Page 18 of Neighbor Dearest


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“Well, if I wasn’t confused before…now I definitely am.”

“I feel like I need to say this now, because I can’t stand the thought of you thinking that I somehow find you undesirable when it’s exactly the opposite.”

I crossed my arms. “Again. Not following you.”

He closed his eyes as if to try to find the right words. “It’s just that I know for sure that I can’t ever be what someone like you needs in a boyfriend, in a partner. It’s not that we wouldn’t have fun or be great together at first. I’m just not good for you in the long-term—not marriage material. And the reasons are too complex to get into, except to say that it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I can’t, in good conscience, start something with a girl like you.”

“A girl like me…”

“Yes. You’re not the kind of girl a guy takes home for a quick fuck. You’re the girl he keeps.”

Right. Just like Elec did.

“You didn’t have to explain all of this. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Well, if you hadn’t clearly been upset, I might not have said anything. I just don’t believe in beating around the bush with people or leading them on. I’m not like your ex. But I also need you to understand that there’s a difference between not wanting to be with someone and not being able to. I know more than anything, you’re scared to get hurt again. And while I know I would really enjoy crossing the line with you, if I did, I would end up hurting you. I’m not gonna be that guy.”

Feeling a weight on my chest, I said, “Well, I appreciate your honesty. This was a little deeper of a conversation than I expected this early.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I felt like something needed to be said after the way you left. I couldn’t sleep all night, thinking you were upset.”

I swallowed, feeling a numb mixture of sadness and disappointment. Unsure of what to say, I smiled. “Is being friends off-limits, too?”

“Of course not. I feel better about the friends thing now that I explained myself to you. I just don’t want things to be awkward between us, you know, if—”

“If you’re with a girl…” I interrupted.

He nodded. “Or if you’re with a guy.”

Damien had said he felt better, but he didn’t look it. He didn’t look relieved. He looked upset and tense.

And I was more confused than ever.***Brian Steinway was a great all-American guy.

Having relocated from Iowa to the Silicon Valley to take a job at Hewlett Packard, he was fairly new to the Bay Area.

During our coffee date, he listened intently to every word that came out of my mouth and kept telling me how much more beautiful I was in person. He had blond hair and blue eyes and quite frankly, looked like the brother I never had. Brian was sweet and self-deprecating and everything a girl should want on paper.

In our corner couch at the Starbucks on Powell Street, I sipped my latte as we carried on a comfortable conversation amidst the sounds of frothing milk and grinding coffee beans. I pretended to be truly interested in what he was saying, even though thoughts of Damien were ever-present, clouding my head when I should have been giving this sweet man in front of me all of my attention.

I couldn’t help thinking about the fake coffee date that was supposed to be here with Online Damien. Then, I’d quickly remind myself of the conversation we’d had this morning, and it would snap me back to reality. The past twenty-four hours had been like an awkward dream.

As we got up after a full two hours of sitting, Brian took my cup to throw it away. “I’d love to give you a ride home.”

“Sure,” I said without thinking.

Damien would’ve told me that was a bad idea. But he didn’t really have a say. Anyway, I was pretty sure Brian was harmless.

When we made it to my neighborhood, Brian parked a block down from my place. He came around to let me out of the passenger side before walking me toward the building. I didn’t want to invite him upstairs, so I intentionally stopped in the courtyard.

Before I even had a chance to say goodnight, a massive amount of light lit up the night sky. Both blinking, Brian and I looked around at what seemed like stadium lighting that illuminated the courtyard as if we were in the middle of a Friday night football game.

What was going on?

When I looked up, Damien was staring down at us from his second floor window. His arms were crossed. Then, he casually moved out of the way when he saw me glaring up at him.

“What’s up with the lights?” Brian asked.

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