by Lisa Olsen
“Hey, I know that guy,” Cady realized suddenly. “He’s not homeless, he’s my neighbor.”
“He’s not that bad,” Penny allowed, taking a deeper look. “His eyes are pretty.”
“He needs a makeover, STAT,” Kelli speculated, taking a long drink. “I think you should be the one to give it to him, Cady.”
“I don’t think he’s interested in a makeover,” she snorted, continuing to watch the man. His gaze slid over to their table and then quickly flicked away. Had he heard them? Not a chance over the din of the music, Cady decided.
“You should go talk to him,” Penny nodded encouragingly. “He’s your neighbor, that makes him safe.”
Cady wasn’t sure she followed the logic in that, but before she could reply, Kelli laid a hand on her arm.
“No, hold everything, take a look at this guy.” Kelli smiled over the rim of her glass at a guy on the dance floor, wildly gyrating his hips in her direction. “That is the kind of guy who could curl your toes. Go talk to him instead.”
Ick. “You know what, I think you’re right.” Cady pushed herself up from the table. “I should go talk to him.”
“Really?” They blinked in unison.
“Sure, it would be the neighborly thing to do.”
