Not My Neighbor by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Thirteen

Krystal

Sliding off Blake’s lap feels like I’m losing a limb almost.

I’ve never been so intimate with anyone, ever. Never even kissed a boy, let alone a real man.

And certainly never… Well. As I explained to him, I’m the big V but he thinks it’s the sexiest thing, who knew?

All these years it’s been my main hang up, next to my weight of course. And here’s the hottest guy alive telling me it’s music to his ears.

My legs almost give as I stand, but the little workout between them has left me feeling something I’ve never felt before.

And with Blake still close by, the prospect of dealing with my dad or anything after what we just did doesn’t worry me in the slightest.

Blake motions he’s going next door to grab the coffee, but I want him right here.

I reach out for him, tugging at his shirt so he gets my message before he can leave as I answer the phone.

“Hiya, dad… Yeah… Oh did he now?” I ask. Waiting for a gap between each of his machine gun sentences so I can get a word in about this morning.

With the yard guy. Not the other thing.

It’s the reason he’s calling. Like I figured he probably would, but Blake looks surprised and then annoyed.

Like he’s pissed with the yard guy for saying anything. I can’t really blame him though, Blake did have him by the neck like a chicken about to have its head cut off.

“Mark Simmons just called me, Krystal. What the hell happened there this morning?” he asks, sounding overworked and like this is the last thing he feels he should be calling me about.

I know him well enough to hear it in his voice when he’s stressed, but this isn’t just work stress.

“Is he there?” My dad asks gruffly.

“Mark?” I ask, knowing that’s the wrong answer.

“No, Krystal. Not Mark. That idiot neighbor of ours who attacked him. Is he still there? Mark said he was in the house with you,” he adds in an accusing tone.

“Yeah, he’s here,” I tell him calmly. “He thought Mark was a prowler, dad. He was doing the right thing by looking out for me.

“Well,” My dad exclaims, scoffing a laugh that isn’t supposed to be funny. “I don’t think grabbing someone by the throat for doing their job is doing the right thing. He should’ve asked – or better still. Just minded his own business. He’s lucky Mark didn’t give him a dose of his own medicine,” he adds, which makes no sense.

Blake is at least a foot and a half taller than the yard guy, who looked like a rag doll when Blake had him in his grip.

I just roll my eyes and make a little face at Blake who seems to be as close to anxious as I’ve ever seen him for some reason.

Probably needs his morning coffee. Like me.

“Put him on,” Dad says “I wanna talk to him. Ya know he’s lucky Mark didn’t call the police…”

I hand the phone over to Blake while he goes on and on and using my hands after I slip my pajama bottoms back on, I mime that I’m going over to his place to get the coffee.

He and my dad can work things out, man to man.

Neighbor to neighbor.

Me, I just want my coffee.

I notice Blake’s voice change when he talks to my dad, which I think is odd but figure he might just be trying to keep his voice down.

I only catch one thing as I leave, which makes me smile to myself.

“…I dunno what to say, Jack. I guess I just really haven’t been feeling myself lately.”

Blake’s front door isn’t just unlocked, it’s wide open and I make sure to call out before going inside just in case somebody else is here. But it looks like he left it ajar when he rushed out to ‘rescue’ me this morning and it’s been blown all the way open by the morning breeze.

I make my way through to his kitchen deciding to fix us both a coffee there instead of bringing everything back over to our place.

Something tells me I might be spending quite a bit of time over here from now on.

I don’t imagine my dad’s place is much of a turn on for Blake. And the more I think about it, it’s not really someplace I think I’d like to have our first time.

Dad’s gonna take this hard though. I mean, listen to how he’s carrying on because Blake grabbed the lawn guy.

How’s he gonna be when he finds out we...

Well. We haven’t exactly done anything yet. Not like that anyhow. Not all the way.

I make our coffees, and not bothering to close my robe but remembering the front door, I’m pulling it shut as I juggle two mugs in one hand when I hear a car pull up.

With one hand on the door and the other full of hot coffee, I can’t very well pull my robe shut.

