Portia Moore - He Lived Next Door

by Unknown

  It was something like that. Yeah, it had to have been. It was some mental-induced anomaly that made me imagine those things. That explains it all—except I never went to sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep, so I’ve been up all night, so it couldn’t have been a dream. Or maybe all of this is a dream.

  “Look, it’s New York!” the little boy next to me tells his mom, pointing at the buildings shining brightly below us.

  “It’s his first time,” she tells me with a glowing smile.

  I smile back, looking at the cute little boy next to me. He can’t be more than ten. I can’t help but think of Logan, and that rips through my thoughts of my divine visit. There is no divine. That’s what I tell myself getting off the plane and walking through the airport. My stomach drops when I see Davien, wearing a devious smile, holding a sign with my name on it.

  “What are you doing here?” I squeal, unable to hide my surprise.

  “Rough flight?” he kids.

  I can’t help but think about how terrible I look with bags under my eyes that are so big I could carry my luggage in them. “Long night.” I sigh, feeling my cheeks heat up.

  “You’re still beautiful,” he says, those grey eyes reminding me how alluring he is.

  “It was so nice of you to pick me up.”

  He takes my bag. It’s only a small carry-on but I appreciate the gesture. “No worries, it gives me an excuse to get away from the office.”

  We navigate through the busy airport. There’s an energy in the air, a buzz, almost like when you start to feel the effects of your first drink. We head to the parking garage, and Davien walks over to a beautiful black Maybach. He pops the trunk and tosses my bag in. I take a second to admire the car—it’s all luxury and screams elite. If this car is any indication of how many deals he makes, I definitely feel like I picked the right agent. He hops in, cool and suave like James Bond, and I can’t help but think how far I look from a Bond girl with my Pink sweats and plane hair.

  “You’re here. I didn’t think you were going to come,” he says before pulling off.

  I let out a light laugh. “I didn’t think I was going to come either.”

  “You made the right decision. You won’t regret it.” He gives me a dazzling smile, one that makes my stomach flip-flop.

  I smile back while trying to block out my memories of yesterday.

  “You okay?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned.

  “Yeah, being here is just sort of surreal.”

  “Like a dream?”

  I can’t help but smile. “No, I haven’t been having much luck with dreams.” I let my head lean back into the plush leather seat.

  “Well, we won’t call this a dream then. More like the best escape from reality you’ll ever experience.” His voice is almost intoxicating. The phone doesn’t do it justice. It's deep and warm and enveloping. He could be a narrator on a commercial or do audio books.

  I tell him that, and he laughs. As we drive, I let my window down, taking in the scenery, the air, and the people. New York is like Chicago’s cooler big brother. Davien’s quiet as he watches the road, though I notice him sneaking glances at me every so often. Then I realize that if I notice him sneaking glances at me, I must be sneaking glances at him. Soon we’re in Manhattan, and I can’t help but think of Sex and the City.

  “I’m in New York!” I say, my phone in hand as I snap a few pictures.

  “The Big Apple, babe,” he says, mimicking I guess what would be a Bronx accent.

  I pull up my itinerary showing my hotel information. “I hope they let me check in early so I can drop off my bags before sightseeing.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I made other arrangements for you,” he says with a secretive grin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The hotel you were staying at was crap.”

  “What do you mean? It had really good reviews, other than it being sort of small, but isn’t that to be expected with New York hotels?”

  “If you were an ordinary tourist, it’d be fine, but this isn’t an ordinary trip and I’m not an ordinary guy, so you’re not staying at an ordinary hotel.”

  I frown but can’t deny how excited I am. “So what extraordinary place am I staying at?”

  “Rule number one of this trip. You don’t get to ask questions,” he says with a mischievous grin.

  “I never took you for a rule guy,” I tease.

  “Rule number two, you have to keep an open mind with whatever I present to you.”

  That makes me hesitate.

  “Don’t think too much. That should be rule number three.”

