Page 57 of Neighbors With Benefits

He held my hand a few seconds longer, then cleared his throat and let go. “I’ll cut the rest for you.”

The finished product was extremely mediocre, so we cut our losses after one bite and ordered pizza instead. Neither of us minded; pizza and beer suited our mood while we watched the Sunday night baseball game.

“Thanks,” I said as he handed me another beer in the fourth inning. “And thanks for failing at making eggplant parmesan with me.”

“It was still fun!” he said, plopping down on the couch next to me, leaving about a foot of space between us. “I’m glad we’re still hanging out while Aiden’s gone. Sometimes it’s tough when the other guys are out of town for work.”

“You don’t like the solitude?”

“It’s nice… for a day or two.” He shrugged. “I’m a people person. I’m happier when I’m around other people, even if they’re boring.”

“Ouch,” I said.

He looked sideways at me. “What I mean is I’ll settle for boring people. But you’re a treat. I feel like we won the lottery when you moved in next door.”

“I feel that way too!” I replied.

We clinked our beer bottles together and went back to watching the game. His comment was nice to receive because I also felt lonely while Aiden was out of town, and hanging out with Bash helped that. I was glad he didn’t know I was sleeping with Aiden, or we definitely wouldn’t have had this friendship.

Aiden’s second baked good delivery was simple, but effective: brownies. But they weren’t the regular brownies I made from amix—these were the most moist, flavorful brownies I’d ever had in my life.

A week after that, he sent me chocolate-covered peanut brittle. That wasn’t my favorite, but they were still insanely good.

“You ought to open a bakery,” I said over Facetime that evening. We had already spent half an hour having phone sex, and were both in that wonderful post-orgasm lull.

Aiden snorted. “No way.”

“I’m serious! Everything you’ve sent me could be sold to customers. People would pay premium for this kind of quality. Call them artisanal and you could charge way too much. You’d make a killing.”

Aiden was shaking his head. “What I meant was no way, I don’t want to turn this into a business. I enjoy cooking and baking for fun. Trying to monetize my hobby would turn it into a chore.”

“True. I guess I’ll continue reaping the rewards of your master craft.”

“Besides,” he said, “I already have a job I enjoy.”

“Even though it takes you away from your fuck-buddy for weeks at a time?”

“In spite of that, yes,” he admitted. “But hey! I fly back to Philadelphia on Monday! Not this Monday, but the week after. I’ll be home for a week before I head out on another trip.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” I replied. “I put it on my calendar and highlighted it in red.”

Aiden flashed an easy smile on the screen. “We’ll have to make the most of our time, even if it means playing fewer Scrabble matches.”

“I can’t wait.”

It was true: I couldn’t wait for him to get back.

But a part of me, a very small part, was going to miss my solo time with Bash. And that realization made it tough to fall asleep that night.

21

Jazz

“Hand me the putty knife?” Bash asked.

I handed it to him, swapping out the chisel he had already been using. Bash was on his hands and knees in my bathroom. I had insisted that he didn’t need to replace the tile for me, especially after helping paintthreerooms in my house, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was his assistant, sitting cross-legged in my bathtub while handing him tools.

Most of the time I just sat there trying not to seem too obvious while admiring his physique. With a white tank-top and a leather tool belt around his waist, he looked like what you would get if you Googled “Handyman Halloween costume.” Which was to say he looked extremely sexy. The way he was kneeling, leaning forward to spread grout and place each tile, gave me an unimpeded view of the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and upper back. Corded muscle that continuously flexed and went taut every time he shifted his weight.

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