The Boy Next Door: A Standalone Small Town Romance (Soulmates Series Book 3) (11 page)

Chapter 20: Connor

Watching her from across the yard made me feel like a teenager
again.

I was always so aware of her back then no matter what we were up
to.

Even that first day I saw her sitting by herself in the
cafeteria wearing geeky glasses that failed to hide how beautiful she was, I
had to go over.

And I’d been like a moth to a flame ever since.

Frankly, by the time we graduated she was almost like a limb.

That’s why her severing ties had been so shitty for me.

Because it didn’t feel like I’d merely broken up with someone.
It felt like part of me had been cut off and cast away.

And as I watched her bounce Elly Cartwright’s new baby on her
knee, I decided that it was wise to recall how hurt I’d been.

Because if I wasn’t careful, it could happen again.

It was strange, though. Normally I was such a level headed guy.
Anyone would’ve described me as a rational person. But the attraction I had to Laney
made me stupid and vulnerable, and I could feel it in every cell of my body.

It was like one of those friendships where you know the other
person means infinitely more to you than you do to them, but even imagining
life without them is so much more painful than that realization that you make a
conscious choice to take what you can get.

Because your life is richer with them in it.

Logically, I should’ve spent the evening flirting with the
Detgens like a normal single guy who has his priorities straight.

Instead, I preferred to show Laney a good time. Just once more. Just
in case it was my last chance.

And I could tell by the look on Dave’s face that he didn’t understand
why I was doing this to myself.

“Did you have a nice time?” I asked as we strolled back the way
we came, across the park and down the street with the fragrant cherry blossom
trees.

Laney nodded. “It went better than I thought it would,
actually.”

I furrowed my brow. “How did you think it would go?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was worried I wouldn’t really fit in.”

“Why would you feel that way?” I asked. “You must’ve known over
half the people there.”

She shrugged.

A firecracker went off in the distance.

She looked at me.

“Kids down by the lake,” I said.

“Some things never change, eh?”

I smiled.

She took a deep breath. “I suppose I’m just so used to going to
parties in New York where there’s no pressure to fit in. On the contrary,
everyone prides themselves on not fitting it, on the fact that they’re
different.”

“Sure.”

“But this is such a tight knit community,” she said. “Not
fitting in here can be isolating and scary.”

“You looked like you felt comfortable.”

“I did,” she said. “I’m relieved how much actually. Amber
especially went out of her way to make me feel welcome.”

“Yeah, she’s a sweetheart. And she was always fond of you.”

“Which is more than I can say for Dave,” she said, keeping her
eyes on the sidewalk.

“Don’t mind him. Being a good host doesn’t come naturally to
him.”

“It’s fine. I have a thick enough skin that I can handle it, but
he was borderline interrogating me.”

“What did you expect?” I asked.

“Sorry?”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “To not be interrogated at a barbeque?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“And what might they be?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Who knows?”

Laney stopped in her tracks. “I bet you do.”

“It doesn’t matter. Come on.”

“No. It does matter,” she said. “He’s worried I’m going to hurt
you again, isn’t he?”

“He’s worried about a lot of things,” I said, looking into her
blue eyes.

“Don’t put that on me, Connor.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I’m not the only adult in this relationship.”

“What relationship, Laney?”

She cocked her hip. “Don’t play stupid. You know this isn’t
normal- what we have. It isn’t right.”

I scratched the back of my head. “What’s not right about it? We
used to date, and I took you out as a gesture of goodwill.”

“Why?” she asked, folding her arms.

“Because eating alone is overrated.”

“But you should hate me,” she said. “You shouldn’t even be able
to look at my face.”

I waved her ridiculous comments away and headed down the street.

“Don’t walk away,” she said, hurrying after me. “You owe me an
explanation.”

I turned around at the bottom of Helly’s driveway. “I don’t owe
you shit, Laney.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“And you know it.”

She swallowed.

“But I could never hate you, okay? Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Her eyes bounced back and forth between mine.

“I loved you for too long.” I set my hand on top of the low
picket fence.

Her eyes started to water.

“And I can’t forget,” I said. “Even if I could I wouldn’t want
to-”

She stepped forward and kissed me then, pressing her soft lips
to mine.

