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“What is it?”
Her excitement is infectious, and I can’t help but smile as she takes a deep breath and announces, “There’s a pool back there!”
My eyes snap to Logan.
“Don’t worry, it’s got a steel cover. Completely safe. It’s on my side of the yard, but you’re more than welcome to use it.”
Funny how he calls it a yard. It makes as much sense as calling a football field a yard.
“Awesome! Auntie Kim,” she roars, running back, “We’re allowed to use the pool.
“Well, not today,” I call after her, but she’s already gone. Then my brain finally catches up, and I swear, my heart stutters in my chest. “Wait.Yourside of the yard?”
He tips his head toward the house with the black door. “This one’s mine.”
I’m going to hyperventilate.
Neighbors.
With Logan.
“You live here?”
“Who did you think lived here?”
“I don’t know.”
Not you.
The air becomes thick, struggling to fill my burning lungs. I’m not sure if having Logan as a neighbor terrifies me or if I just don’t want to accept the unexpected comfort my mind feels.
The warm smile he offers fills my chest with a strange sense of relief. “Let me show you around.”
∞∞∞
“It’s really beautiful here,” I say.
He hands me a bottle of water as he steps out onto the deck of his house. I feel his curious eyes on me as I open the bottle and take a sip of the icy water, deciding to keep my gaze forward.
His shoulder brushes against mine, and I wish he would step away. Not that I don’t like the contact, but I shouldn’t.
Male touch is foreign to me, especially one so innocent.
“Thanks for letting us visit.”
“Is this all it is then? A visit?” He shifts his weight in his boots, hands delving into the pockets of his jeans. His gaze drifts to the grass. Over the top of his sunglasses, the shades of green reflect off the lenses.
Mulling over his question, I let it stew for a long minute. I wait for the panic to take hold, for the anxiety to wrap around my throat so I know that this is a terrible idea. But then I look at the girls picking daisies in the grass, giggling together. Hannah’s smile is so big, it stretches across the open land until it plants itself on my face.
I didn’t get any of those nasty feelings inside the house. I don’t get them around Logan either. It feels like my childhood home—safe and warm, like nothing can harm us inside those four walls. It’s our bubble.
I search for more reasons, not trusting the zing of excitement in my gut. We’ll be on this land with Logan. Just two houses, side by side, two completely different stories.
But neighbors don’t have to be best friends, and I’m sure he works a lot.
But what about when he’s not working? Specifically, the nights when he's home. Does he want the sounds of two little girls seeping through his windows as he kisses his hot date goodbye.
I’m making assumptions, but it just seems odd.
