Next-Door Nemesis(60)
“I like these shorts.” His hand creeps up my thigh, never losing contact as his fingertips toy with the frayed hem of my jean shorts.
“I like yours too. Decided to ditch the khakis, I see?” My breathing becomes labored and my gaze drops to the growing bulge in his pants, which I’ve been studiously avoiding for the last thirty minutes. It’s not easy, but I manage to look up before spectators can follow my line of sight.
“Yeah.” He smirks and my stupid heart stutters in my chest. “Someone kept giving me a hard time about my wardrobe. I figured I’d try something new.”
“Wow, what a bully.” It’s a little too breathy to give the effect I was going for, but what can you do? “You should tell them to go fuck themselves.”
“Something of the sort happened last night.” His fingers flex into my thigh. “I’m hoping I can relay the message again soon though. Maybe tonight even?”
I knew being around Nate wasn’t going to be easy after last night, but I vastly underestimated just how hard it would be. For a second I forget the neighborhood is watching and almost launch myself at him.
Thankfully for us, we’re riding with the biggest buzzkill in the neighborhood.
“Hey!” Mr. Wilson glares at us in the rearview mirror. “I’m doing my job, you two do yours. Stop the chitchat and throw the dang candy!”
“Sorry, Mr. Wilson.” I grab a handful of candy and send a generous amount soaring toward the crowd. “We’re on it.”
Nate, the hot brownnose, lets go of his grip on my leg and begins to throw candy and wave. “Apologies, sir.”
Time ceases to exist as we focus on engaging with the crowd. But by the time we approach my street, Bruce’s lyrics are blending together and my cheeks ache from smiling so much.
“You know,” Nate says, braving Wilson’s wrath when he reaches for a couple of suckers and carefully lobs them to two kids in matching baseball hats. “Who thought it was a good idea to have us throw hard candy with sticks to small children with questionable hand-eye coordination? This seems like a huge liability problem.”
“Big facts.” I don’t want to laugh, he’s so freaking corny, but I can’t help it. “These parents should have to sign a safety waiver.”
Of all the adverse consequences of sleeping with Nate, allowing him to think he’s funny could be the most detrimental of all.
When I signed up to run against him, I thought for sure that spending more time around him would remind me why I hated him so much. Instead, it’s just bringing back all the good memories we had together. Every minute we’re near each other, I find myself softening. Plus, I think because of the number of orgasms I had last night, the happy glow is lingering a little longer than I’m used to.
“Oh, and before I forget, I have something for you.” His smile doesn’t falter as he waves to the crowds lining the residential streets before reaching into his back pocket and putting his hand in mine. “You forgot these.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to hand me, but when I look down and see my underwear in my hand, I almost fall off the car trying to shove them into my back pocket.
“Nate!” I start to yell at him, before quickly remembering where I am.
I don’t mean a parade.
That’s obvious.
What I mean is on my block. Two houses down from mine, to be exact.
I look in front of me and see my parents both waving like goofy maniacs, but worse than that is the way Ruby is watching. She narrows her assessing blue stare a moment before total realization and understanding cross her face. Her jaw falls open and her eyes go wide.
“Collins Carter!” she shouts from the sidewalk. “Don’t you even think you can avoid this!”
Oh crap.
I point to the radio and pretend like I can’t hear her, but I know she doesn’t buy it. All that time spent in LA and I’m still a terrible actress.
I try to keep my smile so that my parents don’t notice anything, but as soon as they’re out of view, I drop the charade.
I want to punch him, but violence is wrong and people are watching, so I use my words instead.
“You do know that I can’t stand you, right?”
“You said that before, but if I’m remembering last night correctly, you changed your tune real fast.” He turns to me wearing that stupid smug smile and the worst thing happens.
The urge to slap it off him doesn’t come.
Nope.
I want to kiss it away.
Boy oh boy, good to know he’s fantastic at mindfucks too.
* * *
? ? ?
Even though everyone acts like time is a totally acceptable, logical thing and we use it to do just about everything in our everyday lives, it makes no sense to me.
I don’t understand how it moves so fast sometimes but drags on for eternities others or how the past, present, and future are connected but there’s no way to change it. Why is daylight saving time a thing? Who decided on the time zones? Why do we act like it’s a totally reasonable thing to subscribe to? Same with gluten and money, but I’ll save that for a different rant.
The path of the neighborhood parade is only a couple of miles and I couldn’t have been sitting next to Nate for more than an hour, so why does it feel like lifetimes have passed when Mr. Wilson parks his convertible back in the parking lot where we started and I’m finally allowed to climb out?