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Merrick
Disappointment is hitting hard.
I’ve got a beer in one hand, a handful of pretzels in the other, and I’m surrounded by my closest friends. Yet I’m completely disappointed that the one person I really want to be here isn’t.
A cheer goes up around the room and Aiden and Gunner high-five over Chloe’s head. There are trays of food covering the coffee table. The low table that sits underneath the wide screen TV is covered as well. My fridge is stuffed full of a variety of beer, there are half a dozen bottles of wine; plenty to keep us all nice and mellow while we watch the game. And all I can do is sit around nursing a beer and worrying that I’ve somehow alienated my neighbor for good.
Neighbor.I need to keep telling myself that he’s just my neighbor.
Married neighbor,I internally correct.
It’s not at all in my nature to become so consumed with wanting someone to like me, especially a man like Davis, who is off limits to me in every single way. I’m usually the guy who doesn’t give a shit, the guy who everyone likes for his easy-going personality and ability to laugh at himself. I’m the fun guy, the life of the party, the person who never takes life outside the office too seriously. And yet here I sit, checking my watch every few minutes, moping like a damn kid who didn’t get his way in dodgeball.
“What’s going on with you today?” Aiden remarks as he crosses the room to where I’m perched on a barstool, away from all the activity.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
He scoffs, dropping a handful of peanuts into his mouth and watching me intently while he chews. Aiden and I have known one another for years, which is why his comment sits uneasily in my stomach. He knows me as well—if not better—than I know myself, and has seen me through all the ups and downs life has thrown my way. I was the best man in his wedding to Chloe three years ago, and I’m certain I’ll be an integral part of their children’s lives, when they finally decide to get off their bums and make that happen. As I tell them often, neither of them is getting any younger.
“You’re not fine, Mer.” He slides onto the stool next to me and drags his fingers through his dark blond hair. “You’re distracted and completely uninvolved with the game and us.” He arches a brow and smirks at me. “Got someone waiting in the wings who is occupying all that free space inside your head?”
I roll my eyes at him and take a long pull off my beer, hoping the distraction will give me a moment to gather my thoughts. What the hell am I supposed to tell him? That my very handsome and very unfriendly neighbor is occupying my headspace far more than he should? If I can’t justify it to myself, how the hell am I supposed to explain it to Aiden?
The ringing of the doorbell sends my nerves to the surface. I quickly hop to my feet in eager anticipation, setting the beer and pretzels aside and leaving Aiden to ponder his own annoying questions. When I reach the front door, I silently count to ten; throw on what I hope is a mask of friendly indifference, and pull the door open.
Davis is standing there with one hand shoved into the pocket of his faded jeans, the other holding a six-pack of my favorite amber ale. Casual in a light gray t-shirt, black hoodie sweatshirt, and tennis shoes, he’s looking at me with a mix of apprehension and anger. The furrow between his brows is damn adorable, but the pale hue to his skin is not. Whatever the reason, my neighbor looks terrified to be standing on my porch.
I smile wide, unable to resist my joy at seeing him standing there. “Hey, Davis. So glad you could make it.”
He shoves the beer towards me. “Wasn’t sure what to bring.”
“Thanks. This is perfect.” Taking a step back, I gesture for him to enter, and try not to inhale—too deeply, that is—the warm, sweet and sexy as hell scent from his skin. It’s a mixture of soap, laundry detergent and an intoxicating fragrance that is his and his alone. He briefly glances around the formal living and entryway and dutifully follows along after me as I move toward the family room.
“I still have a lot of work to do to get settled in.”
“Looks like it.”
We enter the main part of the living quarters and into the family room where everyone is gathered just as one of the teams score. The room erupts in loud hollers and high fives and the occasional celebration dance. I couldn’t care less who wins this game, so I offer Davis an exaggerated eye roll and chuckle at my crazy friends. “They’re a tad bit energetic.”
“Guess so.”
Aiden is still holding court on the stool where I left him, and he immediately gets to his feet and holds out his hand. “Don’t let those idiots scare you off.” All three of us glance at the others, where Gunner and Rolene are doing a do-si-do, showing off as usual. “I’m Aiden.”
“Davis. I live next door.” He returns the handshake, then glances around nervously. “Uh, where should I sit?”
“Sit anywhere you like.” I hand him an opened beer after stashing the others in the fridge. “Make yourself at home. I’ll introduce you to the others as soon as they calm down.”
“Good luck with that,” Aiden remarks. He waits until Davis takes the stool I vacated, then turns slightly and asks, “So, Davis, what do you do?”
“I’m the Service Manager at the Mercedes dealership.”
At least he’ll answer Aiden’s questions.
Leaning against the counter, I attempt to remain a part of their conversation, learning what I can about this man who has avoided me like the plague since the first moment we met.
It takes a few long minutes before Davis asks, “What do you do?”
“Merrick and I work together. We own a physical therapy and rehabilitation center.” He chuckles again and glances at me. “Well, I work. I’m not so sure about my best friend here.”