  I laugh. “I might as well be seventeen again.”

  “I bet you had a lot more fun then than you did now,” he winks, and I laugh. “Rule number three—”

  “I thought rule number three was not thinking too much?”

  “Which you’re already sort of breaking,” he counters. “Official rule number three…” He pauses as if waiting for me to interrupt, but I don’t. “Do whatever Davien says.”

  I scoff. “So you pretty much want me to be at your mercy?”

  “Would being at my mercy be such a bad thing?” His eyes smile at me with an unspoken dare.

  You’re approaching a dangerous line.

  I ignore the chill that shoots through me. That wasn’t real. It didn’t happen.

  “You okay?” Davien asks again.

  “Yeah, just had a weird night,” I say with a flirty smile.

  “Fun weird or weird-wierd?”

  I glance at Davien. He’s handsome, smart, career-oriented, sexy, a little arrogant—maybe a lot arrogant—rich, single, and living in one of the most exciting cities in the world, but that’s all on the surface. I wonder what’s beneath, or if I should even attempt to scratch the surface. What would he say if I told him about my weird dream, if I told him I don’t really know if it’s a dream, that I’m sort of terrified by it.

  “Have you ever had a dream that was really weird?” I ask, wanting to test the waters.

  He chuckles, low and rich. “If I could translate my dreams for you to write, they’d make best sellers.”

  I feel myself sinking into my seat. I’m sure the types of dreams he’s talking about aren’t what I’m talking about. “I mean like, when you’re not sure if you’re awake or asleep. Where if it wasn’t so crazy, you’d have thought it was real.”

  He’s quiet for a minute as if he’s really pondering my question. I thought he’d have a quick retort or an amusing anecdote.

  “What was it about?” he asks, his brows drawn together.

  I’m surprised he’s giving it genuine thought. I let out a small sigh. “It’s so farfetched that I’m embarrassed to even say it.”

  “It can’t be worse than some of the manuscripts I used to get in the slush pile.” He chuckles. “You can’t be embarrassed about a dream.”

  If he wasn’t in the dream, it’d be much easier for me to tell him about it.

  “I was in it?” he asks, his grin way too pleased.

  “Maybe.”

  His smile widens. “Okay, don’t tell me. I’d rather you tell me over dinner.”

  At this point, we’re pulling into a parking garage connected to a gigantic high rise.

  As we walk into the lobby, I say, “This doesn’t look like a hotel.”

  “It’s not. It’s where I live,” he says with a sneaky grin.

  I stop in my tracks. “Wait, you don’t think I’m staying with you, do you?”

  He walks toward me, stopping when we’re only a few inches apart. His pale grey eyes dance with mine, and his smile is innocent. “Now that would be completely inappropriate, wouldn’t it?”

  He takes my hand, and I fight the small gasp trying to escape as he leads me to the elevator. The building is sleek, modern, and high end. He hits number twenty-six as the door closes.

  “I’m not staying at your apartment,” I tell him, my voice stern for the first time all day.


  “I have three bedrooms. Yours would be an en-suite.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’d be too weird.”

  He cocks his head at me. “You’re breaking the rules,” he says in a sing-songy voice, but instead of whining, it’s unrelenting.

  “You didn’t mention you planned on having me stay with you,” I scold him.

  “Look, it’s not like we’d be in the same bed. It doesn’t make sense for you to stay in some crap hotel by yourself in a city that eats people alive.” The way he says it makes it seem like it makes sense and it’s not a big deal, but it is a big deal.

  The elevator opens and he steps out. My feet, however, are glued to the floor. My thoughts drift to Bryce and how I’d feel if I found out if he was staying in some woman’s apartment, especially a woman who is as attractive as Davien and flirts as openly… then I think of Kira and all of his flights. It’s entirely possible that he has done this before.

  “Can you at least take a look before you say no?”

  I glare at him.

