Chapter 4
four
The rumble of a lawnmower jerks me out of my much-needed sleep. Still a little hungover from the night before, I groan, pressing a pillow over my head to smother the noise. The movers had woken me up early to deliver the missing pod, and I’d only just managed to fall back to sleep.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, my complaint muffled by my mattress.
But the noise doesn’t stop. As the mechanical roar drones on, I swear it only gets louder, vibrating the glass of my bedroom window.
Throwing off the covers, I stomp across the room, and yank back the curtains. Damn it. This window faces my driveway and the other faces the side of the house next door, so they must be mowing their backyard.
Fueled by curiosity and frustration, I march down the hallway to the guest bedroom at the back of the house.
The room facing the backyard is still mostly in shambles. An unmade queen-sized guest bed sits up against the far wall with a few boxes stacked in the opposite corner.
Light streams happily through the large bay window through sheer white curtains. When I move them aside to get a better look, my breath catches in my throat and I freeze.
Son of a bitch.
Even though his back is to me, there’s no mistaking who it is.
My heart leaps into my throat as I watch Jax, in all his shirtless glory, push the lawnmower across his yard.
Sweat glistens and muscles flex under colorful ink wrapping up and around his arms—arms that had once caged me up against a brick wall—shifting like living art with every flex of his hands as they turn the mower around to finish a row.
His dark hair is tucked under a baseball cap, pulled low to shield his eyes from the sun, basketball shorts hanging low on his hips.
“Seriously?” I groan, taking an involuntary step back. “This can’t be happening.”
But no matter how much I wish this was some kind of crazy dream, I can’t deny the fact that my one-night stand—the man I haven’t been able to get out of my head for months—is right outside mowing his lawn.
Which means Lizzy was telling the truth: Jax Riley is my next-door neighbor.
I should close the curtains. Yup. Pretend I never saw him. But I just can’t help myself.
My nose almost touches the glass as I move in close, utterly transfixed by the way the sunlight plays across his bare back, highlighting every line of muscle. And fuck me running if those shorts don’t make his ass look good enough to bite.
He stops, takes off his hat and wipes his brow before picking up where he left off. As I press my fingertips against the glass, memories of those same hands roaming over my body flood back with startling clarity.
Jiminy Christmas! How could this guy be even hotter than I remember?
But, no matter how hard I try, I still can’t look away.
Suddenly, he stops, glances over his shoulder and looks up at my window.
Heart hammering in my chest, I quickly duck out of sight. Did he see me? Oh god, I hope not. How mortifying would it be to get caught staring at him like some sort of Creepy McCreeperson?
The mower shuts off, and I count to ten before slowly peeking around the window frame. He’s putting the mower away.
Now I’m gawking, practically drooling as he pulls a shirt from his waistband and uses it to wipe sweat from his face before heading inside.
Only when he’s out of sight, do I finally exhale.
Heart pounding, I hurry back to my room and collapse onto the bed.
So this is my new reality. My new neighbor is the one freaking guy I’ve been trying to avoid, and I just spied on him like some kind of horny teenager.
Just great, Sash. Real fucking mature.
My phone buzzes from somewhere in the tangle of sheets on my bed. Shoving them aside, I manage to find it buried under a pillow.
“Hey,” I grunt, flopping back onto my mattress.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Noia chirps. “How’s the unpacking going?”
I sigh and stare up at my ceiling. “The movers dropped off the pod, but I haven’t started unloading it yet.”
“And...?” The expectation in her voice is unmistakable.
“And what?”
“Have you seen him yet?”
I press my lips together, debating whether or not to tell her. Who am I kidding? She’s gonna get it out of me eventually. “Yeah. Actually woke me up this morning mowing his lawn. Ugh! Not only was he was shirtless, his fucking hat was on backwards.”
“I knew it!” she squeals, making me wince. “What happened? Did he see you?”
“No, thank God. I was watching from the guest bedroom window like a total creeper.”
“You’re not a creeper. You’re just... doing reconnaissance.”
I snort. “Pretty sure the definition of creeper is ‘someone who hides behind their curtains to ogle their smokin’ hot neighbor’s washboard abs.’”
“Aww. You wike him.”
Freaking Noia and her baby talk.
“Whatever,” I grumble, fighting a grin.
“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.” Another giggle. “You know I’m a huge fan of the ‘hot next door neighbor’ trope, right?”
Letting the grin win, I scoot off of the bed and run a hand through my tangled hair. “Well, aren’t you just a ball of laughs this morning? Look, I love you. But I need to start unloading the pod before it gets too hot.”
“Fine. But remember—when you do run into him, which you will,” she says, her tone dripping with mischief. “Try not to drool too much.”
“Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes. “You’re so fucking hilarious. I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You better! Don’t work too hard, and make sure you hydrate. It’s hot as a devil’s balls out today. See you when I get back.”
“Have fun at your meeting. Bye-eee.”
I hang up before she can say anything else and drag myself into the bathroom.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I pull my hair into a messy bun, throw on a pair of ratty denim shorts and an old Summit Studio tank top and head down to the kitchen.
Coffee and a breakfast muffin are just what I need in order to tackle the bane of my existence currently sitting my driveway.
When I step outside, I suck in a breath. Noia was right, it’s hot as balls out here.
Side-eyeing Jax’s house, I make my way across the yard. It’s much different from what you’d expect a bachelor pad to look like—at least from the outside.
The house is immaculate with its freshly painted sage green siding and crisp white trim around the windows. There’s even flower boxes bursting with colorful petunias sitting beneath them. His lawn is perfectly mowed with clean edges, and not a weed in sight.
A black Dodge Ram that looks like it just rolled off the showroom floor is parked in the driveway.
No mud splatters, no dust, not even a fingerprint graces the paint or chrome.
The windows are spotless, and I can see what looks like a small Skin & Ink decal in the back window.
Even the tires look like they’ve recently been detailed.
“Damn,” I mutter under my breath.
I never would’ve expected that level of care from someone covered in tattoos who probably spends most of his nights drinking whiskey and making women scream with pleasure in dark alleyways.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining.
A man who makes time to take care of his things is. .. well, it’s kind of hot.
It takes a couple of tries, but I’m finally able to wrench open the metal doors to the pod, which leaves me staring at the mountain of boxes inside with dread.
Remind me why I wanted to do this alone again?
“Screw it.” I climb inside and grab the first box. It’s a little heavier than I expected for kitchen stuff, and I have to struggle to maneuver it onto my shoulder.
Three boxes in, I’m already sweating like I’ve just finished teaching an hour long hot yoga class. The summer heat is brutal, and the air inside the pod almost makes it feel like an oven. I stop to take a water break, leaning against the pod’s door to catch my breath.
And that’s when I hear it—the unmistakable sound of a door opening and closing next door.
I freeze, water bottle halfway to my lips.
Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself to focus on the task at hand rather than the fact that my hot neighbor just stepped outside. Hopefully, he’s about to leave, and he won’t even know I’m here.
Taking a deep breath, I set the bottle down and start rummaging around for a lighter box to carry. Because the sooner I’m done with this, the sooner I can hide out inside where there’s no chance of running into him.
Just as I reach for a medium-sized box full of bathroom towels, a deep voice rumbles from behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin.
“Need some help?”