by Scott, Kylie
“Come on, have a drink with me.” He smiles boyishly and I can’t help but return the grin.
“I have to work.” I really need to get more words on the page. My editor and publisher have been hounding me for my next manuscript for months. Only for some reason, my muse has gone kaput. She’s been extremely persnickety as of late. Quiet as a mouse. Until this isolation hit and I laid eyes on my new neighbor yesterday while he hollered at assorted people on the phone. Apparently I’m a peeping tom. Who knew? Just last night I completed the entire first chapter of a new novel. Four thousand glorious words on the page. And now, I’m thinking maybe Chapter 2 will entail hot jock having a workout or a shower. I bite down on my lip imagining all that is Evan naked, wet, and in the shower.
My skin heats and I wave a hand in front of my face to help cool me down.
“You just said you work from home. Doesn’t that give you the perfect excuse to play hooky? You’re under quarantine. Come on, live a little.” He waggles his brows before chugging the rest of his bottle.
I purse my lips. “I don’t have any beer.”
This has him grinning wildly and I swear my heart stops. The man is gorgeous when he’s smiling. Bright white teeth. Blue-green eyes. From this distance I still can’t tell exactly what color they are. There’s a good eight feet between our balconies.
“Well it’s a good thing I stocked up. I have plenty of beer. I’ll leave a sixer in front of your door.”
Before I can say no, he disappears through his glass slider.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”
* * *
EVAN
Not even worrying about putting on a shirt, I hit the kitchen and pull out a six-pack for my gorgeous neighbor and an extra bag of Doritos. She’s an interesting one. Doesn’t give away much. Definitely has opinions about Kenny Rogers’s music. I laugh under my breath and tread barefoot to the door. Quickly I set the six pack and Doritos down on the carpet in front of her door and then knock twice before heading back to my current hideout. I’d love nothing more than to stand there with the beer and have her invite me in, but she seems way too smart to let in a stranger, especially when everything on TV and online right now says to avoid all people as best you can.
The city is only allowing its citizens to get food and necessities. Beer is a necessity for me, so I bought two twenty-four packs when I went to the store before I moved in. I had to ensure I had enough to drown my sorrows.
I still haven’t heard anything from the team doctor, or my coach, but it’s only been a couple days. I could call some of my teammates, get the low down on what the word is about me, but frankly, I don’t want to know what people are guessing. I’d rather get the hard-core facts and move on. I just hope to Christ that moving on means going back to my team—and not moving on to an entire new career.
My dad would be crushed. He lives and breathes his son playing the game professionally. Tells all his buddies back home in Indiana about my career. He even roots for the Oakland Marauders while everyone in Indiana bleeds blue and silver for the Mustangs. Still, my dad takes all the heat from his brethren with a smile on his face and his chest puffed up in pride.
Visiting the fridge once again I pull out two cold ones and grab the other bag of Doritos. I gave her the Nacho Cheese variety because it’s the safer choice. Everyone likes the nacho cheese blend, but not everyone loves the Cool Ranch. I’m an equal opportunity Dorito lover myself so I can go either way.
Cradling my loot, I head back onto the patio and set the beers on the side table. Then I rearrange my chair so I’m facing Sadie’s balcony. I ease into my seat and wait.
And wait.
A full ten minutes and one full beer down the hatchet before she finagles her body out the slider, ass-first, dragging something along with her. Aw, a folding chair. It didn’t dawn on me that she didn’t have any seats on her balcony.
“Whatcha doin’ over there?” I stand and lean on the edge of my railing while watching her push and pull a chair, the six pack, and the bag of Doritos all out at once.
And she’s changed her top. She was wearing a hoodie before. Now she’s got on a long-sleeve V-neck purple top that clings to her ample bosom. They’re not huge tits, but definitely a small handful. Just right if the lush expanse of cleavage I’m seeing is anything to go by. My dick stirs in my jeans and I palm it once, then shift it a bit to give the sucker a bit more room. While she’s busy, I unbutton the top button and sigh at the slight centimeter more of space.
