“Beautiful day out.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, clutching my shell as I wait for the insults to spew. Seriously, I dumped soaked toilet paper all inside his truck, then he caught me ogling him in the pool. And now he’s pretending to be all nice?
Instead, he glances up at the sky. Luckily, a few more clouds have blanketed the sun as it makes its way above the houses. He scratches his head. “You always wear shades?”
“Pretty much.” Yeah, I suck at small talk, especially when I’m hugging myself waiting for that shoe to drop.
“I bet you could see all the colors in that sunrise a lot better without those shades. And maybe let the world see you, too.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass.” Whatever he’s working up to, no way I’m falling for it.
He takes a step toward me, his freshly shaved jawline gleaming in the morning light. “You’re not hiding from anyone, are you?”
I inch a few steps toward my house. “Yeah, I gotta go.” Sprinting the last few steps toward my house, I duck through my fence, then rush inside my house, holding my breath all the way until I lock my door and sink back against it. “Weird. Just weird.” I shake my head. One minute, he’s an ass, the next he’s pretending to be all nice.
Still shaking my head, I trudge to my bathroom for a long, hot shower. By the time I finish drying off and pull on my pajamas, my stomach is growling full force. Not just those little noises, no it’s going full on ‘let’s wake the dead’ force.
“Guess I probably should eat breakfast,” I mutter, tugging on my slippers and robe before padding my way back to the kitchen.
Staring at my empty fridge, then the sink with only one dirty mug and solitary spoon, I wonder if I ate at all today.
Probably not.
I turn back to the fridge, yank it open again and sigh. There’s no bacon, sausage, or yogurt. I’m also all out of bread and orange juice. “Looks like I’m going grocery shopping tonight.” I’d go now but pajamas, wet hair, sun, I’m exhausted after a long night pretending to work. I could make up a few more excuses, but bottom line, I’m not leaving the house until the sun starts setting. I’m not avoiding the hot yet mercurial guy next door, just being practical.At least, that’s the excuse I stick with as I open my small pantry.
Scrounging around a little more, I find a few overly ripe bananas. “Banana pancakes it is.”
Once my belly is blissfully full and dishes cleaned, I pull all of my blinds shut, then make my way to my bedroom. I cocoon myself in my heavy blankets and fall back against my fluffy pillow. Dreams of half-naked men be damned, I need to at least try and get some decent sleep today. I’m not sure I can afford yet another unproductive night, especially at the frequency it’s been happening.
With one more glare toward my window, I shake my head and shut my eyes. Maybe if I just think about unicorns everything will be fine.
Mug in hand, I stareout the dining room window hours later after yet another restless sleep.There were at least unicorns in my dreams. Well, one white unicorn, with a topless, blond god riding it.
Pursing my lips, I shake off the dream, forcing my attention out the window. The beat down, red truck sits parked in front of the driveway again. But it wasn’t there this morning and he was, so I can’t really use it as a good gauge. Maybe if I sneak out front and head straight to my car, I can avoid him.
I nod, satisfied with the only plan my sleep deprived brain can muster.
Sneak out of my own house.
Yep, that’s what I'm going with. I drain the last few sips of my chai, then set my mug in the sink. Grabbing my hat and sunglasses from the table near the back door, I roll my eyes.
I shouldn’t have to sneak out of my own house. It’s not like the asshole is standing outside waiting for me, besides he was kind of nice this morning. Weird, but decent enough. Shrugging, I pull my baseball cap on, grab my keys and purse, then head out the front door.
A large crash has me cringing before I’m even down the steps. There’s another crash, drawing my attention to the one house I was trying to avoid.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite, little voyeur,” that all too familiar voice laughs. Wearing a different pair of jeans and flannel shirt than he had on this morning, he tosses a few more broken pieces of something that I’m pretty sure was once part of his house in the giant dumpster that’s been sitting in his yard for the last week and a half. Wiping his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, he smiles at me. “You know, you’d get a better view if you came over and joined me.”
There it is,the shoe I’ve been waiting to drop.
I turn my attention to the house behind him. Someone else was there last night, swimming with him. Probably whatever mysterious girlfriend, wife, or whoever he lives with, that I still haven’t seen. My blood boils in my veins. Does he honestly think I’m that naive or stupid?
“Yeah, I prefer not to be the third leg.” I go for direct, no beating around the bush, no pretending I don’t know.
He chuckles, his eyes following mine to his house. “There’s always room for you. Trust me, little girl, the more the merrier.”
He doesn’t even deny it. I shake my head in disgust. “You’re a pig.”
“Better than being a prude.”