Love Thy Neighbor (5 page)

Understanding dawns on his face. He chuckles
and rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, I thought he was coming on to
you. I didn’t like that. I mean, I was sitting right here.” He
looks sheepish.

I chuckle. “No. We aren’t like that.”

He takes my hand and plays with my fingers.
“Good, because I was planning on asking you out.”

I smile then bite my lip. I clear my throat
and admit, “Well, it’s a good thing I’d say yes.”

Cole smiles his brilliant smile and agrees,
“Yeah. That is a good thing.”

***

When I get home from the club, I’m smiling
like an idiot and feel so light, I practically float right through
the door.

I ended up staying a little later than
normal. I glance at my phone for the time. 3:17am.

Yikes!

Okay, a lot later than normal! But Cole is
so dreamy! And I’m seeing him again Monday night.

Sigh.

Still smiling like a complete dork, I kick
off my shoes and drop my purse on the counter. I walk over to my
room, undress and walk to the bathroom buck-naked. I dress in my
jammies, walk back to my room and flick on the lamp. And I squeal
my freakin’ head off.

Ghost is lying on my bed with his hands
crossed behind his head. And the ass is smirking.

He saw me naked!

I yell, “You saw me naked!”

He smiles wider, bites the tip of his tongue
and nods.

God, I love when he does the tongue
thing.

My blood boils.

I pick up a shoe and throw it at him. He
moves to avoid it and rolls right off the bed. I burst out
laughing. I laugh long and so hard I have tears streaming down my
face. I open my eyes and spy Ghost on the floor rubbing his head. I
walk over to him and still chuckling, ask, “Are you okay?”

He scowls but smiles. “Yeah.” Then he stands
and says, “Now that you’re home, we can talk.”

Ghost breaking into my apartment doesn’t
even worry me. He did the same to Tina, like, a gazillion times.
He’s some big-shot security guy, so I guess he knows enough about
locks and alarms to bypass them.

With a sigh, I flop onto my bed face-down
and utter, “It’s so late, Ghost. Can’t we talk tomorrow?”

This comes out muffled.

My bed depresses. “No. We talk now. It’s
important.”

I look up and Ghost is lying next to me with
his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. His arms look
perfectly delicious in the black uniform tee he wears and I
inwardly curse him. I exhale loudly and give in. “Okay. What’s
up?”

He looks suddenly nervous and mutters,
“About Tasha…”

I cut him off, “Not my business. Next topic
of discussion.”

Ghost nods and goes on, “I think you should
rethink this avoiding each other business.”

I turn my body so I’m on my side. “Why?”

Ghost turns to look at me and states firmly,
“Because it’s selfish of you.”

What the feck?!

“What?” I whisper.

He nods and explains, “For seven months all
our friends have been divided and I don’t like it. We live next
door to each other, so grow the hell up and get over whatever it is
that stops us from talking because I’ve had it.”

Rage coils in my gut.

I shout, “I’m not selfish!”

He nods his head. “Okay, fine. Show me you
aren’t. Let’s stop avoiding each other.”

My brain wanders as he says this.

What could go wrong?

I could begin to feel things for him. Gooey,
icky things.

Then don’t sleep with him again, stupid.

What are his intentions?

I clear my throat and ask, “What are your
intentions, Ghost?”

He turns to face me and looks uneasy. He
frowns and sniffs his reply, “I don’t know. Be friends or some
shit.” He finishes with a small shrug.

Friends with Ghost.

Friendship.

I can do friendship.

After a minute silence, I respond quietly.
“Yeah, okay. We can be friends.”

Ghost blinks and slides off my bed. He turns
off my lamp, covers me with the quilt and whispers, “Night,
Nat.”

I smile. “Night, Ghost.”

All is right in the world.

Chapter
Three
No use crying over stolen milk

Thump.

My eyes open wide and I stiffen. I pull the
covers up to my chin and listen.

Thump.

Someone’s in my kitchen!

No one has a key to this place yet, so I
come to the conclusion I’m being robbed. I grab my phone and slowly
edge off the bed, being careful not to make a sound. I dial 911 on
my cell on hold my thumb over the green call button.

