Snap Count

by Daphne Loveling

  And something else, that makes me even madder.

  A jolt of pure, naked desire.

  Which is the absolute last thing I want to feel.

  As I work, I try to tell myself that the reason my body… overreacted… so strongly to Hot Neighbor Guy is simply because it’s been so long since I’ve had a boyfriend. As you can imagine, going to a women’s college for my undergraduate degree didn’t exactly make for tons of opportunities to meet guys. But that’s part of why I chose Saint Anne’s in the first place. It was a huge stretch for my family to help me pay for college, and I wanted to take it seriously. To make sure that I stayed focused on my studies. I did have a couple of boyfriends during my college years, but nothing so serious that it made me all that sad when the relationships ended.

  Since moving to Springville for grad school, I’ve been way too busy and focused on succeeding to have time for anything but making sure I do well in my classes and don’t lose my research assistant position. Even my mom has started hinting that maybe I should lighten up a little bit. I think she’s afraid I’m going to end up an old maid, but after all, I’m only twenty-four. There will be plenty of time for me to start dating once I’m done with graduate school. In the mean time, I just have to settle for the fact that my main source of male companionship has fur and slobbers on every available surface.

  And try to ignore the fact that a guy who looks like he stepped straight out of every adult woman’s dreams is just on the other side of my living room wall.

  After lunch, I snap on Zeus’s leash and take him downstairs for his afternoon walk. Before I go outside, I peer through the leaded glass of the front door to make sure Knox isn’t out there. Thankfully, all I see is the moving van, its back doors closed up tight. No movers or arrogant jerks are in sight. I scurry out the door —well, as fast as you can scurry with a hundred-thirty pound dog — and head down the street in the opposite direction, heaving a sigh of relief.

  The humidity hasn’t fallen since this morning, and since I was stupid enough to take Zeus out during the hottest part of the day I’m soon a sweaty mess. Tendrils of damp hair cling to my face. Beads of moisture pool between my breasts. I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts, but in this humidity I feel like I’m practically wearing a parka. As we trudge along, I pull on Zeus’s leash to get us over to the shadier side of the street, hoping for at least a little relief from the heat. Unfortunately, the trees in this neighborhood aren’t really big enough to offer much in the way of protection, so “shadier” is a pretty relative term.

  Even though Zeus normally loves a walk, today he isn’t much happier about all this than I am. I can hardly blame him for that, especially given that he’s covered in thick fur. After about five minutes of loping down the street in front of me, he decides to go on strike. Before I can stop him, he flops his giant body down in a rare patch of shade and refuses to go any further.

  “Oh, no… Come on, Zeus! Get up, buddy!” I coax, standing next to him and tugging on the leash. No deal. He cuts his eyes at me and then closes them with a sigh and a heavy groan. Unfortunately for me, the patch of shade he’s chosen is just big enough for a hundred-thirty pound bull mastiff and no bigger, so as I plead with him to get up, I’m standing in the afternoon sun with sweat running down my forehead and soaking my shirt. “Zeus!” My coaxing soon turns to whining. “Come on! Look, I promise you as soon as we get home, I’ll give you a big bowl of ice cream or something.”

  No dice, though. Zeus is not moving. And since he weighs as much as I do, I’m basically stuck here until he decides otherwise.

  My shirt is sticking to my skin now as I desperately try to think of some way to convince Zeus to move. I’m still trying in vain to talk him into getting up when I hear a car approaching. I look up to see a white Chevy SUV slow and pull over to the curb next to me. The passenger window rolls down, and I peer inside to see the amused face of my new next-door neighbor.

  “You need any help?” he calls.

  “No,” I reply curtly. “Zeus is just hot.”

  “Looks like he’s not the only one,” Knox says, giving me a pointed grin and nodding at my sweat-soaked shirt. He puts the SUV in park and opens the car door, and I suppress a groan of frustration.

  “I told you,” I repeat stubbornly. “I don’t need any help.”

