Neighbors With Benefits: Chapter 23

The crowd cheered like it was the end of the Super Bowl. Bash spun around to grin at me, and then started jogging in my direction. Somehow, I knew exactly what he wanted to do, so I jogged toward him. When we reached each other, we both jumped into the air, bumping chests. That made the spectators cheer even louder.

“I can’t believe we beat the Schultinators,” Bash said, wrapping me in his sweaty arms and squeezing me tightly. “Aiden and I always lose to them.”

I clung to his hard, strong body. He was as sturdy as a brick wall. “I can’t believe I won my first tournament! I’m undefeated!”

“Time to retire while you’re on top,” he said.

“Screw that! I want to win the next tournament, too!”

We collected our trophy, ordered beers, and joined Cat at one of the tables inside. “That was amazing! You two are such a good team!” she said.

Bash pointed at her. “You’re the enlightened bisexual, right?”

Cat beamed at me. “I like him. He truly sees me.”

“I may have told him about you.”

“I’m glad tales of my glory are being spread far and wide.”

“Thanks for coming out to cheer us on,” Bash said. “And thanks for letting me borrow Jazz. I know you two had plans.”

Cat flicked a hand dismissively. “You can borrow her any time. It was more entertaining watching you two have sweaty fun out there.”

I gave her a look, but she ignored me.

We shared a drink while making small talk. Bash talked about his job, while Cat asked very pointed questions about his love life: if he was dating anyone, how long his last relationship lasted, if he saw himself settling down eventually.

Finally, Cat stood up and said, “I don’t want to crash your victory party, so I’m going to head home. Be responsible with your victory drinks: Lyft is cheap out here.”

“We actually walked,” I told her as we left the restaurant. “Our street is less than half a mile away.”

“I get it, your new neighborhood is amazing,” she muttered.

When we were outside, I gave her a playful shove. “You weren’t exactly subtle with your questions in there.”

“Forget subtle. He’s into you, Jazz!”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re good friends.”

“And you could be more than that. I saw the way he looked at you. When you got up to go to the bathroom, his eyes followed you the whole way. He wants to slam your clam.”

“Cat!”

“He wants to—”

“I swear,” I said, “if you say any more silly euphemisms, I’m going to retrieve my paddle and beat you with it!”

“I know you mean that as a threat, but I’m actually super into spanking.”

“CAT!”

She gave me a hug, and her face became serious. “I’m not just fucking around with you, Jazz. That man is into you. In a big way. Do with that information what you will.”

Cat gave me one more pointed stare, then went to her car.

“I couldn’t decide between cheese fries and nachos,” Bash said when I returned, “so I ordered both. I hope that’s okay.”

“That’s the most okay decision anyone has ever made. We’re on the same wavelength.”

He leaned forward on the table. “Like with that chest bump when we won!”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever chest bumped anyone!” I revealed with a giggle. “I could tell that’s what you wanted to do, though.”

“You’re a natural.” The waiter then arrived with our food. Bash bit into a nacho and said, “Your friend is nice. I think she was hitting on me all night, though.”

“She’s flirty with everyone,” I replied. “Don’t read into it.”

“Well…” Bash took a long sip of beer. “When you were in the bathroom, she started rambling about being a bisexual. Said the best part is having threesomes with other couples. Then she asked if I had ever had a threesome. Does she ask everyone that?”

I closed my eyes and groaned. “Sometimes. She’s one of those people who has no filter. She over-shares.”

“Apparently so.”

“Sorry about Cat. I hope her question didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s all good. I answered her question, she teased me a bit, and then you got back from the bathroom and she quickly changed the subject.”

I pretended to focus on the cheese fries and asked, “You answered her question? What did you say?”

“I told her I’d had threesomes before.”

It took all of my willpower not to choke on the fries in my mouth. I made my face a mask of surprised curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

Bash shrugged. “Sure.” His cheeks reddened slightly, and he picked at the nachos.

Over the past few weeks, Bash and I had talked about pretty much every topic in the world. But we had never discussed sex. At least, not directly. It felt like wading into the deep end of a pool—I wasn’t sure where the bottom was, and I was feeling out my own comfort level.

But I’d had several beers by this point, which gave me the courage to say, “Threesomes, plural? Look at you, having so much fun!”

He shrugged again, and said with a smirk, “It’s been a while.”

“That’s the dream for men, right?” I said. “Sleeping with two women at the same time?”

“Yeah, I guess…” His blue-eyed gaze colliding with mine. “I’ve never had that kind of threesome, though.”

Confused, I started to ask what he meant.

Then I realized.

His threesomes involved one woman and two men.

“Oh.”

“To be clear,” he added, “I’m not an enlightened bisexual like Cat. I’m extremely straight.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“But yeah…” A distant look came to his eyes, and he smiled. “They’re fun. A lot of fun.”

“I bet. Especially for the lucky woman!”

“All right, now I’m the one over-sharing,” he said.

“Not at all!” I said. “I’ll balance things out by over-sharing too: I’ve never had a threesome.”

