I groan. She didn’t just say that, did she? “No.”
Sierra turns her head to the side and scrunches her eyebrows. “You don’t get it?”
“No. I do. I’m saying no. We aren’t calling us Sack. First of all, we aren’t a couple. You have a boyfriend, remember?”
“And if I didn’t you’d be trying to get into my pants,” she interrupts, nodding her head like she knows everything. She catches a little bit of caramel with her tongue that’s about to drip down the side of her cone and I can’t stop staring.
“Second of all,” I continue because if I don’t keep talking, I’ll want to do something else with my mouth. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Only nerds do the whole combining of the names thing.”
Her expression tells me she’s amused but horrified. Her dark hair swishes around her when she shakes her head, disagreeing with me while smiling wide. “Not true.”
“It is, too. And, third, we’re barely friends. Even if it wasn’t ridiculous to combine names, we aren’t in a place where we’d do it yet.”
“Also not true. We’re practically best friends.”
I can’t help but tease her. “You don’t have many friends, do you?”
“Actually, no.” Her face falls and I feel like shit for joking around with her.
I wipe my mouth with a paper napkin and crumble it before keeping it in my fist. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
As quickly as the pain was there, it’s wiped away. Replaced with “Relax, Jack. I can honestly say I don’t have a lot of friends but that’s because I have major trust issues. I am very selective with who I spend my time with. So, yeah, you should consider yourself very fortunate that I’m picking you.”
I finish up the last of my ice cream and she pouts when she realizes she’s definitely not going to get her way and have some of mine as well. I give her a wide grin and she rolls her eyes. “Jerk.”
“No apologies when it comes to any kind of dessert.”
“Hard core.”
I stand up and throw away my napkins and walk over to the area where they have paper cups next to a water jug and fill one up for each of us, setting one down in front of her before sitting back down.
“Thank you.” She takes a drink.
“Welcome.”
It doesn’t take her long to finish up the last of her treat before sitting back in her seat and groaning like she’s full. “Damn, that was good. It’s a good thing I don’t live here. I could easily — and happily — gain a hundred pounds just eating this every day.”
The corner of my mouth ticks up. “Well, I do actually have a lot to do today. Like go back to work.”
“Boring.”
“And I have some errands I should probably run.”
“Errands?” She perks up and sits up taller in her seat. “I like errands.”
“No one likes errands.”
She actually points to her chest when she exclaims, “I do! Seriously!”
I chuckle, shaking my head and give her a look. “You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”
“Probably. It’s kind of intriguing, right?” She agrees by giving me an exaggerated wink.
“In an annoying way, yes.”
Those beautiful dark eyes roll again. “That’s what they all say. But honestly, Jack, life is way too short to spend it being bored. It’s way more fun to spice things up a bit and enjoy the ride. Come on. Let me go on errands with you, Jacky poo.”
“Nope.”
“I can’t come?”
“No, against my better judgement, you can come along. But the nope is for the nickname. Hell no to the Jacky poo.”
“But it got you to agree to me tagging along, now, didn’t it?”
Check and mate. She’s really something else.
She grins, knowing she just won, like the cat that just got her cream. “Where to first?”
CHAPTER FOUR
JACK
Unknown: So last night was…
I groan, hardly believing this is happening. Again. Or, rather, continuing to happen. I’d hoped after this guy realized I knew what he was up to that he’d stop the insanity.
Me: Was?
I prompt the question, not knowing whether or not I really want to see the response. But old habits die hard.
Unknown: You were there. Don’t you remember what you said? It was… Incredible. Now that I think of it… Life altering? Is that possible?
Unknown: Oh, darn. I sound really crazy. I promise I wasn’t sitting there memorizing everything.
Me: I assure you, you don’t sound crazy.
Unknown: Phew. **wipes brow
I bark out a laugh and toss my phone on my desk. I wasn’t lying when I said she didn’t sound crazy. If she only knew how many others have sounded — or looked — crazier, she’d likely feel relief. I’m going to have to change my number if he doesn’t stop giving it out to every woman he spends time with.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I sigh and think back to yesterday. Sierra is a force to be reckoned with and the only fault I can find in her is that she’s taken. Her uncle said she was here for a reason, alluding to the fact that she’s going through something, but for the life of me, I can’t think of what it could be. She seems genuinely happy and never once through the entire day that we spent together did I get the impression that she was battling anything other than a bit of sanity.
I can’t help but smile at the last thought. She’s not insane, but she is. In the endearing way. Is there a way to be endearingly insane? Apparently so, because she is. In the way that makes people want to be around her. Want to be a little crazy as well. She brings a certain something to life that only people truly confident in themselves can bring. And unless you’re lucky enough to be around her, spend time with her, you’ll never realize it — she — was missing in your own life.
Sierra stood in line with me at the post office as I waited to send my boxes of gifts for my cousins’ kids for their birthdays that are only a few weeks apart. Joined me when I walked into the local auto parts store to get oil and a filter so I can change the oil in my Jeep, which she demanded to watch me do tonight. Begged for burgers and fries for lunch and poked me in the stomach to remind me that I could afford to have a day of crappy eating.