At first they felt foreign, but as soon as she parted them, my
muscle memory and my emotional memory came to life.

And I kissed her back. How could I not? I did it as much out of
the attraction I’d felt to her all night as I did out of curiosity.

And as I pulled her lower back towards me, all the bullshit
melted away, all the stress, all the energy I’d put into fighting the fact that
I still cared for her.

When she finally stepped back, I didn’t know what to say.

Kissing her was even better than I remembered.

She didn’t say another word, either. She just pursed her lips,
walked around me, and headed up the driveway to Helly’s house.

When she opened the front door, she looked back over her
shoulder at me and then away again mid blush.

How she had the wherewithal to walk away was a mystery.

I took a few steps backwards and then headed up my own driveway,
my lips still buzzing from the energy of her kiss.

My mind raced with questions about what came over her. Should I
read into it? Did it mean something? Or did she just do it to shut me up or thank
me or because she was unusually vulnerable right now with everything she was
going through?

I didn’t know. I couldn’t know.

Because I’d fucked up.

I shouldn’t have let her walk away. Not like that. Hell, I
shouldn’t have even let her come up for air.

After all, talking was doing nothing but getting us into
trouble. But it hadn’t crossed my mind that we could just skip that step. Just
not talk. Just feel.

And why not? She’d said it herself- we were both adults.

So what if we wanted to pretend things were different for a few
minutes. Was that really so bad? We weren’t hurting anyone but ourselves.

As I unlocked the door and greeted Sarge, I couldn’t help but
think about the Choose Your Own Adventure Books, and how I wished I’d turned
the pages differently just now.

Because even though it wasn’t worth regretting the past, it was
still the quality of my present days that mattered most.

And if the whole world ended tomorrow, I’d have to die knowing
that I let her walk away.

Again.

Chapter 21: Laney

When I got home, Helly was asleep on the couch with an open book
about gems on her chest. Meanwhile, an infomercial was making an aggressive
offer on a steam mop in the background.

I wriggled the book from her arms, turned off the TV, and
covered her with a blanket.

I knew better than to wake her up.

She took her dreams very seriously, and if you woke her while
she was having one, she’d sulk the whole next day like you’d shredded her plane
ticket to a far off land.

Which I could understand.

I’d been having crazy dreams lately myself, and while most of
them were dreams I often wanted to wake up from- dreams about my mother or
dreams where I’d wake up in a bed next to Henry’s teeth in a glass- I, too,
hated to be woken up during a good dream.

But I wasn’t worried about dreaming that night.

Not only would I have been lucky to get any sleep at all, but if
I went to sleep, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the reeling wonder I felt in my
whole body as a result of kissing Connor again.

But while it was magical to feel so overwhelmingly home again in
all the best ways, I shouldn’t have done it.

I mean, what the hell was I thinking?

Of course, I knew the answer to that question- I wasn’t. I
wasn’t thinking at all.

I just- I don’t know… When he said he didn’t hate me, that he
couldn’t forget about loving me, and that he didn’t even want to, I just had to
kiss him.

It’s not that I didn’t believe his words, but I wanted to feel
them.

And I wanted to answer them.

And I knew if I tried to speak I’d just make a big mess of one
of the most generous, kind moments I’d enjoyed in quite some time.

But I had to apologize.

It was too late to say I was sorry for breaking his heart, for
ending things the way I did, and for not having the decency back then to try
and explain.

But I could at least apologize for crossing the line at the end
of the driveway. After all, he didn’t deserve for me to show up and turn his
life on its head when he’d done such a good job moving on.

So as I lied awake in bed that night, I apologized over and
over, trying to get it right, trying to sound sincere.

Which was desperately difficult because deep down, I wasn’t
genuinely sorry.

I was happy I kissed him. Elated even. Intoxicated.

But that didn’t make it okay.

And I didn’t want him to think I was crazy.

Everyone else could. That was fine. But not him.

***

I remembered the kiss before I even opened my eyes.

It was the last thing I thought about the night before and the
first thing that popped into my head that morning.

And I knew the longer I put off apologizing the worse it was
going to be.

