16. Rosie
Chapter 16
Rosie
“R osie Braxton!” My grandmother gapes, hands on her hips, as she watches me take another bite of her cheesecake straight from the dish. “That’s for the neighbors!”
“Dane Daniels and Nash Wells are our new neighbors,” I mumble around cake-filled cheeks. They don’t get cake.
Grandma Lily’s eyes widen. “Well, cut me a slice, and I’ll pour the bourbon.”
She shuffles around the kitchen, starting coffee and pulling down the hard liquor while I stare into the void. I swallow the too-big bite, but even salted caramel can’t erase Dane Daniels. His scent is everywhere, invading all my senses. Dane smells like fall leaves and crisp air laced with leather and spiced apples. It was something I didn’t need to know because now I’m never gonna forget it.
Ugh. This can’t be real. Those two can’t be the hot neighbors. I mean, they’re both admittedly hot, but how in the cosmic fuck did this happen? And why did I decide to go over there practically naked and yell at them on the lawn?
Did Dane Daniels try to kiss me? I think he tried to kiss me. Why did he try to kiss me?
Oh gods.
I shoved him!
And Nash… Nash looked horrified to see me.
My stomach cramps at the memory of his gaze. It was so much worse seeing him than I thought.
No. Actually, I refuse to accept this reality. I want a respawn on this map. They can’t live next door. I won’t allow it.
I throw my head back and groan. “Why do the gods hate me?”
Grandma Lily passes me the bourbon, but I wave her off.
“I make enough stupid choices on my own. Give me that and I’ll probably try to move in next door. Besides, that stuff gives me a headache.”
She shrugs and pours a little into her empty mug. “Suit yourself. A little hair of the dog always fixes me right up.”
“You lush,” I joke as I cut her a slice.
The old coffee pot gurgles, announcing it’s done, and I pour myself a cup. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now. How do I sleep when those two are next door?
Grandma Lily eyes the back porch, then me. “To the den?”
“Yes,” I say, disgruntled.
It’s either house arrest or risk running into them. I guess I’m entering my shut-in era. That’s fine. I’m adaptive. I can make a collection of fabulous house gowns and finally learn to wear hats.
I abandon the cake and take my coffee to the den. Wrapping the blanket from the back of the couch around me, I fold myself crisscrossed on the floor. Grandma Lily settles in her chair, and for long minutes, she sips her drink and eats her cake while I contemplate the feasibility of a memory wipe.
Eventually, the cake runs out, and my grandma asks, “What are you gonna do?”
I look at her as though she’s lost it. “There’s only one option here! I’m going to pretend for the rest of eternity that the house next door is part of the void, not perceivable, not to me.”
My grandma chuckles. “We could always sell?”
“Definitely. We should pack up. I hear the West Coast is nice,” I deadpan. No matter how much I don’t want to live next door to them, I would never ask her to give up her pack’s home.
“What a coincidence that they moved back here, next door. Don’t you think? After all this time?” my grandma says too innocently.
I cut my eyes at her. “Don’t you go dressing up this disaster and calling it fate.”
Grandma Lily and Bambi are the only ones who know the whole story and what Nash Wells and Dane Daniels meant to me.
“Nothing good comes from looking at the past. And they belong in the past,” I say, trying to convince myself as much as her.
My grandma looks at the mantel, her eyes skirting over the frames and a lifetime of pack memories. “I know it can be painful, but sometimes it’s worth it to revisit the past.” She smiles, and it's full of the sweet sadness of nostalgia.
I wince. “I’m an insensitive jerk. I didn’t mean?—”
She turns her smile on me. “I know you didn’t, sugar. And I support whatever you do. If you wanna TP the place, I’ll get the club together. Just think about it for me?” She gets up from her chair and tries to grab her dishes.
“Leave them. I’ve got the party to clean up anyway,” I grumble, pissed at the universe.
She shuffles to me, leaning in to tug on a curl. “Maybe there’s unfinished business there and facing it will be healing. I’m gonna go lie back down. You should get out of the house today.” She winks. “Then I’ll be able to watch my shows in peace.”
“Yes, because I’m so loud,” I say, rolling my eyes.
She chuckles on her way back to her nest. “Love you!”