Followed me around the large home improvement store three towns over while I priced flooring and showers for my bathroom remodel. Not once did she complain that it was taking forever or that it was boring even though I was only taking down prices and options so I could compare to other stores.
In fact, it seemed like she was enjoying herself. Walking ahead of me most the time, offering up her (completely unsolicited) opinion on everything I looked at.
“Well, if it were me…”
“Well, it isn’t so…”
She rolls her eyes, not caring that I’m not asking her opinion.
“Oh! This would be perfect!” She coos in front of a shower before climbing inside and spinning around. “Wouldn’t it? Seriously, it’s the perfect shower! And with one of those shower heads that rains down from above? Ahh. I can practically feel how relaxing it would be. You have to get it, Jack. You have to.”
I shake my head at her theatrics but grin just the same. “You have no idea what my house looks like,” I remind her.
She shrugs and bites her lip, looking around the small space of the tiled shower. “I have a good imagination. Just look! Room for more!” She yanks me into the shower with her but I quickly make my escape. No way do I need to be thinking of showering with her. She pouts and tells me I’m no fun but I don’t respond. She’s taken. She’s taken. She’s taken. I repeat it to myself as much as I need to because she’s getting under my skin, and quickly.
After two hours of going through the entire store three times, I had all my prices written down and she was ready to pull the trigger on about three grand worth of home improvement items. Very few of which were needed for my bathroom remodel.
Sierra p
outed playfully as we drove away, whimpering and placing a hand on her window. I laughed at her and told her she was ridiculous. She laughed right along with me and agreed, making sure I knew she was joking, as if I couldn’t tell. I rolled my eyes. Then she said she was hungry and wanted pasta for dinner. I have no idea where she put all the food she ate throughout the day. I think her plan was to make me eat every kind of junk food I’d been depriving myself of for the past two years, not even knowing that I’d been doing it. Today I keep waiting for my stomach to revolt against the drastic change in my diet. Before I dropped her off at her car, she followed me around the grocery store at the end of the day, throwing stuff into my cart that I haven’t purchased in longer than I can remember but somehow knew I wanted.
She’s quickly reminding me that life is way too short to be so concerned with counting calories and spending a day running errands that I’d been putting off for too long can actually be fun if you change your mindset.
Yet I need the reminder that she’s in a relationship and she doesn’t live around here. In fact, I don’t even know where she lives. We have talked very little about her, only getting to know each other on the surface level. But what I see on the surface makes me jealous of whoever it is who gets to claim her as his.
Phone buzzing again, I groan and pray it’s not another text from this guy’s latest.
Unknown: So I have a weird question…
Me: Wow. That’s never a good way to start a conversation.
Unknown: I know. I know. But indulge me.
Me: I thought I did last night.
Unknown: Ha. Ha. Ha.
The corner of my mouth ticks up, enjoying this a little too much. I should learn my lesson. Let her know. But, I can’t help myself. It’s fun, chatting it up with these women and hearing what their reactions are the morning after.
Me: What’s the question?
Unknown: There’s been talk.
Me: Talk?
Unknown: Talk that you’re not really you.
I wince, type away my response, and wait for the shit to inevitably hit the fan.
Me: Oh, yeah? Where’d you hear that?
Unknown: Around.
Wow, that’s telling.
Me: And what did you hear from Around?
Unknown: That you’re actually someone else entirely. Not the guy I spent last night with.
Me: Really? That’s weird.
Unknown: Is it true?
Me: Uh, hmm. I’m not sure.
Unknown: Lol I take it yes, it’s true.
Me: Affirmative.
Unknown: I can’t believe this! What an ass!
I’m nodding as I type out my reply.
Me: Yeah, he kind of is.
Unknown: I meant you, you… you… ass!
Me: Me? What the hell did I do?
Unknown: You let me believe you were him!
Me: Hey, I was just trying to be nice. Do you realize how many of these texts I’ve received?
Unknown: Ouch. Clearly we’re no longer trying to be nice.
Me: Sorry. Truth hurts?
Unknown: Kind of does, actually. I thought he and I had a good time. I mean, it wasn’t life altering… that was me testing you.
Me: Sure. Whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.
Unknown: YOU DON’T KNOW ME! LOL
Me: Haha true. Sorry?
Unknown: Right. Somehow I don’t think you’re all that sorry.
I blow out a frustrated breath. How do I get myself out of this situation? The one I never asked to be in in the first place?
Me: You know what? I’m not. I’ve been getting these messages for weeks now and I’m trying my best to be the nice guy. To be the opposite of the guy you slept with last night.
Unknown: Hey!
Me: Like I said, the truth hurts. I’m sorry that I didn’t immediately tell you that you had the wrong number or that the guy you were with last night who you had life altering sex with did to you the exact same thing he’s done to twenty other women.
Unknown: Whoa. Please tell me you’re joking.
Me: Nope. I’m his number neighbor. Lucky me.
