Boxer Next Door
Page 2
We were watching some movie he’d been looking forward to for some time. I didn’t know much about it besides the vague summary, but it was PG, so I thought it would be okay.
“Are we ready for the movie yet?”
Bryson shot a quick glance at me. “Just a sec, Mom. I’m waiting for the internet to load.”
“Do you need help finding the movie?”
“Nah, Mom. I’m fine.”
I was a little skeptical, but sure enough, a minute later, the movie was starting. Bryson squirmed in excitement, before completely burying himself under the blanket, leaving only his head out.
“Mom, it’s starting!”
I chuckled at him. “I can see, honey.” I picked up the bowl and held it out to him. “Popcorn?”
He took a handful and started shoving the kernels into his mouth. His nose wrinkled a little, and he frowned at me. I knew what he wanted, and I shrugged.
“Sorry, kiddo, no butter. Promise I’ll have some for next time, though.”
He went back to staring at the TV, too excited to worry too much about it. As the starting credits went across the screen, Bryson moved, so he was leaning against me, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulder, setting the bowl of popcorn carefully on my lap. I stared down at it for a moment, knowing I really shouldn’t be eating any, even without the butter. I mentally shrugged and popped a few into my mouth.
It’s movie night with Bryson, it should be fine. I’ll just get in a few extra minutes of work out for the week.
After all, my body was no longer young.
I hugged my son to me, barely paying attention to the movie, and focused more on his glowing face, my lips turned up into a smile unconsciously.
For a while now, it had just been Bryson and me. There were times when it felt like it had been much longer, but more than a year ago, my husband had just up and disappeared from our lives without a word. Mike and I were, technically, already divorced by that point. But it didn’t stop me from thinking how much of a bastard he was. Even if he didn’t want to see me, the least he could have done was stick around to see his son.
When we all lived happily together, Bryson had been such a darling little boy. After the divorce and Mike’s disappearance, he’d turned moody and grown reserved. He was only just opening up to me again, and I couldn’t help but be glad.
Why did things turn out like this? I thought to myself in a moment of nostalgia.
Back then, my boy had had friends that he raved about hanging out with; he didn’t just lock himself up in his room to play video games and read comics. I knew from his teachers that he wasn’t pulling away from people anymore, but he didn’t play with his friends as often, and he didn’t insist on me letting him go to one of his friend’s places over the weekend like he used to. The one time I’d asked, his answer had been simple and made me want to cry.
“Because I’d rather spend more time with you.”
Sometimes I wondered if he was worried I would leave him the way his dad had. I would never do that, only I didn’t know quite how to tell him, especially since he didn’t like talking about his dad at all.
Bryson was like a little copy of me. Both Mike and I had dark hair, so we could both claim that addition to his genes, but he got his light gray eyes from me. Ever since his dad had left and he saw how much I was struggling for us on my own, he’d become my little helper. He helped me cook, helped me do chores. Before I had Julie helping out, he’d insisted at one point that I could leave him to get home and stay there on his own if it would make things easier for me. He was such a charming little boy, and for a month after the divorce, I’d cried for the both of us, that my little man would have to grow up without his father there for him.
He tried hard to act like it didn’t affect him, but I knew it did, and I did my absolute best, only for him.
The movie was halfway through when the doorbell rang. Bryson didn’t even bother looking up, not until I went to move away.
“Mom,” he whined, holding onto me. “It’s almost at the best part! You can't leave now.”
“But there’s someone at the door,” I replied, brushing off his hands so I could get up. “You can just tell me how it goes later, okay? With as much detail as you’d like.”
It was enough to placate him.
“Okay!” he chirped, turning back to the movie. He’d lost the smile, full concentration on his face.
I grinned to myself because I knew the concentration was because he didn’t want to miss anything so he could recount it all later perfectly. The doorbell rang again, and I hurried over to answer it.
I opened it, only to find the gorgeous new neighbor from next door.
2
Lydia
My breath caught in my chest, eyes widening in a moment of surprise.
Fuck.
He hadn't moved in that long ago. I’d never officially met him, but it had been a weekend when he moved in, so I was at home to notice all the commotion. I’d seen him around the place, through the windows as he fixed up the house, outside fixing a broken shutter, even out on the yard, blowing leaves into piles to be gathered.
Every time I saw him, he always looked busy. There were occasions where I’d called a hello over the fence or given a quick wave. He’d given a distracted hello and a wave back, and that was about as far as the interactions between us had gone.
So what was he doing on my doorstep?
Even though I knew better, I could feel my heart start to beat faster. My neighbor was a bit of a looker. Okay, that was understating it—the guy was very good-looking. If I had been several years younger, or he had been older, I might have found some courage to explore it. But he was too damn young for me.
And besides, after Mike and that heartbreak, I knew better.
“Hi,” my sexy neighbor said, giving me a bashful grin. “We’ve never talked before, but I live next door.”
I smiled back, hiding my initial surprise. “No, I know who you are. I’m just surprised to see you here, I guess. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was hoping there was something I could do for you.”
