Page 23 of The One Next Door

“You really don’t have to go,” I repeated. “Or, at least let me take you home. I can…”

“I’m good to drive, Carter,” she insisted. She was practically out the door and I’d followed her there. “I promise. You go enjoy… you know. Enjoy being twenty-six.”

She left. I watched her through the bar’s front windows as she drove away.

“Let’s dance, Carter,” Caroline said. She grabbed my arm and tried to pull me into the center of the room where her friends and a couple of locals were whooping it up toSweet Home Alabama.

My feet wouldn’t move. “Not tonight.”

Seven

Zoe

I got home and changed out of my scrubs feeling like the world’s biggest loser. But at least I could take a hint, right? I got out of that bar with my dignity intact and didn’t make as ass of myself in front of Carter and the hot girl.

I wasn’t an idiot. My neighbor was a hot man in his late twenties and while he wasconsiderablyless asshole-ish tonight, he was definitely not interested in me. Of course he wanted to spend his night with the hot girl. She was young and fun. With no ex-husband or kid. Or vomit on her clothes.

I made my way downstairs to get some tea, peaking in my son’s room on my way downstairs. It was nothing like his room in his father’s house. The bed was smaller. The walls were off-white, not blue, which was his favorite color. And it just didn’t look as lived-in yet. Nowhere in this house did.

I wondered if he’d ever love this place the way he loved that house.

I hoped that I could make this place feel like home for him.

For the both of us.

That had to be my priority. Rex. Us. Our new life.

I shook my head as I reached the kitchen, making quick work of filling the electric kettle and selecting my favorite peppermint tea. After his weekend with his father, I’d pick up Rex and we’d get a pizza and talk about how to make this place more… ours.

I sipped the tea, feeling ridiculous for giving Carter Kane any of my mental energy. I leaned against the wall, looking out the front window, just as his car pulled into Carter’s driveway and he got out and went inside. Alone. Without the hot girl.

I felt even more ridiculous for smiling about it.

The next day,I picked Rex up from his father’s house and we drove straight toPizza Pizza, the best pizza in Blue Creek with the least creative name. The waitress came by with our pizza and set it up on a stand in the center of the table.

“Half plain cheese, half jalapeño pineapple,” she announced. She served us each a slice from our respective halves and I took a bite.

“I can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza,” Rex said, shaking his head.

“You say that every time we come here and I keep telling you it’s delicious. Want to try some?”

He scrunched up his face like I was offering him a piece of smelly fish.

“No thank you,” he said. “Dad says that pineapple on pizza is sacrilege.”

I rolled my eyes. I could picture Desmond turning his nose up and calling itculinary sac-ree-laagein that pretentious fake French accent.

“Well, I like it. And you should try things before you write them off, you know. You might be surprised.”

Rex looked doubtful. “I think I’ll stick to cheese.”

Rex took a big bite, getting sauce on his face and I smiled. No amount of smarts made you too good for cheesy pizza.

“How’s school going?” I asked him.

His easy smile faded. “Some days are fine. Some days are hard,” he answered.

“Really? How so?”

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