Unknown: Number neighbor? That crap is still going on?
Me: Apparently.
Unknown: Well, this has been fun.
Me: Yup. I’m skipping from all the excitement.
Unknown: You’re funny.
Me: That I am.
Unknown: And humble.
Me: That, too.
Unknown: And a man of many words.
Unknown: Wait, you are a guy, right?
Me: Would it matter if I wasn’t?
Unknown: Guess not.
Me: Well, as you mentioned above, this has been fun, but I gotta get back to work.
Unknown: Sorry.
Me: Why are you apologizing?
Unknown: Bad habit.
Me: It’s okay. Have a good day, Twenty.
Unknown: **groans I don’t even want to know why you just called me Twenty.
Me: Probably not.
I drop my phone again and debate whether or not to text the guy responsible for my current hell or just let it continue.
“Whoa. What’s wrong with you?”
My head jerks up at the sound of my dad’s voice and despite my irritation, I smile. Dad strides into my office, black ball cap pulled low on his head, black puffy vest over a dark gray long sleeve Henley that covers his tattoo-covered arms, worn jeans, and work boots. I round the corner of my desk and he pulls me in for a hug. It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other, which is weird for us because we usually spend a lot of time together.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I need an excuse to see my favorite son?”
“I’m telling Lily’s husband you said that,” I tease, slapping him on the back as I pull out of his arms. His daughter Lily got married to a great guy and my parents took Drew in like he was their own. Just like he did with me. Drew grew up in foster homes, and has no family of his own which meant that when he and my stepsister got together my parents only stepped up their pushiness into his life. In the nicest way possible, of course. They made sure he knew how welcome he was in our family.
Dad takes a seat across from my desk and I walk over to my mini-fridge, pull out two bottles of water, and hand him one before sitting down.
“Thanks,” he says, taking a drink. “So… you threw your phone down like it was offending you. What’s up?”
I groan and drop my head, not wanting to get into it. Or rather, not wanting to hear a lecture from him about how I should have put a stop to this a long time ago or the fact that I should have never talked to these women the way I did.
“That bad, huh?”
“Probably worse,” I admit. “I managed to somehow get myself mixed up in a problem that I don’t know how to get out of.”
His eyes widen. “Am I going to be a grandpa?”
My lips split into a small grin. “Nope.”
“Damn.”
“Dad! I’m not even seeing anyone.” I chuckle.
He shrugs. “Hey, can you blame me?”
“Uh, yeah?”
We both laugh this time because I know he’s kidding. Not that he doesn’t want to be a grandpa at some point in his life.
“So tell me what your phone did to you.”
“It’s not my phone… it’s my number neighbor.”
“I’ve heard the term,” he says, nodding knowingly.
“Some ass has been using my number to hand out to all of his one-night stands.”
He pulls a face and curls his lip. “Well, that’s… gross.”
Gross. That’s one way of putting it.
“So, how many texts and calls have you been receiving?”
“Calls? None. Texts? Enough to consider changing my number.”
He hisses, sucking in air through his teeth and settling deeper into the chair, lifting a booted foot to settle across his knee. “Sounds like fun. I take
it the messages you’ve been receiving haven’t been pleasant?”
I feel my cheeks heat like I just got caught making out in my bedroom with my girlfriend in high school. Dad notices, of course, and settles in like he’s about to be told a story. “I have a feeling this is going to be good.”
“Let’s just say I’ve seen some things I can’t unsee.”
“Oh, boy, that’s not good.” And by the face he’s pulling, I know he means it. He isn’t the kind of man who would reach over and hope to get a glimpse at whatever I can’t un-see. He’s a man of integrity and one who would sooner cut off an arm than disrespect my mother in any way. It’s one of the reasons I was proud and honored to take his last name at seventeen years old. My biological father certainly didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah. It’s been a little obnoxious.”
“By your reaction, I’d say it’s more than a little.”
“It is but… things are complicated.” Wincing, I admit, “Well, word is getting out.”
“About?”
“The fact that I’m not who these women think they’re messaging.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
I blow out a breath and look at him, look away, look back to Dad who raises an eyebrow at my clear avoidance.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been talking to some of them rather than telling them up front that they have the wrong number.”
“Talking?”
“I felt bad,” I explain, hoping that will be enough. But he simply raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms across his chest. “Fine. I was bored, really, and didn’t see any harm. Rather than being honest with them, I would talk to them a day or two and let them down later.”
“Jack…” he warns and I raise a hand to stop him from saying anything further.
“I know, Dad. But some of these women seemed so hopeful when they texted him and I didn’t have the heart to tell them what a jerk they’d spent the night with.” I drop my face into my hands and groan when my phone buzzes again.
“Another?” He chuckles.
“I don’t want to know.”
That makes him laugh harder. My phone buzzes again, reminding me that I just received a text. “Listen, I get what you were trying to do. You weren’t setting out to deceive anyone, at least I don’t think you were.” When I shake my head to let him know he was correct, he continues on. “But you need to put a stop to it.”
The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance Page 5
