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The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance

Page 28

by Van Wyk, Jennifer


  “I don’t know?” she whispers.

  I swallow hard and grab her hand. “I’m just teasing. Not planning on sticking around.”

  We spin around and practically fall out of the barn door, laughing our asses off, any sort of weirdness I was feeling vanishes immediately.

  “Holy shit! Why didn’t they stop? I saw her boobs, Beau! Her boobs!”

  “What? You’ve never seen boobs before?” I tease. Of their own volition, my eyes trail down to hers. Though, in my defense, they’re not small and have drawn my attention more times than I care to admit. Might make me an asshole since I have a girlfriend and Addy’s one of my best friends, but I’m an eighteen-year-old guy and I like boobs. Plus, hers just happen to be fantastic.

  She covers herself and glares. “Shut up! He had his hand… you know!”

  I grin at her catching me but not calling me a perv or anything. She knows I’d never do anything to betray our friendship or my relationship with Lizzy. “Want to go back and see if they’re about to do it?”

  She shoves my chest and laughs harder. “Screw that!”

  “I think they’re about to.” I chuckle.

  “Gah, you’re such a jerk.”

  “Yet you love me.”

  I get another eye roll before she grabs my hand and tugs me along. “Let’s go find Lizzy. Hopefully she’s only smoking.”

  “What do you mean, only smoking?”

  She stops again and turns to face me, fidgeting nervously. “Umm… well, she mentioned wanting to try something.”

  “Try? Something? What exactly is she wanting to try?”

  “Yeah, I guess?”

  “What do you mean, you guess?”

  “I don’t know! She just said that she heard someone had molly and she wanted to try it.”

  “Fuck.”

  We keep looking around but it’s not as if there are many places to hide out here in the open. Walking around the back side of the large barn the soft sounds of music fill the air along with grunts and moans.

  “Holy shit,” Addy breathes out. “Again? What is up with people tonight?”

  I laugh softly then all the breath leaves me when I recognize the sound of one of those moans. I spin around and look down at Addy who’s staring off into the direction of…

  “Lizzy,” my best friend moans.

  Moans…

  Fucking. Moans her name.

  “Tyson,” my girlfriend replies. “Yes! Right there. It’s so good.”

  “Oh my gosh, nooooo,” Addy says quietly.

  Lizzy.

  Tyson.

  My girlfriend of a little over a year.

  My best friend for over a decade.

  “Always. Always so good,” comes Tyson’s reply.

  Always.

  Always?

  Grunts and moans and soft music and…

  “What the fuck is going on?!” I roar and Addy whimpers next to me. What a stupid question to ask. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

  Tyson and Lizzy’s head both jerk up at the same time. From where she’s mounted in his lap and her legs are wrapped around his waist. Shorts are discarded next to them. Their shirts still in place.

  “Answer me!” I shout and Addy jumps, placing a hand on my back.

  Lizzy scrambles off Tyson’s lap and moves toward me before remembering that she’s naked from the waist down. Quickly the two dress themselves, eyes wide when they finally right themselves enough and gain the courage to look at me.

  “Beau!” Lizzy cries. “Beau.”

  “Well, you were right about one thing. I am definitely surprised. Though, I’m not happy with the surprise.”

  “Beau,” Tyson says quietly. Apologetically. Takes a step toward me, hands in the air like he’s surrendering. “Let me explain.”

  “Explain the fact that you were just having sex with my girlfriend? Oh this ought to be good.” I plant my feet wide and cross my arms across my chest.

  Lizzy’s pathetic cries don’t go unnoticed but for the first time in the four years I’ve been with her, they don’t faze me. She can play this any way she wants, but the last several months are coming back to me with glaring clarity. All those times I couldn’t get ahold of her or didn’t know where she was. All those moments where she would seem distant or her thoughts centered anywhere but on me.

  “Lizzy?” Addy’s sweet voice calls out from next to me. Sad. Disgusted. Irritated. “How could you?”