His answer left me confused. Before I could figure out what he meant, or just ask for it, he was holding his hand out to me, grinning.
“I’m Ken Davis,” he introduced. “And I am so sorry, but… I kinda knocked down the wooden privacy fence in your backyard,” he admitted sheepishly and hurried to add, “I swear it was a total accident. I was working out back and it just somehow happened. And I promise I will repair the fence, and I can pay you for damages to your yard.”
He stopped talking, and for a moment I didn’t know what to say. Mostly because I hadn't been listening to him.
Dammit. His eyes…
There was so much more about him that was good-looking than just his eyes. He had blond hair, he was tall and so fit; I was pretty sure Olympians would look at him and feel jealous. He’d obviously just come from work, dressed in a tank top covered with a light jacket and looking like he was sweating even in the cold weather we had. There was a hint of a tattoo at the top of his tank top, and I wished silently that it were just a little lower.
I’d never seen him this close, and I’d never had the chance to admire his eyes before. They were so green, beautiful, reminding me of a time when Mike, Bryson, and I went out to camp one summer. It was one of the last happy memories we’d had as a family and something precious to me. Looking into Ken’s eyes, I could hardly think.
I did clue into his words when I heard the words ‘fence’ and ‘knocked down.’ Then he was talking about repairing my fence, and I figured out what he’d come for.
“Oh,” I said after a long silence.
Ken’s eyebrows shot up like he’d expected more of a reaction, and I could feel my face warming. I cleared my throat and thought frantically for a minute.
“Um, I mean, it’s fine. The fence was old when my husband and I bought the place, anyway, years ago. So I’m not surprised it got knocke
d down easily. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it. You can just leave it, I’ll take care of it.”
I arched an eyebrow at him as he chuckled.
“I still feel responsible, though. It was, after all, my mistake that caused the damage. I don’t think I can just ignore it.”
His voice… it was so deep and smooth. Every time he chuckled, the sound sent a shiver up and down my spine. I could feel my body stirring with a desire I hadn't felt in a while, and if I weren't so fascinated by this guy, I would have panicked because of it.
I didn’t need to fall for a stranger, especially one as young this. I was a thirty-eight-year-old woman, and this kid didn’t look older than twenty-five! Feeling attracted towards him made me feel like I was robbing the cradle. He was a grown-up but just too damn young.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I said again, feeling a growing desperation I didn’t let out for him to see. My experience as a lawyer was coming in handy outside of work. “It’s a little late right now, and I don’t think anyone will be taking advantage of the broken fence too soon. I can look at it in the morning and think of what to do then. You don’t have to do anything.”
My treacherous mind was already arguing with me. I can pay for the damages, but I wouldn’t see him if I handled it myself! Let him work on it and fix it himself!
Now that I’d seen him this close, I was getting greedy. I could just picture it. Him working in my backyard with only a tank top on. The sun would be up, it wouldn’t be too hot, but he would be sweating from all the work he was putting in.
Just the image in my mind made me tremble.
“But I really wouldn’t feel okay just leaving it,” Ken insisted. “Old or not, your fence would still be standing if not for me. Let me help you out.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. There was no way I could let him. Even if I tried to keep myself away, the temptation would be too great. I’d never looked at another man since Mike and I got married and then had Bryson years later. I had large windows in my kitchen that showed a clear view of the backyard; there was no way I would pass up the chance to drool over such a fine male specimen.
Get it together!
Ken was stubborn. “If you won’t let me work on the fence,” he started slowly. “Then, I could fix anything else, whatever you want to take care of. Anything you need.”
Anything I need… my mind repeated.
I wondered if he was wording it intentionally, or if I’d become a pervy old woman. Here was a young man insisting on trying to offer me help, and my mind was jumping to dirty thoughts. His expression was so clear and earnest, but he had my thoughts rushing in another direction, thinking about what other less innocent situations he might have that look on his face.
My mind needed to get out of the gutter, I chided myself. But wait… did he just give me a once over? And was it my imagination, or did his voice just get a little bit deeper, smokier… I could have sworn…
I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind and smiled up at him.
“Yes, actually, I have noticed that you’re handy around a house. Your place was left alone for too long, and it was practically falling apart when you moved in. I’ve seen how you’ve changed it.”
Ken pursed his lips in thought, and my eyes unconsciously fell to them. My eyes rose up to meet his just as quickly, but I was sure he’d noticed. Damn it! I didn’t want him thinking badly of me. I gave him an uneasy smile that he returned with one of his own.
“At this point, I think you could say we’re at a stand-off,” he said, sounding amused, his smile crooked.
Fuck, his smile just got hotter. I smiled innocently up at him. “I guess you could say so. There is no need, but if you’re going to insist, I guess we can talk about it.”
He opened his mouth to say something when our conversation was interrupted by the sound of something blowing up. A squeal followed, and I looked into the living room. The angle wasn’t right to see much, but I’d just remembered my son wasn’t that far away, waiting for me so we could get back to our movie night.
