“Then what do you call this?” When I go to swipe my thumb over the corner of her mouth, she smacks my hand away. “You’re awfully violent for someone who needs my help.”
“I really don’t have time for your teasing this morning. If you can’t help me, I’ll need to call a ride share.”
I have a better solution. “Tell you what.” I reach over to the counter and grab my keys from the bowl where I keep them. “Why don’t you just drive yourself?”
Her wide eyes fly to mine, and she clutches her purse even tighter. “You want me to drive your truck alone?”
Why not? She’s already proven that she can handle the thing. I lift a shoulder. “Sounds better than having to put on clothes.”
Her quiet chuckle hits me right in the heart. Every time I’ve seen my neighbor, she’s had so much fight. Even when all that shit happened with her ex a few weeks back, she still had a bit of life in her.
This morning, she looks defeated, like a deflated balloon in a puddle with a footprint on top.
Her fingers brush mine when she takes the keys and stuffs them into her too-large purse. “I’ll drive really carefully and fill up your tank.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The tank on the thing is huge, so a trip to the city and back will hardly make a dent.
Her eyes glisten, and she starts to blink rapidly. I assume she’s going to leave, but instead she throws her arms around me for a hug, and my dick gets the wrong idea, swelling enthusiastically against the soft cotton.
“Thank you, Elliot. Thank you so much.”
I draw my hips back so she doesn’t accidentally bump into my very noticeable erection.Next time, put on pants before you answer the door, you idiot.
I retreat into my dark apartment before she can see what’s going on downstairs and shout, “Drive safe.” The closing door cuts off her response.
Adjusting myself, I glare at my tented boxers. “Don’t even think about it. We don’t piss where we eat.” Yeah, she’s cute and the few times we’ve hung out together have been fun, but that is where this thing ends. We can be friends who borrow vehicles and occasionally have dinner. Nothing more needs to come of it. Besides, she is clearly the relationship type, and as much as I hated her calling me a commitment-phobe, she’s not wrong.
I did the whole relationship thing and look how that turned out.
My gaze catches on the spare bedroom’s closed door, and my chest tightens.
I like my very single life. I like bringing women home for a night and then sending them on their merry way after we’re both sated.
Loren moved to a brand-new city for a guy she only knew for a fucking week.
She’s a romantic at heart, looking for love.
I’ve found love and all it did was let me down.
I head back to my bedroom and flop onto my bed. After ten minutes of lying here staring at the ceiling, it’s clear that I’m not going to get back to sleep even though I didn’t get to bed until two this morning.
I reach over to my nightstand and unplug my phone from the charger.
There are a few messages from Mom asking if I want to come over for dinner. I blow her off and say I’m working.
There’s another message from an unknown number that I stupidly click open because I can’t handle seeing those little red notifications anywhere on my screen.
UNKNOWN
We need to talk.
I don’t need to have the number stored in my contacts to know who the cryptic message is from. She has some nerve texting me today of all days. There’s just enough intrigue to keep me dangling on a fucking hook like some pathetic worm.
Deleting a message has never felt so good.
Why is it that every time I start to feel a semblance of peace, the past comes back to haunt me?
The longer I lie in this bed, the more I think about those four words.
