Page 101 of Neighbors With Benefits

These were small things, hardly the foundation of a goddamn crush. But still. When I was near her, close enough to smell that flowery scent of her bodywash or whatever the fuck it was, I struggled to think straight. Sometimes she made my chest tighten so much that I couldn’t breathe.

It was ridiculous. I had only known this woman for a few days. I didn’tknowher.

But that wasn’t really true, if I was being honest with myself. I’d been getting updates from Aiden and Bash for weeks while I was out of town. First they told me that a hot woman was moving in next door, and she didn’t have a boyfriend or husband helping her. Then they texted me about the housewarming party, explaining that she had accidentally walked in on Bashin the bathroom. How she was adorably embarrassed about the entire thing.

The timing was so convenient, too. Jazz popped into their lives the exact same day that we had been rejected by that woman from the polyamory dating site. Carmen or whatever. We had struck out for so long, and Carmen was one of the only women to show interest in our unusual situation. Her rejection stung.

But Jazz had filled that void, both in the hopes of my roommates and in my own subconscious. I had refused to accept it. I’d rejected the entire idea, pushing it deep down where I couldn’t even consider it.

Then Jazz fell, and I helped her back up. Our fingers remained intertwined for an extra heartbeat, my other hand braced on her back for two long breaths. She gazed up at me with gratitude and something deeper.

Something close to lust.

I wasn’t a fucking virgin. I knew that look well. And for some goddamn reason, seeing it in Jazz’s eyes caught me off guard.

Damnit.

As I resumed my work, it was easy to put her out of my thoughts. Especially since I was up on a ladder and she was down below me, out of sight. Not to mention the fact that my work was dangerous and required every ounce of my focus.

But every time I climbed down the ladder to adjust my welding tool, or when we took another beer break, I found myself glancing at Jazz. My eyes were pulled toward her like a compass toward a magnet.

And a few times, she caught me looking.

Like I said: I preferred it when people were brutally honest. I hated when people kept secrets, or pretended one thing whilefeeling something totally different. To me, that was similar to a lie.

I hated it even more when I was the one lying to myself.

I glanced up, and my gaze collided with Jazz’s. I quickly turned away and finished my beer.

Damnit.

37

Jazz

It wasn’t my imagination, right?

Dante was legitimately nicer to me now than he was when we started this project. We had gone from working a full day in silence on Saturday, to making small talk on Sunday, to being unambiguously friendly on Monday afternoon.

And he definitely checked me out when I bent over to retrieve something from his toolbox. He tried covering it up, but a woman always knew.

There was a tension between us, too. Different than the tension when we’d first met. Both of us moved deliberately, like we were hyper-conscious of each other’s personal space. And even more aware of the rare times when our space mingled together. Our arms almost brushed together, and I imagined that I could feel his body heat against my skin. When I handed him a ratchet, our fingers briefly touched, and it was like electricity was connecting our two souls for a split second.

Despite all of this, I wondered if it was all in my head. I had over-analyzed my fair share of situations before. It was one of the things I was best at.

But this entire situation felt eerily similar to how things were with Bash. Stolen glances. Shared space. Secret smiles.

And lots of wondering.

“That’s a good stopping point,” Dante said, climbing down the ladder. “All we have left are the window panes, then we can start hauling fertilizer.”

“Sounds good to me. Same time tomorrow?” I asked.

He pulled off his work gloves and tossed them in his toolbox. “Wednesday. I’m busy tomorrow.”

“Oh? What do you have going on?”

“Doing whatever I want without getting interrogated for it,” he said bluntly.

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