“Two. How do you feel about your new neighbor? Are you two getting along nicely?” She waggles her eyebrows. “She’s a really sweet girl.”
I’m actively trying to keep my new neighbor out of my head, and Nan has to come in here and bring her up.
In front of Tucker, no less.
I can’t answer her question because I don’t know how I feel about her.
I want to say she’s growing on me, but I don’t know enough about her.
What I do know is that she’s got thighs for days. A body I would love to consume myself with. I want to explore every curve and run my hands along her bare skin. Admittedly, I’ve undressed her in my head every night before going to bed since having her in the passenger seat of my truck. Losing my mind every time my head hits the pillow.
She’s bringing up feelings I wish I never felt.
It’s been years since I’ve slept with anyone.
This is a small town. I don’t want to get involved with anyone for the risk of everyone knowing by morning. I know how we operate around here. Everyone talks because no one knows how to keep their mouths shut.
And that’s just a fraction of the reasoning.
I never want to make myself feel vulnerable enough to allow them to break me the way I’ve been broken. I’ve been doing just fine believing that I’m better off alone for the rest of my life.
My routine works for me.
My life works for me.
“Wait, wait,wait,” Tucker says. I watch as the wheels in hishead spin and he puts two and two together.Great. “Is the new city girl your new neighbor?”
I stare at him unblinkingly.
Lovely. Now he knows the truth.
“And you’ve been holding out on us since she got here? It’s been, like, a month now?”
I’ve been holding out because of this exact reaction.
“My neighbor is none of your concern,” I tell him.
“She lives in your house!” Tucker says.
“Myoldhouse,” I correct.
Nan turns to face Tucker, elbows on the bar, resting her chin on her knuckles. “Don’t you think it’s about time that Griffin here got over Sleazy Sierra?”
“I do, Nan.” He nods his head repeatedly. “But can we pause this for just one second?” he asks, turning his stool to face her. “How come you don’t have a fun nickname for me? I’m supposed to be your favorite.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She narrows her eyes.
“I know you have nicknames for the Barlow kids. And now I’m learning you have one for Sleazy Sierra. What am I, chopped liver? I may not be a Barlow, but I’m a Daniels.”
“I’ll give ya one,” I chime in. “Annoying Tucker.”
He turns to face me. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Talkative Tucker,” Nan answers.
He pauses while his face wrinkles in thought. “Actually…I’ll take it. Now, back to what we were saying.” He brings his fingers to his chin to remember.
I shake my head because these two together are a recipe for mayhem.
