Neighbors With Benefits: Chapter 5

When the two of them were over, the mood was relaxed. Just three neighbors sharing dinner and drinking wine while shit-talking the other neighbors on the block. But now that I was alone with Aiden, the vibe was different. There was tension in the air.

Sexual tension? Maybe. I wasn’t sure. But it was clear that the two of us felt different now that Bash was gone.

And Aiden was giving me what he probably thought was a friendly smile, but which held a flirty note to it. At least, that’s how I interpreted it.

“Sorry about Bash,” Aiden said. “Our jobs are usually pretty relaxed, but sometimes things go wrong and we have to scramble.”

“You two work together? What do you do?”

“We work for the corporate office of a grocery chain,” he explained, pausing to chew and swallow his pasta. “Bash and our other roommate are on the acquisition team. They travel to new cities and scout existing grocery stores that might be good candidates to purchase. They write up an acquisition plan and submit it to our executive team, who then decide whether or not to pull the trigger.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Aiden shrugged one shoulder. “It’s usually pretty boring. But sometimes a store we’re attempting to buy changes their mind at the last moment. Usually it’s a tactic to try to squeeze more money out of us, but this store up in Connecticut seems like they genuinely want to back out of the deal.”

“You said that’s what Bash and your other roommate do. Is that not your job, too?”

“Kind of. They’re the acquisition team, but I’m on the transition team. A few months after we’ve bought a store, I go in and help them move onto our system. I train them on our point-of-sale system, inventory management, everything. Our company is an expert at logistics, so that’s where we have a competitive edge over other chains. Getting new stores onto our system is crucial to our long-term success.”

“So that’s what Bash meant when he said you were a great teacher.”

Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know if I would say I’m great at it. But I’m solidly good at my job.”

“A B-tier employee,” I suggested.

He bobbed his head. “Exactly. I love my job, though. I get to travel about twenty weeks a year, and it’s always a new place. That keeps things fresh. What do you do? I meant to ask you at the party yesterday. You said you had to go in today?”

I leaned across the table like I was going to tell a secret. “It’s the most important job in the world.”

He leaned closer to me. “I’m listening.”

I lowered my voice. “I’m the manager… at Top Golf.”

Aiden’s eyes widened and he gasped. “No way. Are you even allowed to tell me? Will you have to move to a new city now that your secret identity has been revealed?”

“Thanks for pretending it matters,” I said with a laugh. “I like my job, but it’s as mundane as it gets. I schedule all the worker shifts at my location, and oversee food and equipment deliveries.”

“Top Golf is a cool place, though,” Aiden offered. “That’s more exciting than a regular restaurant.”

“I guess. But I’m happy there. I worked as an assistant for five years before getting promoted to manager. That’s how I was able to afford this house!”

Aiden grinned, which filled me with a tingling warmth. The wine probably helped. “Nice. We had to pool our resources to afford our place next door.”

“I should note that my parents helped me with the down payment,” I revealed. “But the mortgage payment is all mine.”

“Zero judgment. We Millennials need all the help we can get.”

I raised my wine glass. “Cheers to that.”

“This was amazing, by the way,” Aiden said, gesturing at his empty plate. “Better than what I was going to make.”

“Well, you helped make it better.”

“I added a single spice at the very end. That’s, like, five percent of the work.”

“I appreciate your expert taste buds nonetheless,” I said.

We smiled at each other. This night was going so well. I normally preferred to relax Sunday evening before the work week began, but I was enjoying my neighbor’s company more than I expected. I didn’t want him to leave just yet, but he was glancing at his watch. I desperately tried to think of a reason for him to stay.

“Are the Phillies playing tonight?” I asked. “I can put on the game.”

“They had a day game against the Mets,” Aiden replied.

“Ah, okay.”

A silence stretched, but I couldn’t think of any other reason to make him stay.

“Hey, is that Bananagrams?” Aiden pointed to a shelf behind me.

“Yes! I love word games.”

Aiden refilled both of our wine glasses until the bottle was empty. “Wanna play a few rounds? I need an excuse to stick around and drink the rest of the wine.”

I tried to suppress my happiness, but I ended up grinning anyway. “Let’s play on the floor in the living room. The rug makes it easier to pick up the tiles.”

“Smart. Speed is of the essence.”

I sat cross-legged on the living room rug, and Aiden stretched one leg out to the side while he sat. It wasn’t obvious while we were eating, but he was wearing the same sweatpants I’d seen when he was taking out the trash. Although baggy around the waist, they were more snug against his thighs and calves, accentuating the lean muscle. The blue T-shirt was like a highlighter for the muscles in his upper body while he dumped out the Bananagrams tiles.

“Any house rules?” he asked.

