Big Bad Neighbor: A Single Dad Next Door Romance

by Tia Siren

  Once we were back in the truck, he started leaning towards me, begging for a kiss. I met his lips with my fingers.

  “Don’t confuse a caring friend with a lover, Chris. Let’s just get back to town,” I said.

  He let out another long sigh as he started the car. We pulled away and rumbled down the road in utter silence. Both of us were trapped inside our heads.

  I wondered if I was handling everything the way I should be. I almost never thought of Brad while Chris and I were together, maybe that was a good thing. He was still a massive womanizer, though, and he hadn’t shown any sign of change in the slightest. I really didn’t want to get involved.

  He dropped me off in front of my apartment again.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said.

  “Lucy,” he said.

  “What’s up,” I asked.

  “Would you come to my next game, tomorrow night?” he requested.

  “Or course, I’d be happy to cheer you on,” I said with a smile.

  He smiled back at me as I shut the door. With that, he sped off down the road.

  6.

  “Something was left for you, Lucy,” Tiffany said.

  At least, she was wearing pants, this time; I thought to myself.

  She gestured towards a bundle of flowers that were laid out on the table. A card was tucked between a couple of them, which I promptly pulled free and examined.

  ‘To Lucy, in the hopes that she might be willing to forgive me. Love: Brad.”

  They were quite nice; I always did have a thing for lilies.

  I had spent so much time avoiding Brad, and I was finally starting to come to my senses. He did deserve a chance to explain himself. But, I had no intention to let him back into my life.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed my old flame.

  “Okay, Brad. Let’s meet up and talk. You deserve that much,” I said to him over the phone.

  “You won’t regret this, Lucy. I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said, hanging up the phone.

  I paused after he ended the call. I forgot, during out small conversation, that I had already made plans for Friday night. I immediately called Brad back.

  “Brad, I can’t do tomorrow night,” I said.

  “Don’t you want to get together and hash this out, though? Wouldn’t sooner be better than later?”

  “It would be, but I have plans for tomorrow night,” I said.

  He scoffed over the phone.

  “Then let’s get together in the early evening, you’ll still have your night free for your date, or whatever it is,” He replied.

  “Fine,” I said.

  I didn’t know what a terrible idea it was until I showed up the next evening. He wore his best clothes, and I had a feeling he thought this had the possibility of becoming a date.

  I wore something simple but warm since I’d be at the game later. I wanted to be anywhere, but here, just the sight of his face was making my stomach churn.

  “Hey Lucy,” he said.

  I nodded my hello and sat down at the table. We had decided to meet at one of our old date night locations, which was a really bad idea. The nights we spent just sitting around drinking coffee, working on homework, and trying to avoid starvation; those memories all started flooding back, and I felt trapped.

  “Can I start,” he said.

  I nodded another yes.

  “That girl didn’t mean anything to me,” he said.

  “Then why were you sleeping with her,” I asked.

  “I was having a moment of weakness. I’m only human, after all,” he said.

  “Then as a human, you should learn to deal with the consequences,” I replied.

  “Are you really going to play that ‘holier than thou’ card?” he asked, in a bit of rage.

  “What are you trying to say, Brad,” I asked, calmly.

  “You slept with that man-whore Chris the same night you ran off,” he said, “don’t say you didn’t. Do you know how that makes me feel? Watching the person, I love sleep with some guy that isn’t even interested in her at all?”

  I laughed; it was almost unbearable to listen to.

  “You really are something else,” I said, “you accuse me of sleeping around after you I catch you in the act. I’m amazed I stayed with you as long as I did. I even have a feeling that she wasn’t the first person you were sleeping with behind my back.”

  He leaned over the table and stole a kiss. I went to push him away, but he pulled me in tightly. It took a second before I managed to pry his face off mine, and I knew then, and there this would be the last time I would see him.

  I shot from my seat, narrowly avoiding his searching arms trying to get a hold of me again.

  “Goodbye, Brad,” I said.

  I started walking towards the exit but turned just before I did.

  “I don’t regret it when I say that Chris is and always will be a better man than you because at least he knows what he is. He doesn’t slink around pretending to be something he isn’t.

  “Don’t call me, because I won’t call you.”

  I walked out of the restaurant, somehow feeling a sense of finality. It was the closure that I was lacking from our previous encounter. I wanted to go back in there and swear at him for another hour. I wanted to scream until my lungs belted fire. I wanted to do so many things that I knew would be bad for me. So, instead, I went to the game.

  7.

  Tiffany and I sat behind the team, just a few rows back. I hadn’t really gone to any sporting events this season. The games rarely held my interest for long.

  Still, I wanted to cheer Chris on; he needed more cheerleaders in his corner. I knew what he was trying to achieve; he was just like me. He wanted to follow his dreams and become a pro player. I just wanted to find a dream to follow.

  He turned back a few times during the game and made eye contact. His expression remained mostly jovial with his fellow players.

  “He’s acting different,” Tiffany said.

  “How so,” I asked.

