Next to Me

by Allie Everhart

  "I don't think he read them. I think he just hoarded them."

  "Well, they're all in the recycle bin." She pats the top of a box. "I'm going to start on this stack next."

  "It's almost ten. You have to get to Lou's."

  She checks her watch. "I didn't know it was that late. Okay, well, I'll see you this afternoon, after I stop at the store."

  "If you don't want to come back this afternoon, that's fine." I say that, but the truth is, I want her to come back. I like having her here with me, even if she's in the other room. A few times I heard her singing along to my country music. She was off tune and I'm not sure she even knew she was singing because when I walked in to tease her about it, she was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't even notice me there. So I turned around and went back to the kitchen, laughing to myself.

  "I'll be back around four," she says. "I'll work for an hour and still have plenty of time to make dinner."

  "Sounds good. Need help with the garage door?"

  "Nope. I got it." She leaves and I stand at the door, watching her. She still limps a little because of her knee. I feel bad she hurt it because of me, but I think the broken sidewalk was more to blame than my truck. But I'll get the sidewalk fixed this weekend.

  Callie shows up again at four and gets right to work. She's a hard worker, like me. She sees what needs to be done and does it. At five, she goes home to make dinner. I'm a little surprised that she insisted on making it. But she did say she likes to cook.

  At six-fifteen, I shower and put on dark jeans and a button-up shirt because a t-shirt didn't seem nice enough for a homemade chicken marsala dinner. I run down to the gas station and get another bottle of wine, a more expensive one this time, then head over to Callie's house just before seven. As I stand at her door, I feel like I'm going on a date, dressed nicer than normal and bringing a bottle of wine.

  "Why are you so dressed up?" Callie asks as she answers the door. She's wearing black shorts and a light pink, button-up shirt. And she's wearing earrings, small silver hoops. I haven't seen her wear jewelry before, but I like it. I also haven't seen her with her hair down until tonight. It's straight and silky and hangs a little below her shoulders.

  "You're making a nice dinner and I didn't want to look like a slob." I hand her the wine.

  "This is a good one," she says, inspecting the wine. "Thanks."

  She steps aside to let me in, and as soon as I walk in the house, I smell the food. "The chicken smells great. I can't wait to try it."

  "I also made a salad and got a loaf of bread." She walks over to the kitchen and holds up a tray. "And I made these since I didn't show up with them last night."

  I go over and see a row of chocolate chip cookies lined up on the tray. "You baked for me?"

  "Only because I told you I'd bring them over last night and didn't."

  "Can I have one? Or do I have to wait until after dinner?"

  She laughs. "You can have one. Go ahead."

  They're still warm from the oven and when I bite into one, it practically melts in my mouth.

  "What do you think?" she asks.

  "Best cookie I ever had."

  "You're just saying that." She goes to the stove and stirs the sauce that surrounds the chicken.

  "No, really." I take another cookie. "These are even better than the ones my mom used to make. And she was a good cook."

  Callie covers the sauce and turns back to me. "You're eating another one? Now you're not going to be hungry for dinner."

  "Trust me. I could eat that whole tray and still be hungry for dinner." I pop the rest of the cookie in my mouth, then open the drawer and get the corkscrew and open the bottle of wine.

  Callie leans against the counter, watching me. "I find it odd how you just make yourself comfortable in someone else's house. Are you like that with everyone?"

  "Pretty much. Why? Does it bother you?"

  "I'm just saying that you really should ask before going through people's stuff."

  "I wasn't going through your stuff. I was just getting a corkscrew." I go around her to get the wine glasses. "And if you're referring to me going through your bathroom when we first met, that was an emergency. I didn't have a choice in the matter."

  The timer on the stove beeps and she goes over and turns it off. "Chicken's done. Time to eat."

  I look over and see the table set with placemats and silverware and the flowers I brought her the other night. As I set our wine glasses down, I can't help but feel like this is a date. Is that what Callie was thinking when she did all this? Or is this just two neighbors having dinner?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Callie

  After dinner, Nash and I lingered at the table for two hours, drinking wine and talking. We avoided any heavy topics and stuck to talking about movies and TV shows and current events.

