Neighbors With Benefits

3 - Aiden

3

Aiden

One Day Earlier

“Your serve,” I told Bash, tossing him the wiffle ball. “No pressure.”

He caught the ball and took his spot behind the line on the Pickleball court. “Ten to five. Match point.”

Bash served, and our opponent hit his return at me. I stepped into a forehand shot, firing it cross-court to the other opponent and using the momentum to move closer to the net. By the time he was hitting it back at us, I was in the perfect position to smash the ball for a winner.

We shook hands with our opponents, then chest-bumped in victory. After notifying the scorekeeper table of the final score, we went inside to get celebratory beers. This was the third week in the Pickleball tournament, and we were undefeated.

“This was worth leaving the housewarming party early,” Bash said.

“You wanted to stay?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was having a good time. And Jazz seems cool.”

“Better than our old neighbor,” I muttered. “I swear he was a CIA agent or something.”

“CIA agents are supposed to blend in,” Bash pointed out. “Jerry was a grumpy recluse who yelled at anyone who drove by faster than ten miles per hour.”

“He was weird. Jazz is an upgrade for sure.”

He clinked his beer to mine. “Cheers to that. And speaking of women, did Carmen text you while we were playing?”

I shook my head. Pickleball had taken my mind off things, but we were supposed to hear back from Carmen by now. The longer it dragged out, the more I was certain she would reject our proposal.

“She’ll text eventually,” Bash said. “And if not, we’ll find someone else.”

“Someone else open to… our situation?” I asked doubtfully. “Yeah, right.”

Bash clapped me on the shoulder. “Good things come to those who wait, my friend. Everything will work out.”

“You always say that.”

“Because things always work out.”

“Spoken like someone who has never failed at anything in his life,” I replied.

Bash pointed at me with his beer. “Oh, I fail all the time. But here’s the secret about failure: it’s not permanent. You get to try again. Unless you’re, like, an ancient Roman gladiator or something. Then failure leads to death.”

“You’re not doing a good job of reassuring me.”

“That’s not my job,” he countered. “But trust me: everything will work out.”

I trusted Bash on pretty much everything in life, but I didn’t trust him now. He was imbued with boundless optimism, which was why he was such a good negotiator at work. But he had led a relatively privileged life. His dad paid for his college, and all four of his grandparents were still alive. It was easy for him to think everything would always work out.

The rest of us had to live in reality.

We ordered burgers at the bar—our post-victory tradition—and then went home. It was a Saturday night, but neither of us wanted to go out. Especially not while waiting for Carmen to get back to us. So we cracked open some beers and put on a movie.

I checked her profile on the dating app again. There wasn’t anything new, nothing unusual that would explain why she hadn’t responded to me in almost two days.

“Will you stop checking your phone?” Bash complained after a little while. “It’s making me antsy.”

“I still think we should have waited until Dante was home,” I said. “Maybe that’s why Carmen hasn’t replied.”

“Dante doesn’t matter. We’re all on the same page, and we know what he likes. Aiden, you’re going to drive yourself insane if you keep thinking about it. Seriously, just turn your phone off and enjoy the movie. Here, I’ll put mine away, too.”

He extended his palm to take my phone, but I didn’t want to do that. So I got up and said, “Talking about Dante reminded me that I still need to water the plants. Keep the movie running—you don’t need to pause it.”

“You’re going to text her, aren’t you?” Bash demanded.

“I don’t have her number. I messaged her on the dating app and gave her mine. You know how it works.”

“Good thing,” Bash muttered. “Otherwise you would’ve texted her a hundred times and scared her off by now. Just remember: everything will work out.”

We had a large patio with plenty of hanging plants, plus a massive garden in the backyard. Dante had left us very specific plant watering instructions while he was out of town for the next month; different plants got watered on different days, which varied depending on if we got any natural rain.

As I watered the plants, I wished I had been born with Bash’s optimism. It would be nice to put on a smile and just assume everything would go my way. But that’s not how the real world worked. Bash just didn’t know it yet.