  “I…”

  Addy starts marching toward Lizzy like she’s about to pounce on her but I pull her back. “Doesn’t matter. Seems to me it’s been going on for some time now. Tell me I’m wrong. Lie to me, just as you’ve both been doing for… how long? Admit that you’ve been deceiving me, double crossing me.” My voice is calm, unlike my heart that’s threatening to pound right out of my chest. My body feels tight, pulse beating hard in my neck as I grit my teeth against the desire to pummel my friend. It’s hard for me not to beat the absolute shit out of him right now. I’ve always had a short temper, quick to use my size and strength if needed. Or, sometimes, wanted. Never did I imagine I’d want to turn that onto Tyson

  “Beau, man… I’m sorry. I have no excuse.”

  “You’re right, Tyson. You don’t.” I bark. Addy places a hand on my back and something in me calms. I take a deep breath and look down at her. Down at my friend who’s been by my side and makes me laugh and has never wavered in her friendship. Her blue eyes soften, even in the darkness that surrounds us. I swallow hard and turn back to the two people I once trusted with my life. “But neither does Lizzy. It makes no difference whether or not you’re sorry. I can’t even look at you. Either of you. Get the fuck out of my face.”

  I thread my fingers together on top of my head and feel the muscles in my arms protest, aching to throw a punch. “Fuck! Years. YEARS! Years of friendship. No, fuck that. Of brotherhood. Gone. Because you couldn’t keep your dick out of my girlfriend?” I drop my hands and shake my head. “And you…” I turn to face Lizzy whose tears are streaking down her cheeks as she holds her hands to her chest. I suck in a breath as I stare at the girl I gave all my firsts to. Was blindly in love with. Whether it’s because her parents are getting a divorce or not, there’s no excuse. “You’re nothing but a cheating bitch.”

  I spin around and storm away, shrugging off Tyson who tries to stop me with a hand on my shoulder. I ignore the way he shouts out my name. I ignore Lizzy’s cries to stop and come back to them and listen. I ignore the looks of everyone as I push through the crowd around the fire and climb into my pickup. I start it up with a satisfying roar, take a breath and close my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts.

  How could I miss this?

  How could I have been so blind to the fact that the friend I considered more a brother than my own two had been sleeping with my girlfriend?

  The passenger door opens and Addy climbs in.

  “Drive.”

  “Addy…”

  “Just drive. You need this.”

  She’s right. Whenever I need time to think, I do it best behind the wheel of my pickup.

  Putting my truck in reverse, I tear out of my spot at the edge of the field, switch to drive and do just that. I drive. Addy in the passenger seat, sitting quietly with one leg tucked under the other, her elbow resting on the console.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see her flip open her ringing phone and slam it shut, shoving it in one of the empty cup holders.

  I grunt, knowing that Holly was just trying to call her.

  “You didn’t know?”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  I nod, knowing that she’s telling the truth. She’s a terrible liar. She can’t manage to sit still, rather fidgets and winces because it goes against her nature.

  “I have no idea what she was thinking.”

  “Are you surprised?” I ask in a whisper and hold my breath for her answer. I don’t know what answer I’m hoping for because part of me wants her to be just a
s surprised as I am. That I’m not the only one who was an idiot.

  “No,” she says just as quietly, shaking her head back and forth while looking down at her lap. Timid. Shy. Pained. Her slender fingers slide across the console and grip my forearm. “There is something wrong that I can’t put my finger on but she’s been off since before Prom.”

  “Probably because she was trying to hide the fact that she was screwing Tyson behind my back.”

  “Maybe. Maybe it’s something else? I don’t know but I wish… I guess I wish things were different.”

  I sigh and relax into my seat. Still driving. Letting the purr of the engine and low music coming through the speakers calm me. “Me too.”

  We’ve been driving around for a couple hours, letting the music coming through the speakers speak for us when Addy’s phone rings again. She reaches down for it, flipping it open and sighing heavily. This time answering, “Hi Mom.”

