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Just my luck.
“Thanks 4 the pic of the house,” it reads.“The snowman looks gr8!U can’t tell me u did that on your own.”
I laugh at Freya’s text, recalling my feeble efforts before Nicholas joined me.“Got some help from the kid next door,” I write.
“4 real?How sweet.How r they doing?”
My brow furrows a bit at the word “they.”
Is she up to something?You can never be sure with Freya.
But I shake off the feeling.
“Good.His dad just picked him up for the holiday,” I tap in, but then quickly delete that last sentence.If Freya knew that Ava wasalonenext door, her brain would start clicking.Some things are inevitable.
So I simply reply “Good” and leave it at that.
I see the text bubble on her end giving me the signal that she’s writing something.So I wait for a moment, half expecting her to follow up with a text that reads,“You should take her out to dinner”or something similar.
That’s generally the way it goes with her.She’s always trying to set me up with women.
What’s strange is that I’m almost hoping she’ll reply with something like that.I’d love to get a nudge—or several—to push me in that direction.Ava’s cute and sweet and is capable of raising a pretty amazing kid.
Add to that she makes kick-ass chicken and dumplings.
Hell, I’d be crazynotto want to date her.
I find myself shaking my head, trying to imagine whether a single mom would even want to risk any expenditure of energy on a guy who’s barely even around and moving in six months anyway.
Hell, that wouldn’t even be fair to her kid.
When Freya doesn’t reply, I step out into the cold in my t-shirt and shorts, despite the snow on the ground.I’ll stay plenty warm running my usual six miles, and I even find myself throwing in a seventh for good measure.
Because when I’m running, my mind clears.At least, usually it does.
But I can’t stop thinking about Ava.
There’s an imbalance between us that I find unsettling.So far, she’s made me dinner and bought me a Christmas tree… and I’ve done exactly nothing for her in return.
How do I reciprocate the good neighbor thing when the neighbor happens to be cute, single, and probablynotinterested in me?
When I step back into my apartment, my phone rings.I see Mason’s name pop up.
“Hey, Mason,” I answer.
“Hey.”He sounds a little… off.
“What’s up?”
“I, uh, just wanted to make sure you’re still joining us for Christmas dinner.”
“If I’m still invited.”
“Definitely.Just thought I’d make sure.Oh, and uh, thanks for the pictures of the house.”
“Yeah.You owe me for that one.I felt like a douche making a snowman at my age.If the neighbor hadn’t come over, I’d have given up.”
“Nicholas?Yeah, he’s a sweet kid.But watch out, man.His school’salwaysgot him selling something like wrapping paper or tins of popcorn.I’m sure you’ve probably picked up on that by now.”