  Now we're in the kitchen and Nash is scrubbing pans, like he promised he'd do. It's great not to have to clean up. That's always the worst part of cooking so I'm happy to let him do it, but I feel weird just standing around so I grab a dish towel and dry one of the bowls he just cleaned.

  "Hey." He motions to my dish towel. "I said I'd do it. Go sit down and relax."

  "You'll be here all night if I don't help."

  He chuckles. "You in a hurry to get rid of me?"

  "No." I shake my head. "Never mind. Just keep scrubbing."

  "Between this and the other work I did today, I'm wearing out my hands. Would you take a raincheck on the foot massage?"

  "I was kidding. You don't have to give me one."

  "I want to, but my hands need to be in good shape to do it and right now they're worn out from ripping out the floor."

  "Then yeah, I'll take a raincheck." I couldn't handle a foot massage now anyway. I'm already aroused enough from just being around him all night. The massage would be too much.

  Nash showed up tonight wearing dark jeans and a white button-up shirt. That doesn't sound like anything special, but on him? Very sexy. The shirt is bright white against his dark tan and he rolled the sleeves up a little, giving it a more casual look, but still dressy for him. I've only seen him in t-shirts. And he put on cologne; a light clean scent that I noticed as soon as I opened the door. It made me think this was a date, even though I know it's not.

  "Do you miss Chicago?" I ask as I dry the pan I used to sauté the mushrooms.

  "Not really. I needed a break from there."

  "Any reason why?" I shouldn't ask. If I'm not willing to tell him about me, I shouldn't ask him personal questions like that.

  "My ex lives in my building. On the same floor, just a few apartments down." He hands me the skillet he just washed. "I got tired of watching her with her new boyfriend."

  "This is the girl you dated for two years?"

  "Yeah. We were supposed to get married."

  "You were engaged?" I ask, sounding shocked.

  He smiles. "Why are you so surprised? You think I'm not the marrying type?"

  "No, that's not what I meant." Or maybe I did. Nash could get any girl he wants, so why would he want to settle down at the age of 25?

  "I'm a relationship guy," he says, placing a wine glass in the drying rack. "I don't do the one-night stand thing. I'd rather have a girlfriend."

  "So what happened?"

  "With Marissa? My ex?"

  "Yeah. Or do you not want to talk about it?"

  He shakes the water off the other wine glass and adds it to the drying rack. "It's not my favorite topic, but long story short, she cheated on me. I found her in bed with another guy. A guy she works with at the law firm. The boss' son."

  "Really?" I cringe. "That's bad."

  "Yeah. Exactly. So you can see why I got sick of seeing her with him."

  "Are they still together?"

  He shrugs. "Who knows? She called me last night to tell me she was breaking up with him but she was drunk so I don't believe her."

  "She called you? So you guys still talk?"

&nbs
p; "We did when we lived in the same building, but it was just a quick hello, how's-it-going type of thing. Not an actual conversation. And she always initiated it, not me. I have no desire to talk to her again."

  For a minute there, I thought he was going to say they were getting back together, and just the thought of that caused a pinch of jealousy to rise up in me. Why would I be jealous? He's my neighbor. And my boss. That's it.

  "That must've been hard," I say. "Not just the thing with the other guy. But losing her. Losing the person you love."

  He leans back against the counter, drying his hand on a towel. "The thing is, I'm starting to wonder if I ever really loved her. Or if I just thought I did because we'd gone out for so long and were basically living together."

  I set my dish towel down. "You don't think you loved her?"

  "Part of me did, but the other part of me always had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right between Marissa and me. So it's good it ended. It would've been a mistake to marry her."

  He turns back to the counter, drops his hand towel, and reaches around me for a cookie, his body brushing against mine.

  "You have no concerns about personal space, do you?" I ask as he stands right in front of me, eating his cookie.