Her hair is now pulled into a high messy bun when before she’d had it down, the golden waves falling all over her shoulders. I prefer it down, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Eventually she spins around, sets her beer on the ground, and flops into the chair. “Whew! Okay. And thanks for the Doritos.”
“And the beer,” I add good naturedly because who forgets about free beer?
“Oh yeah, and that. I’m more of a snack type of gal so you win extra neighbor-in-quarantine-points for the chips.”
“So, the way to your heart is through your stomach? Good to know.”
She rips open the bag, pulls out an orange square, and puts the entire thing into her mouth. Damn! Wonder what else she can put whole into her mouth.
Once again, my cock takes notice but this time it goes full-out, hardening painfully against the denim of my jeans. For a full minute I think of Gloria scratching my eyes out and killing me in my sleep. Instantly, Mr. Happy takes a breather and settles more comfortably to half-mast.
I sit down, rip open my bag, and suck down a huge swallow of beer. The sun is starting to peek its way through the gray of the morning and my mood is lifting. Having a drink and a snack with a beautiful woman, a little sunshine, a great view… Maybe this quarantine thing will be all right.
At least for today.
“Okay then. Tell me something about yourself that nobody knows.” I crunch on another ranch-coated chip.
“Wow. You go straight for the gusto.”
I shrug. “Only way to play. Live out loud. It’s my motto.” Though fuck if that motto’s done me well this past year.
“Hmm, okay, sparky. I’ll play.”
“Sparky? How do you know my name? Did you hear something about me?” Dread coats my throat as I narrow my gaze on my neighbor who’s sitting cross-legged in her folding chair facing me with a strange expression marring her pretty face.
“Uh, no, dude. Calm down. Why? Should I recognize you?”
“Shit, I’m sorry. That came out wrong. My last name is Sparks. Uh, just figured maybe Jake talked some shit about me.” I attempt to redirect the conversation.
“No way! I’m a freakin’ genius.” She smiles wide and gulps down some beer. “Wonder if I’ve turned psychic overnight? That would be cool.”
I pay close attention to see if she is lying through her teeth, but she seems genuine.
“Honestly, that was completely coincidental, but now you’re never gonna live it down.”
“Back to you. Something no one knows about you. Go.” I sip my beer and lean back while crossing an ankle over my knee.
She chomps on her chips heartily. I’m kind of surprised. The women I’ve dated aren’t so real. They never eat much. Drink prissy fifteen-dollar drinks and never dress comfortably. I can’t remember the last time I saw a beautiful woman in a pair of sweatpants and a simple, albeit sexy as hell, long-sleeve shirt.
“I once had to parachute out of a plane that was about to crash.” She deadpans.
“Shut the fuck up? Seriously?” I’m beyond impressed.
Her eyes widen and she bursts out laughing. “No. That’s Mission Impossible-level theatrics. I just wanted to see if you’d bite. And it’s safe to say, Sparky, you bit. Hard. I got you so good with that one!” She dances in her chair and drinks more of her beer.
“Practical joker, I see. Well you realize this means I’m going to have to get you back when you least expect it.”
She smiles and win
ks. “I’d like to see you try, buddy.”
For the next couple of hours and three more beers for me—I count two for her—we shoot the shit. Never actually talking about anything of value, just being friendly and taking jabs at one another whenever we can.
As the sun is cresting over the horizon, she stands up and stretches her body. I watch in fascination as her tits rise and I catch a slip of skin at her small, rounded abdomen. The woman isn’t a hard body, but she’s soft in all the right places. Chest. Ass. Hips. Thighs.
My normal type is statuesque—fake tits, lips, and skin tone. This girl, she’s real. Everywhere.
And I fucking like what I see more than I should.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she teases, smiling. “I’ve had fun but I really do need to get back to work.”
“Okay. Good luck. And Sadie?” I call out while she’s pushing her chair back into her home.
“Yes, Evan?”
“I had a good time. Thanks for keeping me company.”
