Page 40 of The Man Next Door
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Gavin laughed when he caught me cheating. I loved his laugh, so full of life, so hearty and real. It was nice to see sometimes because there was so much darkness in him, darkness I sometimes couldn’t see through. I didn’t know his story yet, but I desperately wanted to. I knew if I was patient, he’d let me in one day. I just needed to be a good friend.
“What?” I said, feigning innocence.
“I saw you.” A smile traced his beautiful lips. “You were looking at the letters.”
The bag of letters was still in my hand. “Busted.”
He shot me a sweet grin.
“It’s not fair,” I pointed out. “You’re so much better at this game than I am. And you’re also ten years older than me.” We didn’t often mention our age difference because we didn’t like to think about it.
“Yeah, I might just be a lowly mechanic who fixes junk for a living, but I’m kind of a whiz with words.”
I gazed over at all the books filling the bookcase and lining the walls. “Yes, you’re a closet bookworm. I promise I won’t tell.”
He killed me with a triple word score. “That’s punishment right there, kid.”
I hated it when he called me kid. I wanted him to see me as a woman, not a kid, but he just refused to. No matter how much make-up I put on, how tight I wore my jeans, he put on his blinders, refusing to really look at me. Once, I showed up in one of Izzie’s low cut tops, and he handed me one of his sweaters and ordered me to wear it.
He made us mugs of hot cocoa after our game. He slipped an ounce or two of Baileys cream in his, and when I begged for some, he told me I was too young to drink.
I loved it at Gavin’s place. The wood stove was so cozy in the winter, and I even had my favorite throw I’d bury myself into. He played music on his stereo, and we’d play board games. Scrabble was his favorite. And Mastermind was mine. It certainly beat the toxic vibe at my place. My dad and brothers were always bickering. When they weren’t putting me down, they’d treat me like their own personal maid. I did all the cleaning and the cooking. I drew the line at laundry. I didn’t do anyone’s dirty laundry but mine.
When I was at Gavin’s, they thought I was at Izzie’s. They were too self-involved to even consider the possibility that I might be lying.
Izzie wasn’t in on the deception. I never told her about Gavin because I knew she liked him. He’d brushed her off a few times, and she’d given up. “He’s just an old stupid weirdo anyway,” she’d said.
I was secretly thrilled when she abandoned her chase. He was all mine. And I respected him so much for resisting her advances. Most single men couldn’t have. Heck, even the married ones would have been hard pressed not to fall under her spell.
Although Izzie did become curious. “Why don’t you come over anymore?” she asked one day on the school bus. “I never see you anymore, outside of school. Abe and my mom miss you.”
Little Abe. I missed him too. And Adele. I missed her spaghetti and watching rom-coms with her. I felt bad. “I’ll come over tonight. How about that?”
Izzie perked up. “I’ll ask my mom to buy us junk food. It’ll be fun.”
“Is your uncle Pete going to be there?”
“Why? What’s the big deal if he is?”
I didn’t want her to know I didn’t like her uncle Pete, her dad’s younger brother. I found him annoying and kind of creepy. He was too touchy and too familiar. I’d often want to scream “Get a life, dude, and leave us alone.”
I knew I was walking a fine line. I had to separate my time between Izzie and Gavin because if she became suspicious, she would cause trouble. And if there was one thing Izzie was, amongst many things, was nosy.
I knew if she were to find out how close Gavin and I were, all hell would break loose.
* * *
When I wakein the morning, Noah is still sleeping, with his back to me. I want to touch him. I slide my hand up his beautiful back, and my eyes are greedy. I notice another tattoo I’d completely missed on the back of his other shoulder, a music note. I smile.
He jerks around suddenly, and steals my breath away.
“Morning,” I say, cheerful.
He rubs his eye. “Morning.”
He’s just as breathtaking with mussed up hair and sleep in his eyes. I’m at a loss for words. And so is he.