  I glance over at the clock and wince when I realize it’s way past her curfew. She squeezes my arm and I bite back a laugh when her eyes widen comically.

  “Sorry, sorry. I know. It’s late.” She pauses as her mom no doubt yells on the other end. Suzie’s a single mom and incredibly protective. “I’m with Beau. Something happened tonight and we’re just driving around.” Another pause and she looks at me, our eyes meeting for a second before I turn my attention back on the gravel road before us. “Okay. Yeah. I get it, Mom. I promise I’ll be home soon.” She hangs up and places it back in the cup holder.

  “Mama Suzie on a war path?”

  “Oh yeah. She’s pissed.” She laughs and makes an eek face. “But when I told her who I was with she seemed to relax a little bit. I’ll be grounded for sure but whatever.”

  “I’m sorry. My bad. I’ll get you home,” I tell her but make no move to change the direction of the pickup. Continuing down the quiet dusty gravel road, past old farm houses and barns. I love driving these backroads. I’ve always felt more at home surrounded by nothingness.

  “No!” She shouts and I chuckle at her outburst. “No. She said I could stay out another hour.”

  I turn “Suzie’s being generous tonight?”

  “Apparently,” she murmurs.

  We drive in silence until it’s time to bring her home. Neither of us needing to speak. Content to think and move forward from the shit storm that occurred tonight.

  I pull into Addy’s driveway and park.

  “Thank you, Addy.”

  “You’re welcome, Beau. You know I’m always here for you.”

  “I know. Besides my family and Tyson, you’ve been the only constant in my life. I can’t wrap my head around this.” And that’s the bitch of it. Most of my favorite childhood memories revolved around Tyson and Addy. For a long time, it was the three of us. Then Holly came along.

  She shifts so her knee is resting against the back of the seat. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m not surprised about him, either.”

  “Why?” I ask her, voice calm despite the fact that I’m angrier than I’ve ever been.

  “I always got this feeling that he was jealous of you.”

  “Of me? Why? He’s got everything.”

  She shakes her head. “No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t have this,” she says quietly as she places a hand over my heart. “You have the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met, Beau Peterson.”

  “No I don’t. I’m like a live wire, always looking for a fight. At least, that’s what the principal reminded my parents of any chance he got.”

  “You were never looking for a fight. You were always standing up for someone. You just chose to use your hands to get your point across instead of words.”

  There’s major truth to that statement but still, Tyson has had everything a teenage boy could dream of his entire life. Always the best clothes and shoes, vacations all over the world, a brand new truck when he turned sixteen, always the latest video games. His grades might not have been straight A’s but he managed B’s and C’s just fine. In every sport he played, he was the star of the team. An endless string of girls trailed after him.

  “He had everything. Why did he have to take what was mine?”

  “No. He didn’t. His parents might have a ton of money and he might be a great athlete, but none of that matters if what’s inside is filled with resentment.”

  “What does he have to resent me for? That makes no sense, Addy.”

  “If you think about it, it’ll come to you.” She starts to climb out but I stop her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s one thing you always had that he wanted. Even if you didn’t know you had it, it’s been yours all along.”

  “Huh?”

  “Get some sleep, Beau. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She jumps down out of my pickup and moves to shut the door.

  “Addy, wait.”

  “What is it?” she asks, turning to face me.

  “Thank you, again. For being there for me.”

  “Always, Beau. Always.”

  Did you read…

  Have you read A Better Place where we met Jack Cole for the first time and learned the story of how his dad, James, came to his life?

  Here’s a little peek at A Better Place:

  A Better Place Prologue

  Carly

  “You’re worthless, you know that?”

  I stand motionless, the venom in his words used to cut me deeply, but sadly it’s something I’ve gotten used to. My hands are hanging at my sides, my fingers twisting the string hanging from my cutoff shorts. My hair is in a messy bun on top of my head. It’s so long and thick, and the summer heat and humidity is driving me insane, but he won’t let me cut it like I want to. It’s almost down to my waist so, unless I want to die from heat stroke, I put it up almost every day.

