Page 17 of Never Kiss Your Neighbors

She smirks. “I might have been, but it was clear that they only have eyes for you.”

While Jessie plays in her room for a few minutes before it’s time to get ready for bed, I catch Marissa up on how I first met the men this morning at the store, and also on Ana’s visit.

“She was horrified to find out how long it’s been since I had sex,” I tell Marissa, who already knows about my years of abstinence. “She encouraged me to go have sex with someone as soon as possible.”

“Well, one of those men would certainly be a good candidate,” Marissa says.

CHAPTER11

STELLA

Two days later, while I’m working, the doorbell rings, and when I answer it, a delivery truck is already driving off. There’s a box on the welcome mat, which I assume must be Marissa’s, because I’m not expecting anything, but when I pick it up, I find it’s addressed to Wyatt Wilson.

The address doesn’t match ours, either. The house number is one digit off, and the street is the next one over, where Cam and Wyatt live.

I think about texting Wyatt, since I have his number. In fact, the men both messaged me yesterday in a group chat to ask about Goldfish, who’s thankfully back to his normal self. He’s been eating fine, with no more upset stomach.

Since Goldfish is due for a walk, I clip his leash onto his collar, and decide we’ll be good neighbors and deliver the package rather than asking Wyatt to pick it up.

The box isn’t particularly small, but it’s light. Probably a new Nerf gun. Or maybe a LEGO set. I wonder what other kinds of toys they play with.

Then a wicked thought pops into my head. Do they also play with the types of toys grownups play with in the bedroom?

Whoa, where did that come from? I’ve never played with sex toys. I don’t even own a vibrator, but my brain just conjured an image of Cam and Wyatt tying me to a bedpost and tickling me with a feather.

As I turn the corner, I see a couple of cars parked in front of the men’s house and another in the driveway. There are two women in one car, who are sitting there talking with their windows down as I go by. Another woman is standing outside of the next car, leaning against it, her body aimed toward the men’s home.

When I step onto the walkway that leads to the men’s front porch, the standing woman calls out to me. “Hey, who are you? Do you know them?”

I turn, answering automatically, even though I’m bewildered and a little alarmed by the question. “I’m a neighbor. Why?” Did something happen to them?

“Ooh, a neighbor. Lucky you.” The woman nods at me, and I turn and continue up the path. Maybe more fans of theirs?

Several seconds after I ring the doorbell, the inner door is opened, and another female voice greets me. Well, greet isn’t the right word. Actually, quite the opposite.

“What are you doing up here? I told you you need to keep your distance,” the irritated voice warns.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t keep bothering the men. They’re trying to work.”

“Um …I’m not here to bother them. I’m dropping off a package that was delivered to the wrong house.”

Is this one of their girlfriends? Surely Cam wouldn’t have asked for my number if he’s involved with someone, but maybe she’s Wyatt’s girlfriend.

A face appears behind the screen of the security door, assessing me. “Where do you live?”

“Directly behind here. Next block over.”

The woman’s eyes dart out to the street, before the lock clicks and the door opens. “C’mon in.”

“My dog’s with me,” I say.

“That’s okay. C’mon in, little pooch.” The woman’s tone softens as she takes the package from me and sets it down near the door. “Sorry for the inquisition. Can’t be too careful.”

“What’s going on?”

The woman locks the screen door immediately after she closes it behind me.

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