Neighbors With Benefits: Chapter 7

I paced around my kitchen like the house was on fire.

Had that really just happened? Play-wrestling on the floor of my living room like teenagers? It felt so normal and natural at the time, teasing and joking about our Bananagrams rivalry. I didn’t even notice when it turned more… romantic.

But Aiden must not have noticed either, because he seemed totally caught off guard when he pinned my wrists to the side, smirking down at me in victory. I could still see his face drawing serious as he realized how close we were. The way his thighs were nestled between my own legs, lips mere inches away.

For a split second, I was certain he wanted me. His dark eyes couldn’t hide it. He even leaned toward the kiss, drawing me in.

And then he changed his mind and ran away.

Both of us had been drinking. Not anywhere close to drunk, but inebriated enough to lose some inhibition. I groaned and wished there was more wine in the bottle they had brought over. I almost opened another bottle—I had been gifted at least a dozen at my housewarming party—but it was a Sunday night and I didn’t need to go to work with a hangover tomorrow.

Instead, I did the emotional version of binge drinking: I texted my best friend.

Me: I’m going to tell you something, but you have to promise not to freak out about it.

Cat: I’ve never freaked out about anything in my life.

Me: That’s a lie.

Cat: I promise I will stay cool.

Me: That’s another lie.

Cat: Fine. I will TRY to stay cool, but will probably still lose my shit. Now are you going to tell me or what?

Me: Aiden and I almost kissed.

Cat: WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT-FUCK JAZZ

Cat: YOU ALMOST KISSED YOUR HOT NEIGHBOR?

Me: You said you would be cool!

Cat: I PROMISED TO TRY. I DID TRY, AND I FAILED. AND NOW I CAN ONLY SPEAK IN CAPS-LOCK BECAUSE THIS NEWS IS WAY TOO JUICY FOR A SUNDAY NIGHT!

Cat: OHMYGODWTFJAZZ

Me: Are you done?

Cat: No, but it’s time for you to tell me what happened. Where did this almost-kiss occur?

Me: My place about ten minutes ago.

Cat: Wait. What was Aiden doing at your place?

Me: He and Bash came over for dinner.

Cat: EXCUSE ME WHAT

Cat: Start over and tell me everything. I would call you, but I’m kind of on a date, so I can only text.

Me: If you’re on a date, maybe I should tell you later?

Cat: No way. I need these details RIGHT NOW. Besides, this girl is boring. We have nothing in common, so this date doesn’t matter.

Me: Why not just end the date early, then?

Cat: Because I’m still trying to take her home. She’s boring, but still super hot. You KNOW I’m gonna smash that gash.

After I stopped laughing, I spent a few minutes detailing everything that had happened: Aiden giving me the wrong phone number, confronting him when he was taking out the trash, and then inviting them over for dinner.

Cat: Too bad Bash went home, or he could have joined in and bashed YOUR gash

Me: I really hate it when you use the term gash

Cat: I know, that’s why I do it. But can you imagine? A threesome with those two neighbors?

Me: Sounds like the wrong number text I got the other day.

Cat: …

Cat: I forgot all about that! Did you text them back to mess with them?

Me: Focus! What should I do about the Aiden situation?

Cat: Easy. Things are weird now, and they’re only going to get weirder the longer you wait to talk about it. So you should text him right now.

Me: What am I supposed to say?

Cat: Tell him to come back over and jam your clam.

Me: That’s worse than gash smash. Besides, I told you I don’t want to get involved with my neighbor.

Cat: UGH, fine. Just be chill about it. Tell him it wasn’t a big deal. You know, pretend to be cooler than you actually are.

Me: Gee, thanks, Cat.

Cat: Any time!

Me: That was sarcasm.

I pulled up Aiden’s number—his real number that I had called while we were standing around the trash cans before dinner. How would a cool person react to this situation?

Someone cooler than me would shoot off a text without thinking about it, so that’s what I did. And just as I hit send, I received a text from Aiden.

Me: I had a lot of fun playing Bananagrams. Sorry if it was weird afterward. I don’t really want to get involved with someone who lives next door, you know what I mean? But if you ever want to play a word game, I’m your girl!

Aiden: Thanks for dinner, we had a great time. Sorry about what happened after the game. You’re really great, but since we live next to each other I would rather just be friends.

Aiden: LOL, jinx!

Me: That’s twice tonight we’ve jinxed each other.

Aiden: I’m still certain that I yelled BANANAS before you earlier.

Me: I can’t believe you would come into my house, eat my pasta, and then cheat at a friendly game.

Aiden: I don’t need to cheat, I won fair and square! I’m glad you texted, though. I didn’t want to go to bed wondering if things were weird between us.

Me: Same!

Aiden: Let’s make a deal.

Me: I’m listening.

Aiden: Let’s forget all about how the game ended. We had a wonderful night, shook hands, and then I went home.

Me: I like that plan. Although one thing I can’t forget is how we tied the final game.

Aiden: Fine. It was a tie. We both shouted BANANAS at the same time. Happy?

Me: I’ll be happy when I beat you next time.

Aiden: You’re on, Jasper 😉

Me: Wow, low blow.

I grinned at the exchange. Suddenly, all the awkwardness was gone. I switched back over to my texts with Cat.

Cat: Tell me how it goes

Cat: Did you text him yet?

Cat: Uh, hello? Don’t leave a girl hanging!

Me: I just sent you a screenshot of our conversation.

Cat: AWWWW. You two are adorable.

Cat: You should fuck him.

Me: Cat! No!

Cat: Let him mash your gash. Allow him to pound your mound. I bet he’s dying to smooch your cooch.

Me: How about you do all of that with your boring date?

Cat: Fingers crossed!

I went to bed feeling better about the situation. I was still embarrassed, but it was quickly fading. And work the next day helped take my mind off things.

When I got home from work, Bash waved to me from their front porch where he was watering plants. I waved back, happy that I had nice neighbors.

On Tuesday, I got lunch with Cat and showed her the text message from the wrong number. She whistled after reading it. “I forgot all about that. Too bad they’re just messing with you. Can you imagine? Having three boyfriends?”

“I cannot imagine it, no.”

“I can,” she replied with a wistful sigh. “Polyamory is all the rage right now. I would love to be the third for a straight couple. Sharing a bed with a man and a woman? That’s the bisexual dream.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah, but it’s the best kind of work. Being in bed with three guys who want to worship every inch of your body with their hands? And lips? And—”

“I get the picture,” I whispered, glancing around the cafe where we were eating. “But it was a wrong number, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I still think you should reply back,” she insisted. “If it’s fake, then you get to mess with them. But if it’s real…”

“Not interested,” I reiterated. “I’m supposed to be focusing on my new house. I don’t have time to date one guy, let alone three hypothetical ones.”

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“How’d your date on Sunday go?” I asked, hoping it would distract her.

It worked. Cat’s eyes lit up and she said, “This woman had the personality of a cardboard box, but a body like a pinup doll…”

The rest of the week was a blur. Work was busier than usual thanks to a few new hires who needed hand-holding. Then I spent the weekend making trips to Home Depot and fixing little things I didn’t like about my new house.

By Sunday night I was exhausted and only wanted to sit in front of the TV recharging my batteries. I liked keeping busy, but I hadn’t had any time to relax since the housewarming party a week ago.

I was debating between Thai and Indian takeout for dinner when my doorbell rang. I assumed it was a package being delivered; I had ordered a lot of stuff off Amazon for the new house.

But when I threw open the door, it was Bash standing there.