A sense of calmness came over me while taking care of the plants. It always seemed weird to me that a hot-blooded guy like Dante would take up a hobby like horticulture, but now I kind of understood why he did it. Maybe taking care of these plants was the only activity that actually kept Dante sane.

The text finally came when I was almost done watering the garden. I almost dropped the watering can in the rush to pull my phone out of my pocket:

UNKNOWN : Hi! I hope I’m not replying too quickly, but I’ve considered your offer and want to take you up on it. Are you home right now?

I laughed out loud. Replying too quickly? It had been two days! But more importantly, she was agreeing to the offer I had extended to her. Relief soothed my body and settled into my bones as I replied in a rush. I had a really good buzz going, but I managed to respond without any typos.

Me : I’m really glad you texted! Dante’s not here right now, but we can discuss everything without him. Just to confirm the basics before you come over: you’ll be dating all three of us. You get to choose who, and how often. You also get to decide what level of relationship with each of us: emotional, intellectual, sexual. And if it is sexual, you get to decide whether you hook up with us individually, all together, or any combination in between. Basically, you’re the woman running the show. We’re comfortable with anything. If this sounds good, then come on over so we can discuss further!

UNKNOWN : I’m confused. This is Jazz, next door. Aiden Rush left me this phone number with a pie.

The relief I felt disappeared and was replaced with a frigid sense of dread.

This wasn’t Carmen.

This was Jazz, the new girl next door.

I re-read the text I had sent, my dread expanding with every word.

Oh no .

I paced along the side of the garden, wondering what I should do. If I told Bash, he would say it was my fault for worrying so much. Adrenaline flooded my veins, sobering me up quickly and making my hands shake.

I just told my neighbor that we want to share…

I shook my head. A plan formed in my head, and my fingers trembled as I typed out a response.

Me : I don’t know who Aiden is. You have the wrong number.

The three little dots appeared, indicating that she was typing a response. They disappeared, then appeared again. This happened over and over for the next few minutes, before finally she sent a one-word response:

Jazz : Sorry

I sighed with relief. That would work. She would believe I had given her the wrong number, and would assume it was some random guy with a Philadelphia area code who had responded.

I repeated Bash’s mantra out loud to myself until I believed it: “Everything will work out. Everything will work out. Everything will work out. ”

“You look paler than a hard-boiled egg,” Bash said when I went back inside. “You didn’t kill one of Dante’s plants, did you? Because he might literally stab you.”

“No, the plants are fine. I just…”

Bash paused the movie and twisted on the couch to give me his full attention. “Carmen replied, didn’t she?”

“I…”

With divine timing, my phone vibrated in my pocket at that exact moment. And sure enough, it was the woman we had been waiting to hear from.

UNKNOWN : Hi Aiden, this is Carmen, from the polyamorous dating app. I have to say that your offer is REALLY appealing, but I don’t think it’s what I’m looking for right now. I hope you understand.

I held out the phone for Bash to read. He grimaced, then shrugged.

“Damn. The search continues. You’d better tell Dante.”

“Right.” I took a screenshot of the message and texted it to the third member of our house. Within ten seconds, he replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

“Always a man of few words,” I muttered.

Carmen’s text made me sad—I really thought she might be a good candidate for what the three of us wanted. But I was more relieved that I’d managed to fix the situation with Jazz. It would’ve sucked to destroy our chance to be friends with our new neighbor.

Now I just had to act normal around her.

My first opportunity came the next night when I was rolling the trash cans to the curb. Jazz suddenly called out my name, and came running over like she was excited to see me.

Be cool, Aiden. She doesn’t know anything. If you act normal, she’ll never suspect anything.

Except I wasn’t cool. I was bad at lying. And after a few attempts to ask for my number, I could tell she was getting suspicious.

“Are you hiding something?” she finally asked.

Defeated, I turned around and gave her my number. And since she was suspicious, she immediately dialed it.

The phone rang in my pocket.