No big deal really, but I don’t want Blake attacking a stranger if he happens to see anyone looking at me in a certain way.

There’s the sound of a car door closing and I can see I’ve got nothing to worry about.

It’s a she, and the look I’m getting isn’t the kind to make a man jealous.

It’s the kind of looks I’m used to though.

The look a pretty girl gives whenever she walks by, thinking I can’t see her. But today, this one wants to talk and she doesn’t hide her disdain from her voice or her gaze as it scans me from head to toe.

“Is he in?” she asks. A whining, nasal voice coming from a skinny neck and not enough nose.

“Excuse me?” I ask. Almost politely, but if she’s referring to Blake, then it’s my turn to have my back up. Maybe do some strangling of my own.

If she had a neck to strangle.

The car she was in looks like daddy paid for it. Same with that nose and from what I can tell a very fake looking chest.

She looks to be a little older than me, maybe mid to late twenties. Way too early to have any work done, but really who am I to judge?

“Is he in? I said,” she remarks coldly again, giving an impatient sigh and checking her nails by curling her fingers towards herself.

Kind of Malibu Barbie meets Chucky. An evil looking blond if ever I’ve seen one.

She’s pretty though. Got that look that I’m told every guy goes for.

Skinny with an unnatural looking ass and a fake chest, the chemical formula for silicone practically showing through her skimpy top.

Big hair, loads of makeup, would probably melt if you set her down next to a heater or open fire during winter.

I know who she’s referring to, and I can also guess she’s here for some kind of audition or interview by the type of folder she’s carrying.

The kind I can tell in a second people use for photography portfolios.

If she’s going for a modeling job, she’s a shoo-in. She has that already airbrushed effect that would save any technical editor loads of time and all the while, help sell whatever it is they’re trying to peddle.

Witch.

“Uh, no. He’s not in,” I announce, not even trying to hide my satisfaction as I remind myself what the man himself just did to me.

And what else I know for a fact he wants to do to me.

Barbie tuts and sighs again. “I have an appointment,” she says as if it was on the national news and I’m more of a fool for missing it.

“You have an appointment,” I murmur. More statement than question.

If she does have an actual appointment, I don’t want Blake mad at me because I got rid of her or told her he’s not around.

“Wait here,” I groan, feeling like tipping both coffees over her stupid blond head rather than tell Blake he has a visitor that looks like her.

“I’m gonna be on the cover of Chord magazine,” she calls after me. “Where are you gonna be, getting me a coffee?” she says with plenty of venom in her voice, just in case I don’t catch her meaning.

With any luck, I’ll be bouncing on Blake’s cock by the end of the day, bitch. You can keep your stupid cover, I’ve got the man himself.

At least, I think I do.

The first real doubts, after all my original doubts about whether Blake even likes me creep back in.

The old green eyed monster rearing its ugly head, too.

I’m starting to see why Blake acted the way he did this morning, and I don’t want to be the female version of the same thing.

I can do better. I will do better.

Taking my time, I saunter back over to my place, sliding Blake’s mug across the kitchen counter to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading my mood before I even say a word.

“There’s some skanky hoe waiting over at your place. Looks like she charges by the hour but she claims to have an appointment,” I practically spit at him.

He looks totally lost, frowning and glancing at me sidelong.

Great stuff, Krystal.

Yeah. I can do way better than overreact with jealousy.

Look at you girl, all grown up now.

Blake moves over to the window, glancing out through the curtains.

He turns to me, making a face.

“She wants to see me?” he asks, making me wonder if I haven’t overreacted just a little after all.

“Said she has an appointment,” I remark, sipping way too hot coffee again, scolding my mouth while trying to sound uninterested.

“I’ll go sort this out. Just wait here I’ll be back in a flash,” he tells me.

Stopping to kiss me as he passes, I feel his hand taking mine in his as the other brushes my hair back over my ear.

“In a flash,” he repeats, pecking my cheek.

I shrug and pretend to not even notice, but move like lightning to the same window he looked out of, not wanting to miss a second of what that cow’s really up to.