  “We’re friends, right?” he asks with a glint in his eye. “If we’re just friends, it shouldn’t be a problem… unless you’re afraid.” He digs his hands into what I know have to be way-too-expensive slacks.

  I sigh before leaving the elevator. “I’m just looking.”

  He follows me, surely wearing a satisfied grin. He walks over to a door only a few feet away from the elevator, waves something in front of it, and we hear the lock click.

  “Fancy,” I tell him, trying to loosen up a bit.

  He opens the door and allows me to walk in. His apartment is jaw-dropping. If this was one of my books, it’d be panty-dropping. It’s large and open concept with sunlight pouring in through a wall of windows. The walls are white, the floors are dark chocolate, and the furniture ranges from honey to deep brown. It looks professionally decorated, like something straight off HGTV. My apartment back home is nice, but Bryce and I chose everything together before my book sales started to take off, so we were conscious of how much we spent. This place looks like no expense was spared.

  “What do you think?” he asks.

  I grin at him, but I shrug as if I’m not impressed. “I’m not surprised.”

  “You like?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

  “It fits you,” I say, refusing to give him the response that he wants.

  “Let me show you around,” he says.

  He points toward the kitchen, which is obvious. It’s similar to mine, with all stainless steel appliances, but his tops aren’t granite. They seem to be some sort of stained concrete. His kitchen, unlike mine, has a double oven, and the wine storage is fully stocked.

  “This would be your room if you decided to stay,” he says, tossing an amused glance at me as he opens a door.

  The large, beautiful bedroom has the same view as his living room and a gigantic fireplace. He guides me through to show me the en-suite bathroom with a shower large enough for four people. He points at the controls, showing me how to change the temperature of the water as well as the floors, and he shows me the closet that will make my small carry-on feel lonely. I do note that it’s empty aside from a few suits and shoes of his.

  “So what are you thinking?” he asks, leading me out of the bedroom and over to the large island, where he takes a seat.

  “Your home is gorgeous, though I’m sure you already know that,” I say as I sit across from him.

  He smiles in agreement.

  “I’m sure my little hotel room won’t live up to this,” I admit, and his smile widens. “Still it’s just…”

  “My room is all the way over there,” he says, pointing toward the other side of the apartment as if it’s an entire continent away. I noted that he didn’t show me his room, which has made me more curious. “I have my own bathroom, and your door locks. I even have a cleaning lady come twice a week, so it’s sort of like housekeeping, and you’d have a private entrance to one of the best steak houses in the city through this building.”

  His home is spectacular and looks immaculately kept. His cleaning lady should get an award because I haven’t noticed one thing out of place. I do hate using hotel showers and bathrooms. I even get my own cleaning supplies and sterilize them before using them.

  “It’s just a weekend, Chassidy. It’s not like you’re moving in. If you feel uncomfortable, you can check in at your hotel-hell place,” he says smugly.

  I throw my head back and sigh. “Okay.”

  I can’t help but notice how much easier it’s getting to say yes to him. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

  Davien leaves me his keys and security code before he heads off to the office. He has two meetings scheduled, but he’s promised that after that, he’s all mine. I hate when he says things like that. I hate that a microscopic part of me likes when he says things like that. Those comments were what I most looked forward to during our conversations, emails, and texts. It’s only harmless flirting. That’s what I told myself then and what I tell myself now as I unpack the few things I brought with me.

  I take a quick shower, which feels so good it should be illegal. I make a mental note to upgrade my shower head when I get home. I’m going to head to Times Square for some shopping. I’ve told Davien that I also want to see the Statue of Liberty, and he promised we can go tonight after dinner. There’s a ferry that will get us really close, and on a week night, it shouldn’t be too crowded.

  I take out the nail polish I brought to freshen up my nails since I don’t want to waste any extra time here in a salon to get them done, and dial Nicole’s number to see if she’s free while I pass the time.

  “Hey, babe,” she says excitedly.