Damn it. How could I forget?
That thought made me panic a little. No one was more important to me than my son was, not even this hot, new neighbor that was insistent on making himself useful to me.
As if to make sure I would go back, Bryson spoke up.
“Mom, get back here already! We’re almost at the best part of the movie!”
“I thought you hadn't watched this one before,” I called back, feeling amused.
“Mom,” he whined. “My friends already watched it! I asked them for some spoilers, and they told me something awesome happens when the explosions start! Hurry up!”
I chuckled at my son and his excitement, before turning back to my guest. His eyes were aimed inside, a look of curiosity on his face. I wondered if he’d ever seen Bryson, though he’d probably heard him. My kid didn’t like staying too quiet.
“I have to go now,” I said to Ken. “I’m watching some movies with my son, and I’ve already missed a part of it. I should probably get over there before he comes for me.”
I didn’t need Bryson to see him at my doorstep and wonder why he was there. Or worse yet, invite him in to enjoy movie night with us, because my son was polite like that.
Ken nodded. “I figured. But I don’t feel right just leaving things as they are, either.”
I sighed through my nose, puffing my cheeks up a little bit. “Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow, then?” I offered. “I’m not going anywhere for the day. I’ll be awake by around nine or ten, and we can decide what to do?”
He offered me another grin, this one larger and brighter than the ones that had come before it. “Sure. Oh, and you never did introduce yourself…”
I blinked, then felt my face warm up again. “Oh! My name is Lydia. It’s nice to meet you, Ken.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said, and I thought his voice was just a little lower.
I waved at him and waited for him to leave before I went back inside and moved over to Bryson.
His eyes had looked down at me, I thought, a little giddily. His eyes had, very obviously, lingered on my chest in that short time before he turned away. I’d been looking closely, and I knew I hadn't imagined it. I should probably be offended, but I couldn’t help but be thrilled.
Does that mean he thinks I’m hot?
I knew I shouldn’t be letting myself get carried away. It wasn’t like anything would happen between us. I’d already made that much clear to myself. It just wasn’t practical. But it was an enormous boost to my ego to know that someone that young and attractive could look at me with desire. Juggling between a demanding job and looking after my son had left me feeling older than my years, and I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I curled back into the couch with Bryson.
The feeling was too much to keep to myself. I picked up my phone from where I’d left it, biting on my lower lip.
I’ve still got it, I thought to myself, sending a quick text to my friend Annara.
Her reply was back in a moment, and I put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t do something embarrassing like squeal.
Yes, honey, you still do.
3
Kenji
I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
Fuck. Too much work to do.
I didn’t mind it, if I was honest with myself, I was kind of loving it. A lot of work kept my muscles from going soft, and I wasn’t a slave to my own thoughts, either.
It just felt too much like I was trying to hide.
The whole move, making myself busy so I had no time to try and contact my parents. Not that it was an easy thing to do.
My parents were… I couldn’t say I hated them, exactly. They still raised me and took care of me, even if the standards weren’t quite up to what I would have liked. Because of them, I hated my own name. Well, it’s more because of all the teasing I got for it, but I still hated it. My name was Kenji, I knew full w
ell it was a Japanese name, and people in school had given me shit for it. My parents, the carefree people that they were, told me not to care about other people and embrace my name. I wanted to go by Ken, but they insisted on calling me by my full name.
That made it hard for me, because it was hard to get everyone to forget my full name if my own parents spewed it everywhere.
It was a hard decision, to move to a new town, to this broken-down house that I knew I’d have to fix up. I’d bought it pretty cheap, and I had dumped almost all of my savings on it. But I wasn’t just running from my parents, I was also running from an ex.
When I met her, I thought she was the best thing ever. For a long time, I thought she was the love of my life, and I thought she felt the same. She was nice, gentle, and beautiful. She knew my real name and made fun of me a couple times, but I knew it wasn’t meant to hurt, and she called me Ken when I insisted. We’d had plans of moving in together and starting up a family, one that would be entirely different from what I was subjected to for most of my life.
But it wasn’t meant to be. Because I found out that she didn’t think the same as I did, no matter what she’d said to my face. She might have told me she wanted a family with me, but she had a pretty healthy nightlife. She said she would settle down, but she couldn’t settle down with one man. I didn’t even know how many men besides me she’d actually been with. I’d chosen to walk away instead of asking for an explanation, because her carefree attitude reminded me so much of my parents.
Ah, my parents. If it wasn’t so rude of me, I would call them the bane of my existence. They never cheated on each other, but they had other shortcomings I couldn’t help but be critical of as I grew up in a public school environment, getting to see just how different my family was from the norm.
I loved my parents, but they just never understood the real world, and they didn’t want to understand it. They were what most people would call hippies. Because of their beliefs, I was subjected to a lot of ridicule, and in my earlier years, we had to travel a lot. I didn’t know just how different my family was at first, because I didn’t join public school until my parents decided to settle when I was seven. Before that, I was homeschooled, if you could even call it that.