Page 20 of If It Can't Be Us

She shut down. I pushed her too hard. Scrambling for something to say to make it better, make a joke… anything, she straightens, rolls her shoulders back, and extends her hand for a handshake. “Nicely played. You drive a hard bargain…Boss,” she says confidently, a sly half-smile creeping up one side of her mouth.

Impressed with her ability to gain composure, I take her hand, shaking it firmly. “You were a worthy opponent,” I reply with a grin. “I enjoyed every minute of it, love.”

“I did too,” she says sweetly. “Thank you for that. I haven’t laughed this much in a while. You’re a lot of fun, and… I’m really glad we ran into each other.”

“Me too. You were quite the surprise tonight. I didn’t expect to have this much fun with my neighbor.” I playfully elbow her. “My last neighbors were in their seventies, and while they were good for a friendly sidewalk chat, they didn’t quite bring the same excitement to the table. They also didn’t approve of me bringingstrangersto and from the home.”

“Hold on.” She puts her hand up in a stop sign. They would say stuff to you about you bringing women home?”

“Oh yeah, Gary would come over, knock on the door,”—I mime a knocking motion with my fist—“and he’d say”—I alter my voice to sound like him—“‘Brenda and I don’t appreciate you bringing strange women into the neighborhood. You’re putting us and our grandchildren in danger. You don’t know these women and what their true intentions are.’” I switch back to my normal voice. “Um… yeah, I do, mate. They just want a good shag.”

She laughs. “No. You’re not serious!”

“Dead serious.”

“Well, I guess I’m a big step-up in the neighbor department.”

I let my eyes slowly wander down her magnificent body and back up again, meeting hers with a charming and playful grin. “You most definitely are.”

She bites her bottom lip and then bursts out laughing. “God, you are such a flirt!” she says, giving my arm a playful shove. We laugh together for a few moments, and I take her in. She is stunning—the epitome of sex appeal. Her chocolate brown hair—similar to mine—just brushes her shoulders, drawing my eyes to her delicate frame. Her smooth olive skin has a summer tan, making me wonder if she has tan lines, and her eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen: a deep, bright green. Her full lips draw my gaze, and I imagine what they would feel like against mine. And that smile, it’s contagious. She’s petite yet fit, with muscles and curves in all the right places. And her tits are fantastic. Our eyes meet, and I feel an electric current run through my veins. I shrug it off as just the attraction I have for her.

She raises her water glass, her wine glass now empty. “I think this calls for a toast,Boss.”

I pick up my glass. “And what are we toasting to?”

“To being friends.”

“Are we friends?”

“Are we not?” she asks, scowling. “Are you one of those men who believes that men and women can’t be friends because secretly one of them will want to be morethan friends?”

“No, Walker, I’d say we’re officially friends. And while Icansay I’ll never want to be more than that, I’ll always want to have a go with you,” I say, laughing out loud at her shocked reaction.

“Oh, come on, we’re all adults here. Let’s be honest with each other. I find you incredibly attractive, and I believe you feel the same about me. But you’re practically celibate, and I’m apparently a man-whore… We can’t be anything but friends,” I continue, raising my glass again. “So, cheers to being friends.”

She blushes and slowly raises her glass to meet mine, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Cheers,” she says coolly.

I notice the time as I glance at my watch, reluctantly realizing that the evening needs to be wrapped up. “Shit. I’ve got to go. It’s poker night with the guys. If you’re going home, I’d love to walk you?”

Not only do I want to spend more time with her, there’s a part of me that wants to make sure she gets home safe. It’s not just about being a gentleman; there’s something about her that makes me want to protect her. Maybe it’s the vulnerability I sense beneath her confident exterior.

“Yes, I’d like that. Don’t we still need the check?”

“Nah, Noah will write what I owe in a logbook.” I slap a one-hundred-dollar bill down on the counter and scoot it toward Noah.

Vivian stands up, watching me amusedly as I gather my winnings.

We leave Craft’s. Walking side by side toward Water Street, she looks at me, “So… who was the girl?”

I give a confused look, knowing exactly who she means.

“The woman, coming out of your house last weekend,” she says.

“Ah, that woman. Let’s see… her name was Chrissy. She had blonde hair, a great ass, and gave amazing head.”

“Oh God! Never mind, I don’t want to know!” she exclaims, shaking her head.

“What? It was my birthday! I went out for a celebratory night with my friends, met an attractive woman, and brought a birthday present home for myself,” I say laughing. “The real question, Walker, is whyyoudon’t have men coming out of your house.”

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