  “What? You can’t even reply?” he sneers at me, looking me up and down disapprovingly.

  I close my eyes, knowing the toxic poison he will be spewing at me won’t end there. It wasn’t always this way. As with most situations like mine, no one enters into it knowing what a spouse is going to turn out like. No. In the beginning, it’s blissful. He said all the right things. Did all the right things. Made me feel like I was living on a cloud. Told me I was beautiful on my worst days, and I had a lot of bad days. When I left my home for college, I thought everything would finally fall into place. Growing up without a father, I never thought of myself as having daddy issues. But having a mother who turned to alcohol at every turn, showing up to school events wasted, couldn’t even sit through my high school graduation without sucking down alcohol first, really messed with me. Always made me wonder what I couldn’t give her that she needed alcohol to fill. Her constant neediness, paired with her violent words she would shout at me, eventually blaming me for her life she lived alone, was a blow to my already-diminished self-confidence.

  When I met Vince, he was always amazing and wonderful. I thought I had found one of the most chivalrous gentlemen in the world. He built me back up, told me things I hadn’t heard from anyone, maybe my entire life. And it wasn’t just his words; his actions told me he was just as smitten as I was. Always showed me affection whether we were in public or alone, cheered the loudest for me during my intramural sports — even our engagement was in front of hundreds of people. I look back now and realize that it was always a show. He was charming, kind, generous, and loving. I couldn’t believe I had found a man who could love me like he did. Until I couldn’t believe I found someone who loved me the way he did.

  “You think being a teacher means you don’t have to do shit all summer long? What did you even do today?”

  I don’t answer him because, no matter what I say, it won’t be good enough. I don’t tell him that I cleaned the kitchen floor, did three loads of laundry, played with Jack, balanced the checkbook (and ignored the charges to the strip joint on the credit card) and had a homemade supper on the table waiting for him, but because I didn�
��t get a chance to pick up the dry cleaning, I’ll not mention any of the chores I did. He doesn’t want an answer anyway — it will only engage him more and cause him to belittle me further.

  This wasn’t our first dance.

  “Did you even shower today?” He curls his lip at me in disgust.

  Again, I don’t answer. It won’t matter. If I shower, he yells at me for wasting water on a day that I’m not even leaving the house. Or he’ll ask who I need to look good for since he isn’t home all day. And the fact is, I didn’t shower today. I was outside playing basketball with Jack after going for a run and hadn’t gotten to it yet.

  “Look at you. You’re so fucking pathetic.” I flinch at the word he rarely used, at least in front of me. “You disgust me. How do you expect me to want to screw someone who looks like you?” he asks as he reaches over and pinches my stomach, as if it’s fat.

  I’m 5’2” and barely weigh one hundred pounds. I run at least five miles every day. I play tennis, do yoga. He knows this. It was what he practically demanded of me. Not that it matters to him, anyway. I could look like a supermodel, and it wouldn’t be good enough for the great Vince Taylor. And if I’m honest, I hope I disgust him enough to not have sex with me. I sure as hell don’t care about having sex with him.

  Vince is a good-looking man. I have to admit that. On the outside at least. But I know better. A man’s heart, when it’s full of malevolence, tends to seep into the outside. To me, his once beautiful green eyes now only look like that of a snake’s. His strong arms that I once found comfort in during our early years now only shake with violence as he holds back from doing to me what I know he really wants to.

  I’m one of the lucky ones. I have only endeared verbal abuse. So far.

  He reaches for me again, and I stiffen at the thought of his touch on any part of me. He grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

  “What? I can’t touch my wife?”

  My stare holds his. I know better than to break eye contact. He finds it a sign of weakness. He uses it to hold power over me. It isn’t a sign of love. It’s a sign of ownership.

 

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