The curtains are closed, so there’s nothing for her to see, but I love that she tried.
Then I keep watching as she turns away from the tiny camera and hops back down the steps, the sunset causing her form to glow.
She’s so fucking thick. And soft. And beautiful. And the spark behind her eyes is so trusting and healthy and…
I let my fingers grip my length, squeezing until she’s crossed the dead-end street, skirted past her car—that she always leaves parked in the driveway—and closed her front door behind her.
I slouch back in my chair.
The only other time I’ve heard her say my name was the day we met.
I’d been out of town—out of the country. I was busy killing terrible men, so I hadn’t known my original across-the-street neighbor had died. She was a nice old lady who couldn’t hear for shit, couldn’t see past her front yard, and had an online poker habit that kept her away from the windows. She was perfect. But then she up and died, and her sister had a friend who had a daughter who was looking for a place, and by the time I got home, I had a new fucking neighbor.
Cassandra.
That was last summer. One year, one month, and two weeks ago.
I had just climbed out of my truck, and she had hurried across the street, already at my tailgate by the time I shut my door, and she thrust her hand out toward me.
Before I could stop myself, I placed my calloused palm in her smooth one while she said I’m Cassie, your new neighbor. And since my brain could come up with nothing better to say, I replied with Hans.
Just that. Just my name.
And then she repeated it back. Just as simple. Just once. Hans.
And I haven’t fucked anyone since.
If I don’t push her out of my brain soon, I’m going to lose it.
I reach out and tap the button to switch on more monitors.
Four across and two high, all eight screens flicker to life, their displays divided into four quadrants, giving me views of the whole cul-de-sac.
The house at the end is abandoned. And since some corporation bought the property for tax reasons, it’ll probably sit abandoned for the next twenty years. And if Cassandra hadn’t swooped in on 1304 Holly Court, I would’ve—I mean, that same corporation would have—bought that house too. And then they probably would’ve rented it out to Karmine, letting her use it as a sort of forward operating base for her self-built army.
But that didn’t happen, and I don’t have complete control of my little street because of Cassandra.
The curvy little vixen who just turned thirty, twelve days ago—making her nine years my junior and too young for me—and has been doing her best to kill me with food poisoning through her little deliveries.
Maybe it’s actually been working. Maybe she’s been microdosing me with some sort of secret government toxin. Maybe that’s why I can’t get her off my mind.
From the camera positioned on the top point of my garage, I watch her shadow move behind her thin living room drapes as she turns the lights off on her main floor.
Her form disappears, but then the windows on her upper floor light up, and I know she’s going to bed.
CHAPTER 2
Cassie
I tug back the paisley shower curtain and grab my facewash off the tub’s ledge, squeezing a careful amount into my palm.
The citrus scent is usually enough to lift my mood, but not tonight.
Sighing, I turn back to my sink, the running water finally turning warm, and lather my hands together.
“You gotta give up one of these days,” I reprimand myself before tipping my face down and scrubbing the bubbles into my skin.
Every couple of weeks, ever since I moved in, I deliver cookies or breads or desserts to the incredibly hot man across the street. Hans.
He’s… I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just different. And I shouldn’t even have an opinion on him because I’ve only seen him up close that one time. That first time I saw him.
And if his track record since is any indication, I only got that close because I caught him off guard. Because he hadn’t known I’d moved in.
I had begun to wonder if I even had an across-the-street neighbor, but the realtor promised the single-story home was occupied. And I asked no less than three times because I was a little creeped out by the empty house at the end of the street. So I kept an eye out for my supposed neighbor.
Even though the lots here—on the edge of this little town—are large, our driveways are perfectly lined up. It made me feel a weird sort of companionship with the neighbor I hadn’t met yet. Like we were in this together, with the other houses in our neighborhood out of sight around the corner, feeling a world away.