“If one of your words is incorrect, or misspelled or something, you automatically lose the game,” I said.

Aiden frowned at me. “Damn, Jazzy. That’s harsh.”

“You’d better make sure your words are correct before playing them, then,” I said primly.

I had a super power: I was amazing at word games like Bananagrams or Scrabble. I had been playing them with my parents since I was old enough to read.

But I didn’t want to totally destroy Aiden. I wanted him to like me. Just in a friendly, neighborly way. Nothing more. I couldn’t get involved with a guy who literally lived next door to me.

Yet, Cat’s teases from yesterday echoed in my head: “It’s only fair that you taste his pie before he tastes yours.”

“What’s so funny?” Aiden asked.

I shook off the thought. “Nothing. Ready when you are.”

The objective to Bananagrams was to make a bunch of words that connected, like Scrabble. Except each participant played at the same time, and the first to use all their letters won. I went easy on him the first game, taking my time between words.

“You’re a Phillies fan?” I asked while moving tiles around on the rug.

Aiden nodded. “Phillies, Eagles, Fliers, Sixers. In that order.”

“So you’re from Philadelphia?”

“Born and raised.” He played a word and flipped over some new tiles. “Lived here my whole life, except four years when I was at Boston College.”

My eyes cut up to him. “No shit? I went to UMass.”

Aiden chuckled. “Small world. I dated a UMass girl. She was…” He glanced up at me before looking back at his letters. “I won’t tell you what I thought of her.”

“I dated a guy at Boston College. He was actually great. He lived in Greycliff Hall.”

“Hah! I was next door in Vanderslice Dorm.”

“Very small world,” I said.

“What happened to Mr. Greycliff?”

I shrugged. “We only dated a month.”

“Ah, lame. What went wrong?”

“Nothing was wrong. That’s just how long most of my relationships last.”

He raised a brow at me. “Is that by choice, or coincidence?”

“Eh. I don’t know,” I said. “Every guy I’ve ever dated lasts about a month, and then I kind of get sick of them. I realize that I don’t want anything long-term with them, so I end it. I’m a pragmatic woman.”

“Respect,” Aiden said. “Better to end it rather than letting it drag on.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed. “You’re the first person who understands. All my friends, like Cat, ridicule me for not staying in relationships longer.”

“She’s the one with the nose ring at the party?” Aiden asked.

“Yup.”

“I think she was trying to be your wingman,” he said. “Or wingwoman, I guess. She was talking you up a lot.”

“Hah, that’s Cat all right,” I said with a nervous laugh. I was going to kill Cat the next time I saw her.

“Bananas!” Aiden said, holding up his hands.

I blinked. “You won already?”

He leaned toward me and grinned. “I didn’t want to brag, but I like word games.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding appreciatively. “Well done. Now we can play for real.”

Aiden leaned back and examined me. “Wait a minute. Did you just let me win?”

“I was unfamiliar with your game,” I said, shuffling all the letter tiles together. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Good,” he said, downing the rest of his wine and giving me a wicked smile. “Because I wasn’t trying my hardest last game.”

I cracked my knuckles. “Bring it on.”

We started the next game, both of us bent over our tiles on the floor of the living room. For the first minute, we were too focused on the game to say anything. But once we started playing words, the trash talking began.

“That’s the word you’re going with?” Aiden asked.

“What’s wrong with the word snooze?”

“Nothing, if you want to lose,” he replied without looking up.

“Snooze is a fine word.”

“You should save the S to tack onto the end of other words,” he said.

“Thanks for mansplaining the game to me, but I don’t need rookie tactics like that to win,” I replied.

“If you say so… BANANAS!” he blurted out.

I gasped and looked at his words. “No way you finished that fast.”

He leaned back on his palms. “Check my work. And then tell me how great I am.”

Unfortunately, every word he used was valid. I gritted my teeth. “I was still holding back.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to win the next one.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said.

I glared playfully at him while scrambling the tiles again.

The next game was played in complete silence. I won, but just barely—Aiden was about three seconds away from ending the game himself.

“That was impressive to behold,” he admitted. “But I’m still winning two games to one.”

“Savor it while you can,” I teased.

Our hands were a flurry of activity as we started the fourth game. This time I decided to try to throw him off by chatting as we played.

“You like the Phillies more than the Eagles?”

“Damn right I do. Bryce Harper is a hero who deserves a statue alongside Rocky Balboa. And you can’t distract me with questions. I can multi-task.”

“I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“Sure you are. Do you have any teams you follow? You grew up in Colorado?”

I nodded. “But the Rockies were never any good, so I became a Red Sox fan when I was in college.”

Aiden played a long word that made me wince. “Boston has the most insufferable sports fans in the world.”

