Page 83 of Neighbors With Benefits

“What?” I asked.

“You’re not telling me everything. Just spit it out, Jazzy.”

I sighed. “You know me too well. The third neighbor, Dante, said he’s not interested. He said he’s not into blondes.”

“I’m not into blondes either,” Cat muttered, “but I’d throw my grandma down a flight of stairs for a chance to sleep with Margot Robbie.”

“Aww. You think I’m on the same level as Margot Robbie?”

“Sometimes we lie, Jazz,” Cat replied with a grin. “Forget about the third guy. Focus on the other two.”

“So back to my question: what do I do?”

“Stop overthinking it, first of all.”

“You’re asking too much from me,” I replied.

“How about this.” Cat put her fork down and wiped her hands on a napkin. “Today’s Tuesday. Invite the guys over for game night, just like everything is normal. Have a few drinks before they come over, and have more when they arrive. Get sloppy and see what happens.”

“Do I really want drunk-Jazz making decisions for me?”

“If it’s the way to get you to relax enough to get double-teamed by your two hot neighbors? Hell yes. Put drunk-Jazz in charge and let that slutmonster take the wheel!”

We laughed together, and I dug into my salad.

I was thinking about it, now.

30

Aiden

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Jazz. Our fight last night. How I had screwed everything up.

I was back in the office for a week, and had a lot of paperwork to do before my next trip. Normally I would put my headphones on and grind it out. But I couldn’t focus. I stared at my computer screen, the same form I had been looking at all morning, and tried to resist the urge to text Jazz.

The worst part about all of this was how much Imissedher. We hadn’t seen each other in weeks, and I was jumping on a plane six days from now. This was supposed to be a rejuvenating week verifying that the flame of our new relationship still burned strong. I worried that if I didn’t spend quality time with Jazz this week, we wouldn’t survive another weeks-long trip. We were wasting precious time together.

If we are even still together.

I rested my forehead on my keyboard. I had told her things were casual. Friends with benefits. But I couldn’t deny it: the aching pit in my stomach spoke of a deeper connection.

I had real feelings for Jazz. Feelings that were stronger than I had ever felt in past relationships.

Eventually, I was able to end my pity-party long enough to do some real work. Which, of course, was when Jazz finally texted me.

Jazz: Game night at my place tonight? Like normal?

I wanted to replyinstantly, but I made myself put the phone down, go get a cup of afternoon coffee, and then return before replying.

Me: I’m glad you texted. Sounds good. Can I bring anything?

Jazz: I’m going to eat dinner beforehand, but you can bring some snacks if you want. I’ll have wine and beer.

I fist-pumped in my office. Things weren’t over. At least, they didn’t seem to be over based on the way she phrased her text.

I began wondering if she had invited Bash, or if it was going to be just the two of us. I was happy either way—it would be nice to get some private time with Jazz, but if the three of us were all together, now that all the cards were on the table…

---