  “I haven’t seen him so talkative with his teammates. He’s usually a guy that keeps his head in the game until it’s over.”

  She would know; she was probably one of his biggest fans.

  “I wonder what’s gotten into him,” she asked.

  Our team, led by Chris, crushed the other team. I cheered until I could barely speak.

  The field started clearing out, Chris didn’t head to the lockers with the team. He waited on the bench, deep in thought.

  I waited in the stands; Tiffany decided to head home for the night, and I told her I’d manage a way home myself, later. All that remained were a few staff members cleaning, me, and Chris.

  I walked down to the field to join him, but he was pulled aside by the coach before I could catch up. I managed to just barely overhear their conversation.

  “They were impressed tonight,” he said.

  “Yeah? I thought I’d rely more on my team than try to win it by myself,” Chris replied.

  “They’re still a little slow to decide, but they said that it looks promising. I’ll keep my ear to the ground for you,” the coach said.

  “Thanks,” Chris said.

  “Get out there and party, tonight. You earned this one,” the coach slapped him hard in the arm and walked off toward the locker room.

  Chris snatched his helmet from the bench then looked over at me. He almost looked a little disgusted, but I couldn’t tell.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Did you enjoy the game,” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “you looked really good, and it sounds like those scouts liked you a little better this week, too.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited.”

  I laughed and walked over to join him.

  I wrapped my arms around him, giving him another big hug.

  “Are you sure Brad won’t get jealous,” he asked.

  “Why would Brad be jealous,” I questioned.

&nbs
p; “I saw you guys at the restaurant earlier. I saw you guys making out.” Chris said.

  I wanted to laugh but stifled it as best I could.

  “Brad ambushed me with a kiss,” I said, “I wish I hadn’t even gone to meet up with him.”

  “I was hoping that I’d get to talk to you before the game,” Chris said.

  “What about,” I asked.

  “I have started to see things in a much different light, since the other day. I’ve tried to do everything alone, and I had it handled until I met you.” He said.

  “What are you trying to say,” I asked.

  “I’m saying that my outlook has changed. I don’t want to sleep around with a bunch of girls; that part of me has died over the last week. I’ve had a lot of offers, believe me.”

  I laughed at the idea of him turning down sex. He joined in and pulled me in for a hug.

  “I want someone who’ll be there when I’m sad, someone who will cozy up with me and watch TV on a boring night. I think I just want someone I can go home to. And, I was hoping it would be you.”

  I could feel tears begin to well up behind my eyes. He was baring his soul to me, and it was hard to deny him. I pressed my head to his chest and pulled him in tight.

  “Would you like to go out on a date with me? It’ll be my first,” he asked.

  I pulled myself away.

  “Sure, but, this time, I get to take you to my favorite spot,” I replied.

  He threw his arm around me and we walked off the field, together.

  We had each other, and that was more than either of us needed.

  *****

  THE END

  More Than a Game

  “Grades matter, they matter a lot. I worked harder than anyone else to get here, and I have the report cards to prove it. The lowest grade I had was an ‘A-‘, and that was because the teacher hated me. It’s a black spot on an otherwise spotless record. I don’t want another black spot. It would make all the effort I put into getting into this college moot.”

  “What was your name, again?”

  “You know me, Coach, I’m Christine. I’m in your athletics course on Monday, and Wednesday at 9 am. I noticed that my grades had dipped into the ‘B’ level and wanted to know what I could do to improve my grade. I need to get an ‘A’ in this course, or I may not be able to transfer to a graduate degree program.”

  The coach rolled his eyes at me; I’d seen it happen before and was quite use to it at this point. His old leather chair was a bit worse for the wear, more duct tape than chair it would seem, and his hand grasped at what I could only assume was a playbook.

  “Are you telling me to change your grade to an ‘A’ because you asked me to?”

  “No, I want to know if there’s anything I can do to improve it. I have looked through your syllabus and have recorded my performance.”

  I produced a notebook that I had kept through the entire course. I recorded my athletic improvements including my jogging speed, blood pressure, and several other factors that I felt would prove my point.

  He took the book and flipped through the pages.

  “Are you serious?”

  I pushed my glasses from the tip of my nose.

  “I assure you, I’m quite serious. I believe I’m showing major cardiovascular improvement in the class, but if my own improvement isn’t enough to sway your grading scale then I would like to know what may?”

  He threw the notebook back on the desk; I felt he may be impressed by my research. He rolled his chair to a filing cabinet behind him and thumbed through the files for a minute.

  “What’s your last name again?”

  “Reynolds. Christine Reynolds.”

  He pulled a folder from the cabinet and pulled a few papers from it.

  “Have a look for yourself; it shouldn’t be hard to figure out why you have a ‘B.'”

  I took the papers from him and started to read. All the categories had numbers and checks except for one; participation.

  “Is this saying that I don’t participate in class?”

  “That’s to say that you never engage your peers. It’s a class. I may be your teacher, but you’re actively choosing to play by yourself. You seem to go out of your way to avoid the other students.”