“Love you,” I call back, getting up despite her clear dismissal. I follow her, checking to see that she’s got her meds.
I hover until she kicks me out, then I work out some of my anger cleaning up from last night. It doesn’t help. Dane’s scent refuses to fade, and I keep catching glances from the kitchen window of their house.
Determined not to spiral, I formulate a plan for marking my territory as I march to my room. I’m claiming the porch back today. I’m a grown-ass woman. I’ve got friends and my grandma. I’ve got a job I love. I have fucking hobbies . My wardrobe kicks ass. I’m Rosie B—and Rosie B is tough as shit.
I psych myself up as I scrub off Dane’s scent, going hard with the exfoliating loofah. So what if my hot neighbors are the same boys from that awful night?
I dry off and stare at myself in the mirror, proud of the woman looking back at me. So what if they’ve seen me at my most vulnerable? I survived then, and I will do it again.
So what if it feels like they were supposed to be mine? They never were.
* * *
Raven: A thing happened. A really big awful, scary, embarrassing thing.
Kelly: Are you ok?
Raven: Physically? Yes.
Mentally? Debatable.
Kelly: ???
Raven: My teenage crushes moved in next door. As in plural. Two. Together. They’re pack.
How do I know you ask?
I met them in my pajamas!!!
Kelly: …
Kelly: Yeah?
Raven: Get ready. Grandma and I are moving in.
Kelly: I’m between flights on a long-ass travel day. You two could hop on one and meet me… I can be your new neighbor ;)
Raven: Lol.
Thanks for invite. Don’t rule it out. I’m gonna go blow an entire commission on black out curtains and pretend like I don’t know them. Ever.
* * *
Bambi holds out a set of flowy pink panels and raises her brow in question.
“Those are too see-through. Think concealer. I need full coverage,” I say, going back to debating between the dark coating or the window film that looks like a stained mosaic before tossing five rolls of the knock-off glass into my basket.
“How about these?” she asks.
I nod in approval at the warm toffee color.
“Yes! These will match perfectly with some pillows I saw over there. We can get some candles and create a whole oasis vibe for the porch. By the time we’re done, you’ll be at a spa retreat with no neighbors in sight,” she says excitedly before running off, an omega on a nesting mission.
I called her on my way to the store, hoping for an emergency shopping trip. When I told her who moved in next door, she took lunch early and met me at the nearest big box store out on the highway.
We cover every aisle in the home goods section in record time, making it to the register with enough stuff for a total back porch makeover. The whole trip costs several hundred dollars, but the sense of control it provides is worth it.
She hugs me in the lot after helping me stuff my car full. “Whatever you need, call me.”
I pull back from the hug to lean against my door and fiddle with my keys.
“It’s really shit,” she says quietly.She props her arm on the roof of the car, and we stare at the parking lot.
“It really is.” I sigh. “I know they’re the good guys. They probably think I’m a total psycho and a bitch for never thanking them or for acting like this?—"
“Hey, you don’t have to thank someone for human decency, and you don’t owe them an explanation,” Bambi says firmly but kindly.
My eyes water, but I fend off the tears with a deep breath. “I know, but?—”
“But it’s your Nash, so maybe you want to?”
That hits the spot, making my nose sting and a pesky tear drip down my cheek. “Yeah,” I whisper.
I mean, I wish things were different. I wish I lived in a world where my sixteenth birthday had ended in my first kiss or a thousand other what-ifs, but it didn’t. Nash and Dane had front-row seats to my worst moment.We will forever have that history, and no amount of wishing can undo it.
I wince, unable to erase the memory of the look of horror on Nash’s face when he saw me this morning.
The fact that they moved in next door sucks, but maybe I can build my little walls of comfort.
Bambi rests her head on my shoulder. “Craft a she-porch and block them out. Or put on the sexiest thing in your closet and fuck the past out of your system. Toss it up—try one, then the other. There is no right way.”
I wrap her in a side hug. “Yeah. Kinda hard to know which way is up.”
Her phone buzzes from her pocket. “I gotta run. I left them on their own.”
“Thanks. I’ll send pictures when I’m done and see you tomorrow,” I say as she pulls away to climb into her car.
I head back toward home, still obsessing and worrying over my new reality.