I had never talked about my sex life like this with a guy. It was strangely freeing. Just a topic like any other, without guilt or baggage attached. It was nice.

A thoughtful expression came to Bash. “Most people haven’t, I assume.”

A thousand questions came to me. How long ago did it happen? Who was he with? Was he in a relationship with the woman, or was it a one-night stand?

Before I could ask any, the waiter was at our table. “How about another round?”

“Absolutely,” Bash said. “We’re celebrating, after all!”

We never got back to that subject while we finished our meal, but it wasn’t awkward. Bash was easy to be around, and we were both tipsy from the beers and from our Pickleball victory.

“You were so competitive,” Bash said while we walked home. “I didn’t know you had that side of you!”

“Neither did I! I don’t know what came over me. I got into such a nice groove.”

“It was a sight to behold. I’m glad you’re on my team.” He put his arm around me and gave me one of those weird half-hugs as we walked. “I’m glad you’re my friend. You’re really awesome, Jazz.”

“Same!” I replied, smiling on the outside and the inside. “Honestly, I was kind of worried things would be awkward after Aiden went out of town, but I feel really close to you.”

“You’d better,” he replied. “I’m just as cool as Aiden. Cooler, even.”

“It’s not a competition,” I scolded.

“Everything is a competition! Even lighthearted Pickleball games!”

We laughed as we walked down our street. We passed in front of one house, and I saw a silhouette move in front of a lit window. The blinds were closed, but one of them moved slightly.

“That’s Karen Dermatt!” Bash whispered. “I told you she’s a snoop! She’s probably sending a text message to the HOA right now to report us for a noise violation.”

“It’s only eight-thirty!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Noise ordinances begin at nine! WE’RE FREEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Shhh,” Bash said, wrapping one arm around me and pressing a finger to my lips. That only made me buckle with laughter, which caused him to laugh. We were a laughing, shushing, tangled mess as we reached our end of the street.

“Don’t look,” Bash whispered, “but I think Voldemort is watching us.”

I immediately swiveled my head toward his house, the one with the faded white paint.

“I said don’t look!” Bash hissed at me.

“I can’t help it! Where do you see him?”

“Front window,” he said. “Left of the door.”

I kept my head forward while using only my eyes to glance toward the house in question, hoping that wouldn’t make it look like I was staring. The blinds were in uniform rows of white… except for one in the middle. The edge of it was tilted upward, creating a triangle-shaped gap.

Suddenly, the blind dropped into place. The gap was gone.

“Shit!” I blurted out.

“Told you!” Bash said, quickening his steps. “Hopefully he’s not getting a gun.”

“I thought you said he keeps to himself, and doesn’t bother anyone unless they step onto his property.”

“So far, yes. But I don’t want to be the exception when he decides to go postal.”

Without warning, I took off at a sprint. Bash let out a surprised yelp, then chased after me until we reached our houses. I was laughing when we stopped, giddy with excitement despite the danger—whether it was real or imagined.

“Thanks for joining me today,” Bash said. “I’m glad I didn’t have to forfeit the tournament.”

“You’re just glad because we won!”

“Spending the afternoon with a woman as amazing as you is a treat all by itself,” he countered. “Winning is just the icing on the cake.”

“Great,” I said. “Now I want cake!”

“But seriously,” he reiterated. “Thanks, Jazz. I’m lucky you moved in next door.”

“I feel like the lucky one.”

He held out his arms, and I went in for a hug. Our bodies folded together like perfect puzzle pieces, and I rested my head against his shoulder. Bash’s scent was familiar to me now, a mixture of comforting and enticing. I felt my pulse quicken as he squeezed harder, not allowing the hug to end.

I didn’t want it to end, either.

And when we pulled away, we remained in each other’s arms. His breath mingled with mine, our personal space still joined. His impossibly blue eyes were unreadable as he gazed down at me, like he was searching for something. Or waiting.

My desire for him was overwhelming in that moment. I wanted to kiss him, to give in to the undeniable attraction that had been building in strength for the past few weeks. I wanted confirmation that he felt the same way, that it wasn’t all in my head.

And I was sure that he wanted all of the same things.

But I wasn’t certain. Not enough to make the move.

Bash must have been uncertain too, because his grip on me finally relented. He ran a hand through his hair, gave me a coy little smile, and then said, “Night, Jazz.”

I stood frozen in place, watching him walk into his house.

As soon as I was back inside my home, I let out an annoyed snarl. “What is wrong with you, Jazz?” I berated myself. “Why can’t you just make the move?”

I punched the pillow on my couch and screamed in frustration. This was just like me. Bash had given me every green light imaginable, but was too much of a gentleman to make the move unless he was certain. And I was too much of a coward to give him the signal he needed.

“Stupid Jazz,” I grumbled, punching my couch pillow again. But my hand slid off the edge of it and slammed into the wooden armrest. I cried out in pain, cradling my hand.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. It opened immediately, and Bash stuck his head inside. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, I just…” I held up my hand, but the pain was already passing. “What are you doing?”

Bash closed the door behind him and crossed the room on long strides. “This.”

He cradled my head in his hands and kissed me.