“You’re welcome.” Her cheeks turn pink as she pushes a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Sadie?” I call out again.
She chuckles and looks my way. “Yes, Evan.” She enunciates my name.
“Same time tomorrow?” I suggest with my own laughter but in reality, I’d like nothing more than having a standing balcony date with the intriguing neighbor.
“We’ll see. Have a good night. Be safe.”
“You too.”
I watch her until I’m left with the sunset, the nice breeze, and my thoughts. I smile out at the view. For the first time since I stepped into Jake’s apartment and this city, I no longer feel quite so alone.
CHAPTER 3
QUARANTINE: DAY 3
EVAN
I AWKWARDLY MANEUVER THE WEIGHT bench onto the open space on the balcony. Luckily the sun is out and it’s a fine sixty-degree morning in the Bay. I glance over at Sadie’s balcony and see the sheer c[urtains firmly closed. Then I head back inside to get the six weights that go with the bench.
It was dumb luck finding a brand new, still-in-the-box weight bench in the spare room closet. I went in there to ride the bike this morning, but I didn’t want to miss a potential sighting—or date as I’ve taken to calling them in my mind—with Sadie, the hot, mysterious, and hilariously funny neighbor. When I was scanning the space, I found an entire set of weights stacked in the corner with a blanket tossed over them.
I shake my head, lift two forty-five pounders, and bring them outside. “Poor Jake,” I mumble, thinking of my friend working abroad.
Bastard is always working his ass off. Going from saving one human to the next. Part of me thinks he does it so he doesn’t have to save himself. Losing his sister the way he did—in a water rafting trip when we were just teenagers—changed him. After her death, he set his mind to becoming a doctor and saving the world. Only who was saving Jake? Definitely not a beautiful woman who could warm his bed, support his career, and love him for the great guy he is.
Maybe Sadie has a friend?
Shit, maybe Sadie has already seen my good-looking friend Jake naked?
Fucking hell. Maybe they’ve dated!
Once I set down the weights and head inside for the others, I pull my cell phone from my loose workout shorts and bring up the text messages. Not being one for math, I don’t attempt to figure out what time it is in Africa. If I knew the time difference, I would have called his ass immediately.
From: Evan
To: Jake
You ever date your neighbor Sadie?
I read the short message over and over before hitting send, praying they’ve never dated and most certainly have never seen one another naked. I grind my teeth at the mere thought of another man seeing her bare flesh.
He better not have. Bro-code means I can’t go there if he has, and after yesterday, I’m definitely interested in going there. Repeatedly.
Lifting the rest of the weights, I head outside. Once I’m on the balcony and the gear is set up, I remove my white T-shirt and work out. I start off with the dumbbells and do a series of arm curls before switching to a crossbody hammer curl. Next, I stretch my arms out to the sides and lift the weights in a dumbbell deadlift maneuver. Once those are complete, I lunge holding the fifteen pounders in each hand. Then it’s all about the squats.
By this time, I’m sweating profusely. It’s a good forty minutes into my workout and still no sighting of Sadie. A wave of sadness has me sitting on the bench which I strategically placed so I’d face her home, so I’d see her the moment she came out. Since when do I get emotional about a girl I barely know? Since they put us in lockdown, I guess. The TV only offers a little comfort and companionship. But even porn gets boring after a while. Not that I’ve been in the mood for it lately. Too much shit on my mind.
Lying down, I lift the dumbbells and do my standard bench press with smaller weights before taking a break to jog in place. I need mindless activity, focusing on my breath and the view. Getting antsy for Sadie, I jog around the weight bench in a circle and then reverse it, checking her balcony every lap.
Nothing.
I know she’s there. Why isn’t she coming out? She could wave, say hello…something. Maybe she didn’t have as much fun drinking and shooting the shit as I did yesterday. I thought we hit it off. But perhaps I’m imagining things. Damn.
Grinding to a halt, I suck in large breaths of clean, crisp, ocean air until my heart calms down.