Mental note: buy mace.

I peek down the hall and see a man’s body
hanging out of my refrigerator. Luckily, the refrigerator door is
in the way so he can’t see me. I creep as quietly as I can down the
hall, into the kitchen then slam the refrigerator door into the man
as hard as I can. The man gets squished and makes an
Oomph
sound. I run to the door, unlock it, go out into the hall and bang
on Ghost’s door as loudly as possible.

My body trembles. I’m scared to death.

I whisper shakily, “Please be home. Please
be home.” I lose patience and shriek, “Ghost! Open the door! Please
be home!”

My eyes fill with tears.

I’m terrified.

An arm wraps around my waist and I yelp.
Just as I’m about to scratch the robber’s eyes out, lips come to my
ear and he whispers, “Calm down, pretty girl. It’s just me.”

My body becomes limp with relief and I choke
on a sob. I dip my chin and burst into tears.
He turns me, and I lean my forehead onto his chest as he holds me
tight. He rocks my body from side to side and coos, “It’s okay,
babe. It’s just me.”

When I finally manage to calm down, I lean
back and look into Ghost’s face. He looks concerned as he wipes
away my tears. I sniffle and he puts on a small smile. Just as he
opens his mouth to speak, I punch him.

Right on the nose.

He stumbles back holding his nose and
moaning. I screech, “Don’t you ever,
ever
do that
again!”

Then I turn on my heel and storm back into
my apartment. I lock the door behind me, run to my room and face
plant into my bed. Within seconds, I hear the front door open. I
sigh. A few seconds later, I feel the bed sink next to me.

“Who taught you to punch like that?”

I reply a muffled, “My dad.” After a few
moments of silence, I lift my face and tell him, “I have two
sisters. Dad wanted us be to be able to defend ourselves. All it
really did was make us short-fused
and
dangerous. There were
more cat fights in our house than you could count. Nina once
stabbed me with a fork because I ruined her sweater. Helena ripped
a chunk of hair out of my head when I was in high school, and I had
to wear a hat for a year.”

Ghost’s eyes widen. “That’s fucked up.”

I sigh and smile wistfully. “Yeah. It
is.”

“So you don’t get on with your family?”

I scrunch my face and state, “My family is
awesome. We’re just a bit hot-headed is all.”

After a moment’s silence, I ask, “Do you
have any brothers or sisters?”

Ghost replies without emotion, “Nik, Max and
Trick are my brothers.”

That’s really sweet, but I’ll never admit it
to him. I find myself curious to know about his family. More
importantly, to find out about what makes Ghost the way he is.

I roll my eyes and ask, “For real brothers
and sisters?”

He sighs. “No. Don’t have a family either,
so can you drop it?”

My eyes narrow. “What the feck were you
doing in my kitchen this morning? You scared the shit out of
me.”

Ghost rubs his nose. “Yeah, sorry about
that. I ran out of milk so I came to borrow some. Isn’t that what
friends do?”

Only now do I notice we’re both in pajamas.
Ghost wears a tight white tee and blue pajama pants. I wear my
Minnie Mouse pants and tank combo.

I chuckle softly and clarify, “You broke
into my apartment to steal my milk?”

Ghost smiles, runs a hand through his
longish sandy hair and bites his tongue.

Oh, geez. He looks like a little boy when he
does that.

Adorable.

He says apologetically, “Sorry. I didn’t
mean to scare you.”

My stomach rumbles. I glance over at the
clock. 8:57am.

I ask slowly, “Want some French Toast?”
Ghost looks stunned. I rush to continue, “I can’t make it just for
one person. The recipe I know is for two people. I always make too
much for myself, so if you want some, I’ll make it for both of us
otherwise the rest will go to waste.”

And pause for air.

He grins. “Uh, yeah. Sure. As long as you
have bacon too.”

I roll my eyes and mutter, “Who on earth
makes French toast without bacon or syrup? ”

We both stand and walk to the kitchen. I
start removing things from the fridge and cupboards. I ask Ghost to
get some plates and just as I’m about to tell him where to get
them, he goes to the exact place my plates are kept, removes two
and places them on the counter.

My eyes narrow. “Ghost, have you been in my
apartment before last night?”