  Knox comes up to stand beside me. He’s been in an air-conditioned car, and he looks cool and comfortable. He pulls off the aviator sunglasses he’s wearing to look at me. Up close, I notice that his eyes are deep blue around the outside, with flecks of gold toward the center. They’re sort of mesmerizing, and I have to blink twice to snap myself out of staring at them.

  “You sure he’s okay?” he’s asking me. “Big dog like him could get overheated pretty quick.”

  “We’ve only been out for five minutes,” I retort. I’m pissed now, thinking he’s implying I’ve been careless. “He’s just decided he’s done with the walk. I can’t get him to get up so I can take him home.”

  “Hey, Zeus,” he croons, leaning down to scruff the dog behind the ear and pat him on the neck. “How’s it goin’, buddy? You hot?”

  “He’s fine, really,” I repeat lamely.

  “You wanna get up, boy? You wanna get up so —“ he stops and glances up at me with a smirk. “You still committed to not tellin’ me your name?”

  Ugh. I want to refuse, but I know that’s childish. “Ivy,” I mutter, resisting the urge to pout.

  “Nice name,” he says mildly, his eyes locking on mine. Before I can answer, he turns back to Zeus. “You wanna get up so Miss Ivy can take you home?”

  As soon as Knox finishes his question, Zeus immediately lumbers to his feet, opening his mouth in a wide, drool-y doggy smile. Knocks chuckles and pats him on the back. “Good boy,” he says, and then looks at me. “There you go,” he says with a grin.

  “How did you do that?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

  “What can I say? I’m a dog whisperer.” One corner of his mouth goes up in a mocking smirk. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I don’t want to thank him, but I know I probably have to. “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  His eyes are still on me, but they slide now from my face downwards, taking in all of me. I’m acutely aware of how gross and sweaty I must look, and I have to stop myself from fleeing.

  “You look like you could use yourself a cold drink,” he says. “Or a cold shower.” His expression says he’s visualizing what the latter would look like. And since he has already seen me naked, he probably has a pretty good idea. My skin grows even hotter, and suddenly it feels like the temperature outside has gone up ten more degrees.

  “I have to get Zeus home now,” I stammer, and start walking away before he can say any more. “Thanks again.”

  My back is to him and I’ve put at least ten feet of distance between us when I hear him chuckle behind me.

  “Any time, darlin’. Any time.”

  His amused laughter rings in my ear, persistent as a memory.

  Traitor,” I murmur to Zeus under my breath as we head back home.

  4

  KNOX

  On the way back from grabbing some lunch for Matty and Pete, I spy the hot redhead standing on the sidewalk in the hot sun, looking overheated and frustrated. Lying on the ground in the shade is Zeus. The redhead shoots daggers at me when I stop the car and roll down my window, but I don’t let that stop me from getting out and making sure the pooch is okay.

  I swear she looked like she wanted to murder me when I convinced Zeus to get up. And it damn near killed her to thank me for it.

  Which made it ten times more fun.

  There’s just something about that girl. Ivy. Something that makes me feel like I’m eight years old and wanna pull her pigtails just to see her stomp her feet at me. She’s wound up tight as a rubber band, but something in the way her ass shimmies when she walks away from me tells me there’s a completely different g
irl underneath.

  And I’m hoping like hell to find out if I’m right.

  I eat lunch with Pete and Matty, and then help them unload the rest of the moving van in the afternoon. They keep telling me I don’t have to, that it’s their job. But I don’t have much else to do, and frankly it feels good to do some manual labor, even in this heat. We get done a little after five, and luckily I thought to get some beer while I was out buying lunch. So the three of us crack open a cold one and shoot the shit until it’s time for them to take the truck back for the day.

  “So, you’re really the new wide receiver for the Rockets?” Matty is asking. The two of them are sitting on the bed of the moving van and I’m leaning against a tree in my new front yard.

  “Yeah. Came here from Carolina.”