Why do I care anyway if she comes out? It’s not like I need her to be entertained. I’ve done this workout a thousand times before. Granted it’s usually in a huge workout space with my buddies around me. Speaking of which… None of them have even attempted to call me.
What the fuck kind of brotherhood is that?
My mood hits the pits. I pull my phone back out and rest my ass on the bench.
First call I make is to Robby, the happiest guy on the team. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Always smiling, never down. He’s the guy on the team everyone uses as their personal therapist because he’s so even-keeled.
He answers on the first ring. “What?” He answers with fire in his tone, something I’ve never heard in the few years I’ve known him.
“Hey, Robby. It’s Sparks. Just wanted to check in on the team, man. Take the temperature, you know?”
A solid twenty seconds of silence fills my ears before he eventually says, “I can’t fucking believe you. ’Roids? What were you thinking?”
“Excuse me? No, Robby, I didn’t do—”
“I saw the pictures, man. We all saw them. Then we found out you had steroids in your locker. How dare you make a mockery of the sport. Making our team look bad. All those kids that look up to you. I expected more from you. So much more from the team’s—hell, the NFL’s—best running back. Now we find out your stellar record and performance were because you were juicing!”
“You’ve got it all wrong!” I attempt, but he’s undeterred.
“Fuck you, man. Fuck you. I hope you lose it all.” He blasts me before hanging up.
I let the phone drop from my hand. It hits the concrete, but thankfully doesn’t break.
Robby. One of the only guys I expected to give me the benefit of the doubt—hates my guts. Believes I took the easy way out.
“Fuck me!” I roar, spearing my fingers into my hair and tugging at the roots. The bite of pain hits and I wince. “How could this happen. I didn’t fucking do it! Jesus!”
My phone buzzes against the concrete. With hope in my heart, I grab the phone and answer it without seeing who it is.
“Robby?”
“Nah, man, it’s Levi. How the hell are you?” His voice is a much-needed brotherly balm coating my frantic mind and heart. Levi is my best friend on the team and also a running back. Second for my position. Though probably first right now. At least it’s him and not some other schmuck that’s filling in. I trust him implicitly.
“Brother, everything is so jacked up. I didn’t juice an
d I know I didn’t do any of those drugs at that party. I was set up. I swear to God!”
“Shit, man. I don’t know what to say… But I believe you. You work damn hard. This is crazy. Add in the quarantine and everything is tits-up.”
I rub my forehead, slicking off the remaining drops of drying sweat, and look up to see if Sadie has made an appearance.
No dice.
Sighing, I lie back on the bench with the phone pressed to my ear. “Levi, I’m scared.”
“I can imagine, brother. This situation is no joke. Who do you think is setting you up?”
I shake my head and close my eyes against the sun’s bright rays. “I don’t know. Most of the team are like brothers to me. Maybe it’s someone on another team. Another player wanting to win against us? Or maybe another running back in the league who wants to take me out and have his record rise above mine? Fuck! You have no idea how frustrating this is. I can’t even clear my name.”
“Where are you anyway? Before the quarantine I tried to stop by your place. It was packed with paparazzi.”
“At a friend’s place. Laying low like Polly demanded.”
“Aw, Polly. Such a hellcat, that one. What I wouldn’t give to dip my wick in that piece of sweet cherry pie.”
I chuckle. Polly is beautiful. A redhead with clear blue eyes and a stellar rack. A petite spitfire who would just as soon cut off your balls and feed them to the wolves, all the while buttering you up for a press conference.
“You couldn’t handle Polly,” I say. “She’d eat you alive.”
He laughs and it lifts me up a little.
“But what a way to go.” His voice drips with innuendo.
That has me laughing. “Hey, thanks for calling. You’ve made me feel a bit better. At least not everyone hates me. I just got done chatting with Robby and he basically shoved a stake through my heart. The guy believes I did it. Which kills, man, fucking kills.”
“I know, brother. Just stay strong. I’m sure it will all come out all right. Are you being safe, staying inside with the virus?”