  "Not when it's someone I like being close to." He smiles while chomping on his cookie.

  He's flirting again. I've decided Nash is just the type of guy who flirts with everyone. He's outgoing and confident and says what he thinks, which I'm sure gets him a lot of girls. That, and the fact that he's really hot.

  My water glass from dinner is on the counter next to me and he picks it up, still standing just inches away from me.

  "Are you going to move?" I ask as he gulps down the water.

  He chuckles as he sets the glass down, then leans forward, planting his hands on the counter behind me, blocking me in. "I think I'll just stay here and see how uncomfortable I can make you."

  "You've accomplished your goal. Now would you move?" My eyes are directed at his massive chest, which is hovering over me. God, he smells good. I just want to drink in that scent for a moment.

  "I'll move if you let me take home a few of those cookies."

  "You can take them all if you want." I turn toward the counter and he finally steps back, giving me room. "I'll wrap them up for you."

  "Don't you want some for yourself?"

  "I'll have one, but I don't need any more than that. I work at a bakery. I could eat cookies all day if I wanted to." I take a cookie and break it in half, offering it to him. "Here. I don't want the whole thing."

  He pops the entire half in his mouth, chews, and swallows while I'm still nibbling on mine.

  "What?" I ask, because he's staring at me. "Did you want the rest of my cookie? Just take another one. There's plenty there."

  "I don't want another one."

  "Then why are you staring at me like that?"

  His sexy grin appears. "Because you have chocolate all over the left side of your mouth."

  "Oh." I lick it off, and notice Nash watching me even more intently, specifically my mouth. "Did I get it?"

  "No."

  "Well, tell me where it is." I reach up to touch my mouth but he catches my wrist, stopping me. Our eyes meet and I feel the heat rise in the room. I can deny it all I want but there is some serious chemistry between us.

  He loosens his hold on my wrist but doesn't let go. "I've always wanted to do this."

  "Do what?" I ask.

  "You know how in movies, when the girl has something on her lips and the guy cleans it off for her?"

  "Yeah." I laugh a little. "It's in every romance movie. Totally cheesy."

  "Is it?" He steps closer.

  "Why can't she just clean it off herself?" I glance away as he lowers my hand to my side, then lets it go.

  "Maybe she'd rather have him do it."

  "Maybe," I say, looking up at him.

  He puts his hand on the side of my face, but hesitates, like he doesn't want to do it.

  "Go ahead," I tell him. "Wipe it off. Your hand's already there."

  "I didn't plan to use my hand." And with that, he leans in, tipping my head back slightly, and slowly licking the chocolate from my mouth. My body is hit with a flood of sensations that reach all the way down to my toes.

  He reaches around my waist and draws me into him, his other hand still holding my head as his lips press against mine for a slow, extremely hot kiss. I breathe out a moan and his tongue slips into my mouth and he takes the kiss deeper. I reach up and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He's so tall, I feel like he's too far away.

  He must read my mind because the next thing I know, his hands grip my waist and he lifts me up onto the kitchen counter. That one move, which he made seem effortless even though I'm sure it wasn't, has got me even hotter for him. My fingers get to work on his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it as we continue to kiss. His hands land on my thighs, sliding my legs apart as he steps up against me. He reaches around my waist and yanks me toward him. His shirt is now completely undone and I run my hands over his smooth, hard chest as our kisses intensify. Hot, deep kisses.

  I sigh in disappointment when his lips pull away, but then smile when I feel them along the side of my neck, kissing their way up to my ear.

  "Tell me when it's too far," he whispers, his hands unbuttoning my shirt.

  I nod, pleased that he said that. Most guys just take without asking, or even considering they might be pushing it too far. Right now, I'm not even sure where to draw the line. I'm so into this, I'm ready to go all the way, desperate to feel that type of intimacy again.

  My shirt is now off and Nash's eyes drop down to my bra, a pink lacy demi-bra I haven't worn in years but for some reason felt the need to wear tonight.

