Page 2 of Necessary Roughness

I couldn’t help but be curious about the type of person that could afford such a large, lavish house. Finally, someone walked directly into my line of sight.

My heart stopped.

Luke Dalton.

The recently retired, thirty-five-year-old NFL player I had spent the past few months practically mocking in my column and on my podcast.

No, I thought.This can’t be. He probably just rented the house for the weekend.

But judging from the words “Bedroom Stuff” written on the large box, it was probably safe to assume that he was going to be there for a while.

Luckily for me, Luke hadn’t seen me. I inched over to the side and poked my head around the drapes.

Great, now I looked like a spy. Or worse, some peeping Tom.

But I couldn’t help myself. I had to peek. I desperately needed to know more. I couldn’t wrap my brain around the idea that Luke Dalton might be my new neighbor.

What kind of twisted luck is this?

Suddenly, I realized that he was no longer in my line of sight, and I’d been staring at his empty bedroom for a while.

Okay, I thought.This is fine. I won’t go to the beach. I won’t use the pool. I can just stay inside all summer and watch TV with Stacy.

The doorbell rang, shocking me out of my thoughts, and I screamed. Full-on, top-of-my-lungsscreamed.

Was Luke at my door?

“Ding Dong! It’s me, Stacy!” Stacy squawked from the living room.

Shut up, bird!I thought.He’ll hear you!

Just then, my phone dinged, and I looked down to see a text from my best friend, Claire Sutton:Open up, the door is locked!

Thank God. Claire, my bestie, was always good for a laugh. She’d help me calm down. Or she’d mock me mercilessly for ending up living next door to my arch nemesis.

Okay, maybe arch nemesis was a bit strong, but this was not a good situation.

I rushed out of the bedroom and toward the staircase. Unfortunately, I was completely lost within the giant house. I wasn’t sure if it was the overall size of the home, or my complete stupor after seeing Luke next door, but my brain wasn’t functioning. Two minutes later, and I’d covered a lot of ground within the house, but still hadn’t found my way back to the front door.

Claire, growing frustrated, rang the doorbell again.

“Ding Dong! It’s?—”

“Stacy, shut up!” I yelled, as I finally made it to the front door and opened it for Claire.

“I have two questions,” she said, pulling the cold brew iced coffee away from her lips to speak. “One, why thehellare you living next to Luke Dalton, and two, who the fuck is Stacy?”

Claire and I had known each other for almost fifteen years, having met our first year of college. She had voluminous curlyblonde hair that she wore in an effortlessly wild way. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief and intelligence. Her charm delighted most people she met, which was great since she was a realtor and people skills are important in that field.

“Living?” I asked. “Don’t you think Luke might just be renting the house for the weekend?”

Claire didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and nodded at the professional movers carrying large boxes into the neighboring house. Turning back toward me, she raised an eyebrow.

“You really think Luke is here just for the weekend?” she asked.

I groaned.

Before I could answer, we overheard Luke’s voice as he called out to the movers about a large couch.

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