  “Oh, yeah, Knox Harper.” Pete starts nodding. “Yeah, I recognize your name now. Weren’t you the guy who caught the winning touchdown pass at the final game with Tennessee two years ago? Shit, man, that was a hell of a game.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, that was me. Good memory.”

  “It’s looking like the Rockets are shaping up to have a pretty good season this year,” Matty continues. “Your starting quarterback finished last season stronger than ever. Sounds like they made some good choices in the draft, too.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty excited to play for them,” I say, taking a pull of my beer. “Jake Ryland’s one of the best QBs in the league, if not the best. Their running game looked really good last year. I’m hoping to help them improve their passing game.”

  Pete and Matty both grab another beer from the six-pack, and I ask them about themselves. They’re both in their mid-twenties, born and raised in Springville. Pete just graduated from college with a degree in marketing communications, and he’s been working for this moving company while he looks for a full-time job doing that. Matty’s an elementary school teacher, and he does this job in the summers to make ends meet. Matty kind of reminds me of Chris, my best bud from high school. As I think about him now, a little twinge of sadness shoots through me, but I put it out of my mind and concentrate on the conversation.

  “Hey,” Pete changes the subject, nodding toward the condo. “That chick you’re gonna be living next door to is fuckin’ hot, man. Did you know her from before or something?”

  “What do you mean?” I frown.

  “Well, when you went into her place from the balcony, we heard her yelling and shit. Sounded like you were having a fight. Then, like, some glass broke or something? What was up with that?”

  “Nah. I never saw her before today. I guess I just have a talent for pissing off redheads.” I take another swig of my drink, thankful that I managed to keep these to guys from seeing Ivy naked. I almost laugh thinking about how pissed they’d probably be if they knew how close they came to getting a show.

  “Shit, I guess so,” Matty smirked. “Man, I dated a ginger chick once. It’s true what they say. They have tempers. But it’s fuckin’ worth it.”

  And just like that, the subject changes to redheads, and brunettes, and blondes, and the relative virtues of each.

  After we’ve polished off the six-pack, I tell Pete and Matty to hit me up sometime if they want to hang out. Then I head upstairs to start the process of unpacking my shit. When I glance over at Ivy’s front door, I happen to notice the mailbox hanging next to it. Moving closer, I peer at the names listed there.

  Names. Plural. Huh.

  I. Kincaide. F. Reynolds.

  So Ivy’s last name is Kincaide. I wonder what’s up with the second name. I sure as hell didn’t see anyone else when I was in there. I find myself hoping that this F. Reynolds is a roommate, and not a boyfriend or a husband, and try to ignore the fact that I’m just a little disappointed at the idea she could be in a relationship.

  As night falls, every once in a while I wander out to the balcony, just on the off chance I might run into Ivy, but the doors to her place stay locked up tight. I wonder if she’s avoiding me, and decide she probably is.

  That’s okay, I think.

  I’ve got time.

  In the night, I dream about Ivy.

  She knocks on my door one morning when I’m getting out of the shower. When I open it, she’s standing there, barely dressed in a tiny, almost see-through little white T-shirt and an impossibly small pair of cotton shorts. No bra, nothing at all to hide the fact of her slightly hardened nipples peeking out from the fabric at me. She’s holding a measuring cup and smiling provocatively.

  “I’m making cookies,” she says, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “And I completely ran out of sugar. You wouldn’t happen to have any sugar, would you?”

  She says sugar. But she clearly means something else. The way her chest is rapidly rising and falling tells me everything I need to know. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted in anticipation. She wants me. And fuck if I’d ever turn down an offer like this.

  I don’t even bother replying to the sugar question. Instead, I reach for her and pull her to me, my cock hard as fucking steel as I press it against her. Ivy moans, her eyes fluttering shut, and arches herself toward me so that her tits brush against my chest. Her lips are plump as ripe strawberries, just waiting for me, and I pick her up and press her against the wall as my mouth finds hers. Our tongues wind together, and she wraps her legs tight around me and begins to grind her pussy against my cock. It’s fucking incredible. I can already tell she’s going to be goddamn amazing in bed.