His back is to me but he visibly
stiffens.

Oh my God!

I lean closer to him and whisper-hiss, “Oh
my God! You have! When?”

He turns, holds up his hands in surrender
and explains, “The day after that first night. I came home while
you were still at work and cased the place. I was just checking how
secure it was. That’s all.”

My fists ball and I close my eyes. “How
thorough were you?”

He replies immediately. “Pretty damn
thorough.”

Eyes still closed, I ask a hushed, “Did you
go into my room?”

He doesn’t say a word. So there’s my
answer.

My face flushes and I whisper, “Did you go
through my underwear drawer?”

He doesn’t answer this either.

OH MY GOD! That means he saw…

“Oh my God!” I shout and cover my face with
my hands.

Ghost sputters, “I- I- I only looked for a
second. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal. Lots of women use
vibrators…”

My face turns beet red and I yell, “Stop
talking!”

“…I know quite a few women who pleasure
themselves…”

I screech, “Shut up, Ghost!”

“…I mean, I was surprised at first. You
don’t seem like the kind of woman who needs a vibrator…”

I walk over to him and cover his mouth with
both my hands. He closes his eyes. I whisper, “We will never speak
of this again. Ever.” He stays quiet for a long moment but nods
once.

I let go of his mouth, turn around and go
about making our breakfast.

***

My eyes close in bliss as I bite into
another piece of syrup-covered bacon.

Not only is she sexy, but she cooks too.

Nice.

We’ve been fairly silent over breakfast.
Ever since the vibrator conversation, she hasn’t said much.

I don’t know what the big deal is.

It’s hot.

I’d bet at least fifty percent of women own
one. I like a woman who isn’t afraid to please herself.

I clear my throat. “This is great. I didn’t
know you cooked.”

Nat looks up and smiles. “Well you never
asked, did you? Not much of a conversationalist, are you Ash?”

I love when she says my name.

Poking at my bacon, I admit quietly, “No.
Not much. No.”

“Why is that? You’re clearly intelligent.
You wouldn’t be able to do all that fancy security stuff if you
were dumb. Why don’t you talk much?”

I shrug and explain, “I prefer to listen.
You can find out a lot about a person if they think you aren’t
interested in what they’re saying. It helps me figure out the type
of person they are.”

She plays with her food and asks quietly,
“Do you listen to me when I talk?” I nod and she asks, “What have
you learnt about me?”

I lean back on my chair. “I’ve learnt looks
can be deceiving.”

Her brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

I shake my head and accuse, “Hell, no. If I
tell you, you’ll just punch me again!”

She rolls her eyes and vows, “I promise not
to punch you again. Today.”

I utter, “Okay. You asked for it, pretty
girl.” I exhale loudly and rest my forearms on the small dining
table leaning closer to her. “You act like a tough girl, but the
things that hurt other people hurt you just as much. You just don’t
say anything about it. You never show your true emotions and are
very guarded with people you meet. You use sarcasm to deflect truth
and you don’t trust easily. You sometimes use your looks to get
what you want. You hide behind bright red hair, pretty dresses and
sexy lips. You’re also unpredictable. Basically, you are a guy’s
wet dream and worst nightmare all rolled into one. You’re the woman
a guy falls in love with but doesn’t really know. He falls in love
with one version of you. You’ll only show the real you when you
feel safe in the relationship and it might not be what that man
wants in the end.”

Her eyes have lost focus. She stares
vacantly into my chest.

Shit.

This is why I don’t talk to people. I
usually say shit that makes people angry or upset. It’s not that I
don’t have manners, I just don’t really understand emotions.

I run a hand through my hair and start,
“Nat, I’m sorry-”

But she cuts me off with a shake of the head
and quietly states, “You’re good at that. You should become a
police profiler or something. That’s pretty much right. All of it.”
She ends on a whisper.

I clear my throat. “I don’t mean any
offence. I just call it like I see it. I don’t really know how to
lie. I’d prefer to just get the truth out there. No beating around
bushes, ya know?”

She smiles a small smile. “You’re the kind
of friend I need, Ghost. Lying doesn’t fly with me. I hate it.”