I sat up and stretched my arms over my head, my eyes adjusting
to the light as they located the Minnie Mouse clock on my bookshelf.

It was nine o’clock.

I didn’t hear anyone else up in the house, which was odd as
Helly usually sang to herself in the mornings, especially on the weekend after
some good dreams.

But when I went to the window, I saw her in the backyard,
rolling tires around in an effort to create a new plot of flower beds. She’d
mentioned earlier that week that she was keen to create a rainbow effect
against the left wall and insisted it would look better than it sounded.

I knew I should go out and greet her, but I was in a hurry to
put my immature behavior behind me so I brushed my teeth, made sure I didn’t
have a nest of hair bunched anywhere on my head, and washed my face.

I couldn’t stop myself from putting on a smidge of blush, but I
dismissed the rest. Putting a full face of makeup on for my apology seemed to
cheapen it somehow.

Then I snuck out the front door and tried to control my
breathing as I headed up the path to his house.

I rang the bell and listened to the tweeting birds while I
waited.

“Laney,” he said when he saw me. He was in a white t-shirt and
pajama pants, but it didn’t look like I’d woken him up.

“Can I talk to you?”

He stepped back so I could come in.

I stayed by the front door while he closed it. He smelled like a
sleeping man, and being so close to his pheromones gave me goosebumps.

“What’s up?” he asked, his dark eyes searching mine.

“I came to apologize.”

He furrowed his brow.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. I don’t know what got
into m-”

He grabbed my face and kissed me, inhaling the bullshit excuses
that had been on the tip of my tongue.

My back bowed as he pulled me to him and ran his fingers through
my hair, clenching a clump of my bedhead in his fist.

In that moment I wished he would kiss me forever and that I
would never have to make sense of my feelings.

He pulled my shirt off over my head and his lips found mine
again like a magnet while he unhooked my t-shirt bra with one hand.

I felt him swell against me and my breath hitched in my throat.

“Damnit, Laney,” he said, almost growling as he walked forwards and
lowered me down against the staircase. He dropped his head to my neck and his
stubble tickled me, causing a hot shiver to vibrate up my spine.

I grabbed the sleeves of his shirt as he dropped his hands to my
chest, followed by his mouth.

When he pulled my leggings down, I felt the carpeted stairs on
my ass and slid my fingers into his thick hair, letting my head fall back onto
the step behind it.

He pushed my legs apart and licked my slit, causing my whole
body to gush towards him.

My ankles were still stuck in my leggings, but he lifted them
over his head so they hung down his back and brought his face between my thighs
again.

I reached for the banister with one hand and gripped the stairs
with the other as he licked me, scooping me out with an intensity I never could
have prepared myself for.

I moaned and bucked against his face.

He put his hands around my waist, lapping at me harder all the
time.

“Oh god, Connor,” I whispered. “That feels too good.”

He stuck his fingers inside me and stretched me open.

I cried out and arched my back.

He crawled forwards so his face was over mine and my tied ankles
stayed wrapped around him.

I panted through parted lips.

He didn’t say anything. He just watched my eyes while he finger fucked
me.

“You’re going to make me come,” I said, staring at his mouth
through half closed eyes.

He forced his fingers deeper and kissed me, churning my insides
and my tongue at the same time until I felt completely vulnerable and totally
out of control.

Then he lifted me and carried me up the stairs to the landing.

When he laid me back down, he raised up onto his knees, forcing
my leggings to spring from one of my ankles so I was no longer bound.

He was breathing hard as he pulled his shirt off, and the sight
of his abs made me wilt inside.

It was as if they’d multiplied since the last time I saw them,
and now the chiseled cuts in his stomach where too many to count.

Then he pulled his pants down, his eyes on me as his dick sprang
from his pajama pants.

He stroked it over me and looked me up and down, his eyes
falling from my lips to my tits.

“Connor, I-”

“Shut up,” he said, his face serious. “I’m sick of your shit.”
He held himself over me, his hands planted on both sides of my head. “It’s my
fucking turn to make a point,” he said, reaching down and guiding the tip of
his dick inside me.

I furrowed my brow as he pushed his way in.

Then he dropped to his elbows, sucked the delicate skin of my
neck, and buried himself inside me.