  “Guess where I am?” I say, matching her excitement.

  “You better not say New York since you were supposed to call and tell me if you were going to go,” she says in a faux reprimanding tone.

  “Well, I’m telling you that I am not in New York in a gorgeous apartment, painting my toe nails with the polish you gave me last year,” I tell her, unable to suppress my smile.

  “Liar!”

  A moment later, my phone signals that she’s Facetiming me. I laugh as I pick up. She’s sitting in her office against the backdrop of my hometown, and it’s silly that I feel a little homesick at the sight of it. I haven’t been gone a full day yet, but this is the first time I’ve ever traveled alone.

  “You sneaky whore,” she scolds.

  I can’t help but laugh, knowing that her insult is a playful compliment. “I’m not sneaky. I didn’t decide to come until yesterday and… things went a little crazy after that.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re really there. I didn’t think you had it in you,” she says, shock all over her face.

  I shrug as I move on to my next toenail.

  “And what hotel are you in? It looks super swanky,” she asks.

  This, I do feel a little embarrassed about. “I’m not in a hotel actually. When I got here, Davien said the hotel I picked was sort of grimy and I shouldn’t stay alone and he has this huge apartment—”

  “Wait, wait, wait! You, Chassidy Marie Bell, are staying in your hot agent’s apartment?” she asks, her excitement growing with each word.

  “It’s not a big deal. It makes sense,” I say, keeping my tone casual and even.

  “You’re lying!”

  I laugh. “No, I’m not. I’m actually texting you the address where I am now in case he turns out to be a psycho or something after all.” I set the nail polish aside and send her the address.

  “Ahhh. I can’t believe you’re doing this, but good for you!” she says, sounding way too excited.

  “Nic, I’m not doing anything!”

  “So you’re not trying to get even with Bryce for catching him with that skank?” she asks.

  I sigh. “Thanks, Nic, I’ve been trying not to think about that.”

  “Well you should. An eye for an eye, right? Have you talked to him yet?”
<
br />   I tell her that I haven’t and recap the conversation with my mom.

  “I can’t believe he talked to your mother and hasn’t called you yet. How much of a coward could he be? You deserve for him to at least tell you what’s going on,” she says, full of anger and indignation for me.

  “I’d rather not talk about Bryce.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I won’t bring him up anymore. I was just curious and wanted to make sure you're okay, hon.”

  “I know.” I give her a smile.

  “Question, are you avoiding Kelsey?”

  I love how Nicole can move from one sore subject to another without a transition or a clue that she’s doing it.

  “Why? Is she saying that?”

  She frowns at me. “She asked about you, which is weird since she usually talks to you a lot more than she talks to me.”

  I let out a long sigh. “You know how Kelsey is. I just… I can’t deal with her right now.”

  Nicole looks surprised. “Wow, what happened?”

  “I really don’t want to get into it, but I’ll just say that she should respect people’s boundaries more.”

  Nicole shrugs, letting me know she’s going to drop the subject. “Speaking of boundaries, how is the bangable neighbor next door?”

  I streak polish right across Davien’s bed. “Crap, I just got polish on Davien’s bed spread!”

  “You don’t have any remover with you?”

  I groan, looking at the light pink stain on what has to be a thousand-dollar bed spread. “No, I only had a big bottle and it was over what I could carry on.”

  “I’m sure he’s had worse stains.” She giggles.

  I roll my eyes, then I hop up, grab a towel, and dab it. Thankfully it seems to disappear.

  “Hunky neighbor, back to him,” she says.

  I stop to think about what to tell her. If, as I hope, it was a dream, then that says nothing about Carter. If it wasn’t a dream, he’s nuts or I’m nuts, and I’m not sure which it is. So instead of defaming his name or worrying Nicole that I’m losing my marbles, I tell her about the situation as if it really was a dream, leaving out the parts about him knowing about Logan and Anna.

  When I’m done, she waves. “It’s probably just your conscience.”