“Take that back!” I demanded.

“They’re spoiled! The Patriots and Red Sox have more rings in the past two decades than most cities have in their entire history. And that’s not even talking about how good the Celtics and Bruins have been.”

“It’s not my fault Boston is a city of champions.”

“No, but you have to suffer to be a real fan. You have to earn your championships by enduring losing seasons.”

“Is that what makes a good fan?” I asked. “Suffering?”

“Absolutely. Philadelphia fans know years of suffering. It hardens us. Makes us tough.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” I said, playing another word. I only had half my tiles remaining to play, but so did Aiden.

He wasted a second glancing up at me. “How would you describe it?”

“Come on. Philadelphia is famous for having the worst fans in the world.”

“We’re passionate. That’s all.”

“Don’t get me wrong: I love living here,” I said, playing another word. “But the most famous athlete in your city isn’t even real! Rocky Balboa is a fictional character!”

His dark eyes sparkled. “You’re dangerously close to dropping down to the B-tier.”

“So I’m currently in the A-tier? Hell yes.” I slammed down my final word and threw my hands up. “BANANAS!”

Aiden groaned. “You distracted me with slander against a Philadelphia hero. That wasn’t fair.”

I gave him the most smug smile I could manage. “I thought you said you couldn’t be distracted.”

“You’re uniquely good at getting under my skin. Two to two,” he said, shuffling the tiles together. “One more game to break the tie?”

I stuck out my chin. “Do your worst.”

He smirked. “Be careful what you wish for.”

We divided up the tiles, stared at each other, then began the next round. My hands were a flurry of activity as I flipped over the tiles to reveal the letters, organizing them into words and potential words. I tried not to glance at Aiden’s tiles, but it was hard not to glance up and see how he was doing.

I created words, tore them down, made new ones. When I got stuck, I exchanged one tile for three more. All I needed was an S and I would be able to…

There.

I slid the tiles into place.

“BANANAS!” we both shouted at the same time.

“Was that a tie?” I asked.

“I think I was a split second quicker than you.”

“No way! We said it at the exact same time!”

He leaned forward and examined my tiles. “You could have won if you used the S from this word over here. You would have finished ten seconds ago.”

“I won anyway!” I said.

Aiden shook his head. “Nope. I was first.”

“You were not!” I replied, half playing and half angry.

He pointed down at my words. “You also should have done this instead…”

I playfully slapped his hand away. “Don’t you dare touch my tiles!”

He laughed along with me. “As the winner of the game, I’m trying to show you how you can improve.”

I scoffed and reached past him to maneuver his own tiles. “I think you would have done better if you did this.” Then I scrambled them all up chaotically.

“You’re ruining my flawless word tree!” he complained.

I mimicked his voice and said, “As the winner of the game, I’m trying to show you how you can improve.”

Aiden grabbed my wrist, and I squealed as we play-fought. I swung a leg out and kicked him in the side. He grunted and fell sideways, giving me enough time to really mess up his tiles.

“How dare you!” he exclaimed with faux-outrage.

“Oh, I dare!”

He pushed me backwards until I was on my back on the rug. Then he grabbed both of my wrists in one strong fist and pinned them above my head. With his free hand, he started grabbing tiles off the floor next to me.

“Here’s a good word for you,” he said, carefully placing the tiles on my forehead. “L-O-S-E-R.”

I shook my head, sending tiles everywhere. Aiden sighed. “Now I have to start over. I bet I can spell out a more offensive word.”

“No!” I squirmed in his grasp, almost freeing my wrists, but then he gave up on trying to spell a word and used both hands to pin my wrists out to either side of me.

Aiden was on top of me now, leaning in and sneering wickedly. “Admit I won.”

“Never!” I declared. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“That can be arranged.” His dark eyes scanned the ground next to me. “I see two Ds and an A. All I need is an E and I can spell DEAD across your forehead…

I wriggled and fought against him, but Aiden was too strong. He barely seemed to be trying to hold me down, that’s how easy it was for him. Being under his control caused a tingling feeling in my stomach, and I stopped fighting. He was gorgeous as he stared down at me, eyes shining in victory—both at the game and in our play-wrestling match. His scent filled my nose, stirring something deeper inside of me. And I could feel something warm within his sweatpants pressing against my thigh…

Our gazes remained locked together as his smile faded. I could tell what he was thinking because it was the exact same thing going through my head.

He leaned down, and I pushed my lips up to meet his, desperate to feel them…

Before we could connect, he let go of my wrists and sat back on his haunches. There was definitely a bulge in his sweatpants, which matched my own lady-wood.

“I, uh, have to go,” he suddenly said.

Aiden rushed out of my house, leaving me confused on the rug.