  I scoffed. “I participate in the class activities. Isn’t that enough?”

  He stood himself up and came over and leaned on the desk in front of me, snatching the papers out of my hands.

  “School is about more than accomplishing the task at hand. I like to think that my class also teaches students how to handle situations in life that may be overwhelming. You have to know when to ask for help and know how to help others. It’s part of being human. Self-reliance is a great asset, but being a team player is what most sports and athletics are about.”

  I sighed and stood up.

  “So you’re saying all I have to do is engage with the other students, and I’ll get an ‘A’?”

  “Yep, that’s all I’m saying.”

  I gathered my things, including my athletic journal.

  “Then that’s what I’ll do,” I said as I made my way toward the door.

  He smiled and nodded.

  As I grasped the handle, the door tore open, pulling me along with it and causing me to collide with the person on the other side.

  My face was jarred so hard that my glasses flew from my face and fell to the floor. The world became blurry as I did my best to focus my eyes to make sense of what I was seeing and possibly find my glasses.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  I could feel my glasses being thrust into my hand, which I gladly took and replaced. In my panic to find my glasses I hadn’t realized the person whom I had struck; it was Hollis.

  “Hollis?” I questioned, meekly.

  He didn’t even say anything, just pushed past me into the room and shook the coach’s hand.

  “How’s the arm?” said the coach.

  “It’s doing well. I iced it for a while, and it hasn’t swelled much.”

  “Good, good. We got a career making game coming up, and I want you ready for it.”

  Hollis looked pleased.

  “Alright, I’ll just be going now,” I said.

  Neither of them acknowledged me, but I couldn’t help but take a quick look at our local football star now that he was so close.

  I felt so tiny by comparison; he was more than a foot taller than I was, and I was almost 5’7”, which according to statistics is above average for a woman. Strong, sinewy muscle ran up and down his arms and back, pushing through his shirt in all the right places. I admit it, I was swooning.

  I felt a bit feverish as my pulse quickened a bit. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I had a feeling that I should lie down. I left the room, closing the door quietly behind me as the two bonded and talked about the upcoming game.

  My thoughts were hard to sway from the thought of Hollis’ physique, but the anxiety over my grade was helping. If he wanted a girl who would participate in class, then that’s exactly what I would do.

  2.

  The morning was chilly before class; so I thought it best to bundle up. I had always liked running; it was the easiest way to settle my mind before starting my day. Even so, I hated having to wear contacts to enjoy a calming run. But, some things are necessary evils, so I pushed the horrendous things to my eyes.

  It showed that I liked to run, and I received compliments all the time about my skinny arms and toned legs. It’s nice to feel like you’re doing something right, and compliments are a great measure. It was like getting an ‘A’ in personal health.

  I popped my headphones in my ear and grabbed my room keys. It was nice living alone, fewer people to deal with, less drama to get involved in, and more time for me to get work done.

  I lived near the track, which was actually a premeditated measure on my part as I knew I would be jogging almost daily. As I stepped out onto the street, the cool air struck me hard. It stung my nostrils and
burned my lungs as I breathed.

  A light fog had accrued over the night, instilling a silence on the block. Statistically speaking I had less a chance of being attacked in the morning during daylight, but that did little to dissuade me from looking over my shoulder every few steps.

  Across the street, the track was mostly empty, save for a few people that I didn’t recognize throwing footballs around. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen them in the morning. Dedicated players practiced anytime they could.

  The music in my ears picked up a bit, and I started to hit my stride. I had been in track in high school, and I was actually quite decent in distant running, I had the medals to prove it.

  As I rounded the corner of the track, I saw him again. Hollis had decided to practice early today. I tried my best to suppress a blush, but most of my energy was being used for running. So, I just smiled and waved.

  He smiled but kept walking.

  The guys had joined into a circle near the edge of the track, and it looked like they were discussing something important, so I lowered the volume on my music so I might listen in. Their words rang out as little pricks of sound in an otherwise empty space, and I could hear just about everything.

  “Coach says I gotta get my grade up, or I might be benched,” Hollis said.

  “Dude, you need to play. If you’re not there, then we’re goin’ to get killed. The second string doesn’t have the same arm you have.”

  “Yeah man, I’m working on it. I was up late last night trying to finish up this math for extra credit. But, it was hard since Sandy was over. I maybe work on it for ten minutes before she was all over me.”

  “You with Sandy now? What is that, three girls this weekend?”

  “I don’t know if I’d count the other two. Beth was amazing, we had this hot moment when I had to hide her under the desk. I was trying to talk to Gus, and she started going down on me while I was talking. After that, she had to split. I wouldn’t count Angie either; she kept asking me if I liked what she was doing and it was just weird. Sandy was crazy, and kept me up all night.”

  I started running a little quicker; I felt a little angry and more than a little jealous. I was much more upset at myself for feeling jealous of a couple cheerleaders. They spend all day around football players; I think they get become cheerleaders just so they can flirt. I couldn’t picture myself as that kind of girl.