  There’s just one problem.

  Her breath is fucking awful.

  Like, freaking terrible. Like, “I don’t think I can do this” terrible. I don’t know what the hell to do. My hard-on is still raging, but I pull away from her kiss, trying to think of how I can salvage this. Can I ask her to brush her teeth or use some damn mouth wash before we take this any further? Can I subtly take this down a notch and casually offer her some peppermint candy? Can I…

  But before I can do anything, she leans up to me and fucking licks me. Right across my face. I rear back with a horrified grimace, and sputter, “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “Woof!” she says back. Then, “WOOF!” again, loudly enough that I start awake and come face to face with an enormous, slobbering, furry, mutt.

  Who’s grinning like hell at me, almost like he planned the whole thing.

  “Jesus,” I stammer as I sit up in bed and rake a hand through my hair. “Zeus, what the hell are you doing in here? How did you get in?”

  But of course, Zeus isn’t about to tell me anything. I swear again and look around, bleary-eyed. It’s morning, and my bedroom door is wide open instead of mostly closed like I usually keep it. Apparently my new canine neighbor is an expert at breaking and entering.

  I sigh and haul myself out of bed, then grab a pair of light sweat pants and pull them on. Thanks to Zeus, my morning wood has pretty much left the building, so I head to the bathroom, take a leak, and then come back to find that the dog has jumped up on my bed and made himself at home. He’s already lying there with his eyes closed, like this is his bedroom instead of mine.

  “Yeah, no, buddy, that’s not how this works,” I tell him. “Come on, let’s get you back to Ivy. She’s gonna be worried about you when she figures out you’re gone.”

  Luckily, Zeus seems pretty down with me, because he immediately gets off of the bed and follows me down the hall into the living room. The French doors that lead out onto our shared balcony are open, so I’m guessing that’s how Zeus got in here in the first place. I go out that way and click my tongue at Zeus to come with me. As I knock on Ivy’s door, my thoughts wander back to my dream, and I have to talk my cock out of hoping we’ll get a replay of yesterday.

  5

  IVY

  I’m foraging in the kitchen cabinets in vain for some sugar for my coffee when a knock on the French doors startles me so much it almost makes me drop the empty bag onto the floor.

  “Shit!” I squeak, jumping a little. I set down the bag next to my c
offee cup and briefly put my hand to my chest to calm my heart, which is hammering in my ribcage. There’s no question who’s on the other side of the door, of course. The only question is why the heck he’s bothering me first thing in the morning like this.

  Thankfully, I’ve already taken Zeus out on his morning walk, so I’m at least dressed this time. Taking a deep breath to push down the irritation I’m already feeling at being startled like that, I stride to the doors and turn the knob. “What do you want?” I challenge, even before I’ve even gotten them fully open.

  Standing on the other side, of course, is Knox, wearing nothing but that cocky smirk and a pair of light gray sweats.

  With Zeus, who is sitting shaggily beside him.

  “You happen to lose a dog?” he drawls.

  “What the —... Where was he?” I sputter.

  His grin gets even wider. “He decided to play alarm clock for me this morning.”

  I frown. “He got into your condo?”

  “Looks like it.” Knox reaches down and pats Zeus affectionately. “He somehow made it into my bedroom. Scared the hell out of me when he woke me up, didn’t you buddy?”

  I’m momentarily a little paralyzed. My brain is caught between trying to figure out how Zeus got out, imagining Knox sleeping in his bedroom, and ignoring the reality of him standing here right now, all muscles and hard abs. His body is… well, the only word that will come to my dizzy head is magnificent. He’s positively sculpted, and not in a pretty-boy way. He’s all hard strength and masculine grace. He makes me want to just watch him move. It’s all I can do not to just stare at even the most banal motions, like the way his pecs flex when he pets Zeus. I force my eyes away from his body and back to his face, shamefully aware that my skin feels all electric and there’s a growing heat between my legs.