Chapter 7 Wesley
Wesley
Turning into the driveway, desperate for a shower, my balls could do with a blast of cool air and a good dusting of talcum powder.
For some reason, I’m shit up more than usual.
Glancing over at the little bungalow my parents used to let out as a holiday home, a wave of sadness washes over me as I step out, and before I know it, I’m making my way towards the old place.
It’s going to feel strange seeing people living there, but I know it’ll make a lovely home for the couple who bought it.
Walking up the steps of the wraparound porch, I take one last look through the windows. It doesn’t need much work. I’d already updated the bathroom, kitchen, and heating system, making sure everything was up to safety standards.
I’ve always been a safety-first kind of man.
Continuing my check on the windows, making sure they’re all secure, I notice the light on in the first bedroom. I know I wouldn’t have left it on.
Moving in closer, trying to keep my guard up, as if something, or someone, is waiting for me on the other side. Should have grabbed my sledgehammer.
Crouching down and squashing my face to the glass, I can’t see anything, until I look down, only to be greeted by the perfect view of a luscious arse bent over, giving me the best fucking view. Leaving nothing to the imagination but a trail of teasing fantasies.
“Fuck.”
Realising I look like a peeping Tom, perving through the window at some woman bent over, I jolt upwards, trying to move out of view, then smack! My forehead cracks against the frame, throwing me back on my arse.
“What the fuck?” Wincing at the pain, my hand tentatively reaches up to touch my head, already noticing the sizable lump forming. By morning, I’ll have an egg growing out of my forehead.
Scrambling to my knees, feeling a little dizzy, I know I need to get out of here.
“Oh God, are you okay?” a faint voice asks as I try to shake the pain away.
“Here.” A hand reaches out to me. I look up into two startled brown eyes, barely registering anything over the ringing in my ears. I feel like some cartoon character who’s just had a hammer slammed down on his head.
When I finally manage to stand up, it dawns on me.
Shannon is standing in front of me, a concerned look on her face. What the fuck is she doing here?
“Bloody hell, that needs looking at.” She tugs on my hand, steadying me. I feel like a fucking loser. Her eyes inspect the damage while I’m battling with myself, trying to string at least a few words together.
She smells like strawberries, only better, sweeter, and ripe.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” She waves a hand high in front of my face, too fast to count.
“Stop moving, and I’ll tell you,” I grit out, through the throbbing pain.
A delicate shade of pink paints her cheeks. “Oh yeah.” She snorts out a laugh. “Let’s try this again.” She’s being nice to me, which is a bonus. I thought she’d hate me even more after this afternoon. This time, she holds her hand still, two fingers splayed wide on her small hand.
“Two,” is all I manage before turning into an arsehole, because why is she here? “Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”
Folding my arms across my chest, I stand taller. I’m not sure if I’m trying to intimidate her or piss her off — maybe both. Only she doesn’t seem fazed either way. In fact, she looks pretty annoyed.
Shannon pushes her shoulders back, jutting out her chin as she looks up at me.
She looks cute with her face all twisted up in anger, trying to act all hard when…
“No,” she snaps, waving her pointer finger in front of my face, the other hand planted firmly on her hip.
“More like, what the fuck are you doing here?” she grits out.
I’m trying to ignore the relentless jackhammer pounding in my head.
I stand taller, looming over her. She’s not the tallest of people, but then again, I’m a big bloke, some would say intimidating.
But Shannon isn’t bothered by me or my size at all.
It almost makes me want to smile, but I’m still confused as to why the fuck she’s in the house.
“If you must know, I live in the house next door.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. She looks past me, then back at me, slightly recoiling.
“Please, God, tell me this is a joke?” Her face creases up in disgust. “Of all the people, you…” She stamps her foot like an angry kid. “You had to be the one who lives next door!” She huffs, blowing a breath.
It stings a little, then I remember I started it.
“No joke, and you’re trespassing on private property.” Shoving a hand through my hair, I add, “I’ve got half a mind to call the police.”
“I…” She looks worried. I don’t want to scare her into thinking I’d actually call them. Technically, I could lift her over my shoulder and carry her off the property.
“Shit.” She lowers her head, whispering the words that are about to change everything. “My parents bought the house,” she whispers. At least she won’t be here all the time then. The last thing I need is her distracting me, she already does a good job just by existing.
“I’m renting it from them.” Say what now? Shannon is renting the house?
“What. The. Fuck?” The words come out sharper than a slap across the face, but it’s too late to take them back.
“Let me guess, you’re the one who sold the house, and now we’re neighbours?” She crosses her arms in front of her while tapping her foot.
Looks like me and the girl who was doomed from the start are now neighbours.
This is not going to work. We both need to stay away from each other.
I never liked the idea of having to interact with neighbours anyway, but sharing a few feet with Shannon, knowing she’s going to be living here on my fucking doorstep, it’s going to be like dangling a juicy steak in front of a hungry lion - fuck!
The idea of a fence doesn’t seem like a bad one after all.
The universe keeps throwing us together, keeps driving us down the same road.
Only it's a dead end. Wherever we turn, we keep crashing into each other.
My next words are for her benefit as much as my own, because I know the egg growing out of my forehead isn’t going to be the only thing at the forefront of my mind. She is. But before I can mention staying out of each other’s way, she beats me to it.
“You’re the last person I want to live next door to.” She jabs a finger at me, getting in my face.
I could snatch her wrist, pull her into me, cop a feel of those gorgeous fucking curves of hers. Peel those tight little shorts down and spank her arse for being rude.
I shake the thought out of my head. I’ve never thought about slapping a woman’s arse before—until I met her.
“Jesus, someone up there doesn’t like me.” She sighs. Before I can stop myself, my mouth has no filter.
“Makes two of us,” I snap back, feeling like the biggest fucking wanker.
“You really played me when we first met. I swear you weren’t this much of a bellend,” she grits out.
“Yeah, well, people change,” I retort.
“Prick.” She stamps her foot.
“I am,” I agree, puffing out my chest. I’m being a dick.
Yeah, my mum would definitely clip me around the ears.
Shannon takes a tentative step towards me, her pink toes brushing the end of my dirty work boots.
She looks up at me just as I look down. And fuck, I can see right down her tank top.
I swallow the hard rock caught in my throat when I realise that she’s not even wearing a bra.
Two hard as fuck nipples, firm and tight, practically calling my name, stare right at me.
Christ.
What would it be like to drag my tongue over them, to suck them between my lips, to hear the sounds she’d make? It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about a woman like this.
Spreading my legs slightly, I tug my shirt down, trying to conceal the evidence of my incoming boner. Christ, stop acting like a fucking perv, Wes.
“Why don’t you and your friend get off my porch,” she bites. I am looking around half expecting to see Tristan. Then it dawns on me.
Tristan isn’t here. What she means is the throbbing, egg-sized lump growing out of my head.
Because I refuse to walk away without having the last word, I throw her a wink. “Just stay out my way, Snappy Poppins.” Spinning on my heels, I stomp off back to my own house.
Stopping when she calls out to me, “Hey.” I turn back, only to find her standing there, one hand raised high.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Before I can answer, she drops her fingers into a tight fist, leaving one finger standing high and proud. “Up yours.” She flips me off with a teasing grin across her face.
I carry on back to my house, slamming the door with force, shutting Shannon and her infuriating, perfect self out of my head.