d moved in with Jason. I had to say, there were worse things in life than your childhood best friend becoming an acupuncturist and opening a clinic nearby so he could tend to your every ache and pain.

  Then again, those worse things were having all those fucking aches and pains to begin with. Goddamn this aging bullshit.

  As I walked into the clinic, I took a deep breath of the mixture of herbs always hanging in the air. That smell alone was enough to unwind some muscles. It was like a promise that relief wasn’t far away.

  Nathan, the absolutely gorgeous hipster twink who worked as Michael’s receptionist, strutted out from the back room. “Oh, hey you! I was just wondering if you’d make it over here.”

  I smiled. “You know how it is.” I pointed at my shop. “Appointments run late.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He nodded down the hall and rolled his eyes. “Mr. ‘I only need forty-five minutes for each appointment, so don’t book them for a full hour’ back there will learn eventually.”

  “Yeah, right.” I shook my head. “I’ve known the man since he was a kid. Trust me, he’ll never learn.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Michael came around the corner. “Are you talking trash about me to my employees?”

  “Isn’t like it’s anything he hasn’t heard or experienced before.”

  Nathan smothered a laugh and sat behind his desk. “No comment.”

  Michael threw him a glare, then beckoned to me. “All right. Dull, rusty needles for you today.”

  “Promises, promises.” I winked at Nathan, he returned it, and I followed Michael.

  In one of the rooms toward the end of the hall, I sat on the massage table while Michael took a seat on the rolling stool.

  “So,” he said. “How’s the neck feeling today?”

  “Not too bad. Been a little stiff on the right side the last couple of days, though.”

  “Full schedule this week?”

  “One after the other.”

  “Dumb shit.” Michael smacked my knee with his clipboard. “How many times do we have to go over this? If you’d get some more ergonomic equipment like I keep telling you, you wouldn’t fuck up your neck every time you have a busy week.”

  “And I wouldn’t be pouring money into your wallet, so back off.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He stood and set the clipboard where he’d been sitting. “Shirt off. Assume the position.”

  I took off my shirt and shoes, then lay facedown on the table.

  Michael gently prodded my neck and upper back, finding all those tense, tender spots like they were visible to him. He tapped in a few needles one at a time. Out of the blue he asked, “So what’s his name?”

  I lifted my head. “Beg your pardon?”

  Michael raised his eyebrows, then chuckled and focused on the needle in his hand. After he’d tapped it into place, he said, “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He opened another needle packet. “How long have we known each other, Seth?”

  “I don’t know. Like twenty years now, isn’t it?”

  He positioned the needle just below the base of my neck and tapped it. “And af
ter two damned decades, don’t you think I’ve learned how to tell when some guy’s keeping you up at night?”

  I said nothing. Forehead pressed against the doughnut pillow, I closed my eyes and tried to will the muscles in my torso to just relax before all this tension counteracted everything I was paying Michael to do.

  “Jesus, man.” Michael pressed his fingertips into one particularly tense muscle, and I swore through gritted teeth. He put a couple of needles near that spot. “What’s his name?”

  I swallowed. “Jason tell you about him?”

  “No, he hasn’t mentioned him.”

  “I told him the story last night. At the club.”

  “I see.” Another needle into a tender muscle. “Well, he was still asleep when I left this morning, and I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. So I guess I get it straight from the horse’s mouth?”

  “I guess you do.” I swallowed. “His name is Darren.” I gestured in the general direction of my tattoo shop across the street. “He moved into the apartment across the hall after Robyn moved out.”

  “What’s he like?”

  In spite of all my reservations, I couldn’t help smiling. “He’s a great guy. Funny. Easy to talk to. You know those people you meet and feel like you’ve known your whole life?”

  “Yep. He’s one of them?”

  “Very much so.” I sighed. “Except for the sort of minor detail about him being a fucking minister.”

  Michael’s hands paused as he placed another needle. “A minister?”

  “Yeah. You know. Guy who waves the Bible around and—”

  “Yes, I know, smartass. So if he’s a fucking minister”—Michael tapped another needle into place—“does that mean you’re fucking a fucking minister?”

  I laughed.

  So did he, and playfully smacked my arm. “You dog. Lead him not into temptation.”

  “Please.” I snorted. “I didn’t lead him into temptation. He tore off my clothes and led me to—”

  Michael laughed again. “Oh. Yeah. And I’m sure you were protesting the whole time.”

  “I was!”

  “Is he hot?”

  “Of course he is.”

  “Then no, you weren’t.”

  I sighed dramatically. “You know me entirely too well.”

  Michael just snickered.

  “Pity he’s part of that crowd,” I said. “He’s a nice guy, but… there’s no way I can get involved with someone like that.”

  “He isn’t our families, though,” Michael said. “Just the fact that you were able to talk to him tells me he’s not one of those self-righteous cunts like the people we grew up around. That bunch would’ve beaten you with Bibles and drowned you in holy water by now.” He paused, no doubt eyeing me the way he always did. “Obviously he’s not that type, is he?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Then give him a chance.”

  I sighed. “With a past like mine, that’s easier said than done, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. But it could be worth it.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Well, at least don’t write him off quite yet. Now lay here and relax for a while. I’ll be back in ten.”

  He left me in the dark, quiet room, and I closed my eyes as the muscles in my back and neck slowly unwound—as much as they could with Darren still front and center in my mind, of course. Add to that a few aches and twinges to remind me that no, I hadn’t imagined last night, and it was difficult to relax. Fortunately, though, the sleepless night caught up with me, and I managed to drift off for a little while.