  "You're beautiful," he says, his mouth back at my ear. Then he kisses my neck, his hand moving softly down the length of my arm, then to my waist, then up to my breast. My head drops back as he slips my bra strap off my shoulder, then pushes the fabric down to expose my breast. As soon as I feel his mouth there, I moan and dig my hands in his hair, holding him in place because I don't want him to stop. It's been so long since I've felt this way, and this is even better than I remember. Nash has my entire body responding to his touch, wanting more.

  When I reach down to undo his belt, he puts his hand over mine and looks at me. "What are we doing here?"

  "No questions, remember?" I kiss him.

  "Callie, I'm serious." He takes my hand from his belt and holds it, gently rubbing it with his thumb. "I don't want to do something you're not ready for."

  "Nash, I've done this before. Many times." I could've left off that last part. Makes me sound like a slut. Oh, well. Too late now.

  "That's not what I meant. I just wanted to make sure you—"

  My phone rings, interrupting him. It's sitting next to him on the counter. He picks it up and hands it to me and I see it's Lou calling.

  "I have to answer this," I say to Nash, putting my bra back in place. "He never calls this late. It might be an emergency."

  Nash nods. "Go ahead."

  "Hey, Lou," I say as I answer. "What's going on? Why are you calling so late?"

  "I wondered if you could come in a couple hours early tomorrow? I know it messes up your schedule but I got a last minute order for a hundred cupcakes and she's picking them up at noon. I really need some help getting them frosted."

  "Who would place an order that big on such short notice?"

  "If I tell you, you won't show up."

  I roll my eyes. "Katie?"

  "She's having a baby shower for one of her friends and forgot to order the cupcakes."

  "She needs that many cupcakes for a baby shower?"

  "Apparently she does, because that's how many she ordered. If you can't come in, I'll have to see if Deloris would be willing to help, but I'd rather have you, if you're available. I'll pay you double for the extra hours."

  "You don't have to do th
at. I'll just come in."

  Nash turns away from me and sneezes.

  "Who's that?" Lou asks.

  "Me," I lie. "I sneezed."

  "That wasn't you. That was a man's sneeze. Who do you have over there?"

  "No one." I hop off the kitchen counter and walk into the living room.

  "You got a date tonight?" I hear the smile in his voice.

  "It's not a date," I insist.

  "Then what is it?"

  "Just dinner. I invited someone over for dinner." I glance at Nash who's watching me from the kitchen.

  He smiles at me, then yells, "Hey, Lou."

  I scowl at him and put my finger to my mouth, telling him to keep quiet.

  "Was that Nash?" Lou asks.

  "Yes," I say, still scowling at him.

  "You're dating Nash? When did this happen?"

  I turn my back to Nash. "I'm not dating him. We're just neighbors. And actually, I didn't invite him. He invited himself to dinner. He's really pushy that way." I glance back and see him eating another cookie, shirtless, and looking way too good.

  "Well, I'll let you get back to your date," Lou says. "Thanks for helping me out. See you in the morning."

  "Yeah, okay, but it's not a—" I stop, realizing he's already hung up.

  "It's not a what?" Nash asks, a grin on his face as he comes up to me and wraps his big arms around my waist.

  I sigh. "Now Lou thinks we're dating."

  "Should we?"

  He's serious now and I'm not sure how to answer. I'd like to be in a relationship with him, but then remember all the reasons I shouldn't.

  "No," I blurt out.

  "Why not?" He cups my chin and leans down to give me a barely-there kiss. "I make a good boyfriend. Cards, flowers, sexy texts, romantic evenings. I do all that stuff and more."

  For some reason that makes me smile, probably because I believe him. I think Nash would be a really great boyfriend. Just not for me. For someone who's normal, and lives in Chicago.

  "I'll take care of you when you're sick," he says. "Or injured. I'll fix your car, your house, whatever you need. And foot rubs." He smooths my hair. "I know you like my foot rubs."

  I nod. "Yeah. You definitely have a talent in that area."