  Eventually Michael came back in. Neither of us said anything as he took out all the needles, and once he was done with that, I sat up. We discussed my neck and shoulder, same shit we did every other week, but when we were done, he didn’t dismiss me.

  He folded his hands on top of his clipboard. “While you were in here, I was thinking about your situation. With your neighbor.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  He nodded. “And I can understand where you’re coming from, being hesitant about this guy. I was there, man. I saw what you went through. But….” He tapped a pen on the clipboard. “The bullshit our families put us through, especially yours, is a big part of why I didn’t accept I was gay myself until fairly recently. And if I had let what happened to both of us keep controlling me, I would have missed out on Jason. Plain and simple.”

  I gingerly rubbed the back of my neck. “Except this isn’t a matter of accepting my sexuality or something like that. I feel like… I don’t know, like I’ve suddenly got a crush on the football player who beat me up in school.”

  “Seth, if anything, you’ve got a crush on someone who happens to play for the same team as that asshole. Hell, someone who just happens to play the same sport. Doesn’t mean he had any part of hurting you, he’s just playing football with the guy.”

  I chewed my lip. “What would you do, then? If Jason were part of the same church our families are part of?”

  “Darren isn’t part of that church,” he said. “And obviously he’s gay too. Into men, anyway. I don’t imagine he’s going to shun you for it. Quite the opposite, from the sound of it.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “He could be worth it,” Michael said after a moment.

  “He could be. Or this could blow up in my face. Badly.”

  “Maybe. Things could have blown up between me and Jason. He was my patient and my roommate, for crying out loud, so believe me, I get it.” He cocked his head, arching an eyebrow like he always did when he saw right through me. “I think you’re worried because you’re afraid you might get attached to him.”

  I swallowed.

  He went on. “I think you’re less worried about having a casual fling with your hot minister neighbor than you are about getting attached to your hot minister neighbor.”

  “When did you become an expert on this shit?”

  That fucking eyebrow again. “Since I’ve been watching your dumb ass trying to rationalize your way out of putting yourself in a position to fall in love with someone?”

  “What?” I laughed. “What the hell are—”

  He shot me a look that cut me off. “Seth. For crying out loud.”

  “What? Who said anything about falling for the guy?”

  Michael sighed heavily. “For as much as you try to be a badass tough guy, everyone and their mother knows you’re the sappiest romantic on the planet.”

  I sat straighter. “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s true,” he said with a half shrug. “And especially when it comes to this guy.”

  “Michael, I’ve known him for like two days. What the hell?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I held his gaze, trying to read his expression. “What?”

  “Seth.” Michael sighed. “I’m not saying you two are destined to fall in love or something, but I think you’re jumping the gun by closing yourself off to the possibility. And with this guy in particular, I’m thinking that knee-jerk reaction might be a mistake.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “How do you figure?”

  “At the beginning of your appointment, I asked you what he was like.”

  “And?”

  “And there were two ways you could have answered that. One was the way you do when you’re lusting after someone and couldn’t care less if anything goes beyond that. You would have been describing his ass and his shoulders and saying he had a mouth that was made for something you would describe in some poetically obscene way.” Michael’s eyebrow quirked. “When I asked you about this guy? You said he was funny and easy to talk to.”

  My heart dropped. I hadn’t even noticed that myself, but of course this motherfucker knew me way too well.

  Michael laughed softly. “And don’t even try to argue with me. I can tell at a hundred paces when you even think you might fall for someone.” He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned a little closer. “The weird thing is seeing you fight it
this hard.”

  I lowered my gaze. “I’ve only known him for a few days.”

  “Never stopped you before.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Michael sighed. “I know the fact that he’s a minister makes you nervous. And you know I understand why. But if there’s something about this guy that’s making you sit up and take notice, and you have to fight this hard to convince yourself not to see where things go with him, then maybe he’s worth the risk.” Before I could answer, he added, “Seth, your parents cost you a lot of good things in your life.” He inclined his head, and his expression was serious enough to make my heart stop. “Don’t let them cost you this too.”

  I avoided Michael’s gaze. “What happens if it doesn’t work out?” I gestured toward my building. “We live across the hall from each other.”

  Michael shrugged. “So you just quietly pass in the hall like you would with any other shitty neighbor.”

  I glared at him. “You really think it’d be that simple with an ex?”

  “Probably not. But I’m guessing it won’t be much less awkward if you guys are just passing in the hall with all this tension and shit between you.”

  Or if we keep dragging each other to bed, even when it’s probably not a good idea. “Fair point.”

  “Just talk to him, take it a day at a time, and for the love of God, don’t fuck this up.”

  I laughed. “I’ll try not to.”

  “Good. Anyway, I have to get to my other patients. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.”

  “All right. Tell Nathan to set you up two weeks from Monday.” Michael picked up his clipboard. “But if it gets too painful, I can get you in sooner. And check into some of that ergonomic equipment, would you?”

  “Will do.”

  “Liar,” he muttered.

  We both laughed. Then we hugged briefly, and he left the room while I put my shirt and shoes back on.

  He was right about Darren. Of course he was. I barely knew Darren, but I could see myself wanting more from him than sex and friendship. We just clicked too well, and I couldn’t ignore that. Logically and intellectually, I knew that.