Chapter 10

“Ican’t believe we’re walking,” Oliver complains for the hundredth time.

We walk slowly back to the house, as I take in the seaside scenery which is impossible when you’re running. Walking also means I won’t die up the stupid hill.

Oliver loves to talk about his childhood—his face lights up every time he mentions his ma and pa back home. I enjoy listening—his upbringing the polar opposite to mine. He was raised on a farm, along with his two younger sisters, Rory and Matilda, then in his teenage years, his family decided to move to Sydney to give him a decent chance at playing professional soccer.

“So, I guess living on a farm, you probably love being around Bubbles?”

Oliver’s expression changes instantly. He blinks rapidly, shoulders tightening as we walk side by side. “Ah… I kinda had an incident with a rabbit when I was young.”

I wait for him to tell me, but seconds pass followed by nothing. It’s obvious I’m going to have to drag it out of him. The guy is as stubborn as a mule.

“And?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

I cross my heart, already smiling because I know he will make me laugh.

“You’re already laughing!”

“I’m not…” I try to keep a straight face, struggling to compose myself. Pursing my lips and biting them together, my smile disappears. “See?”

With his brow raised, eyeing me dubiously, he rubs his jaw, watching my expression with uncertainty. “Okay, so I was about eight when we had two rabbits, Elvis and Priscilla.”

“You had rabbits named Elvis and Priscilla?”

“My parents loved them, and you know that era. So, one day at school, this boy, Caleb, was teasing me, calling me a wuss because I had two sisters, so I must be a girl. The actual truth is I had a crush on this girl, Milly, and so did he.” He draws in a deep breath, then continues, “Anyway, he followed me home that day because he lived one property down from us and saw Elvis and Priscilla. He said that if I weren’t a girl, I needed to take off my red hat and wave it at them to see if they would move.”

“Oh no, then what happened?”

Oliver folds his arms across his chest, his gaze flicking upward. “They weren’t bulls, so I was confident nothing would happen, especially because my parents treated them like their own children so they were considered harmless. Nothing happened until I turned around and Elvis chased me only to bite me on the arse.”

I try my best to contain my laughter, covering my mouth and breathing into my hand to control myself.

“Pa had to call the doctor. I needed a Tetanus shot.”

“What happened to Elvis and Priscilla?”

“Priscilla was in her old age, so she passed not long after, and Elvis… well, he was sent to another farm.”

“Oh,” I mouth. “Poor Olly, and all over a crush.”

He stops midstride, and a gleam appears in his eye as he looks at me. “You called me Olly?”

I didn’t even realize I’d done so. Is that even a big deal? I’d heard Lana say it, and I guess, if I’m honest with myself, we had formed somewhat of a friendship warranting nickname calling. He often referred to me as Gabswhich I loathe.

“Yeah,” I stumble out. “I guess everyone calls you that.”

“You’re not everyone,” he murmurs, staring deeply.

I’m drawn to his eyes, almost emerald, reflecting with the aid of the sun. It’s more than just the color, there’s something deep about the way it makes me feel—pure, with a sense of hope and protection, and a feeling of completion.

I’m torn between whatever it is that’s holding me in this position, stilling my movements yet accelerating my heartbeat. How could something so simple, the weight of a man’s stare, especially a man who you despised only a week ago, evoke so much emotion?

Shaking my head, I break the hold and switch my focus on the direction in front of us. We’re only a block away from home when I notice the familiar beachside homes lined up the small hill.

“I’m drenched. I really need to head home and take a shower.”

The minute I say it, I cringe at my choice of words. Really? I’m such an idiot. Often, I wonder how I even adult. Oliver won’t let this one slide, that much I know. He has a response to everything, and his maturity level dwindles to gutter level whenever I open my big, fat mouth and say something stupid to provoke him.

Oliver smirks. “Do you need help? I’m an expert in the shower.”

“I bet you are.” I laugh, knocking his arm playfully. “I think I got it covered. I may not have many skills, but in showering, I could probably get an A-plus.”

“We need to stop talking about you showering… these shorts leave nothing to the imagination.”

I look down, and beneath his black shorts, I can see the outline of his manhood.

Turn away now. No good will come of this.

He looks hung.

Jesus, did you say that out loud?

Oh my God, I scan his face, but nothing changes, so it doesn’t appear I’ve said it out loud. My mouth curves upward into a smile, followed by an obnoxious laugh, unable to control the delirium inside me from the heat and exhaustion.

“Okay, time to calm down, buddy,” he whistles, releasing a breath. “I’ll race you back to the house. In fact, I’ll give you a five-minute head start.”

“And the winner gets what?”

“Whatever they want.”

“With you and your buddy. That’s dangerous. Be more specific.”

“Fine, I’ll take you out somewhere tonight.”

“More details…”

“A place that will relax you. Somewhere nice.”

I don’t even listen to another word, gaining a head start. My calculations show only ten minutes to home, and on the last stretch where I’ve got him beat. Then he comes out of nowhere, jogging past me with his head held high, even turning around so he’s running backward and waits for me at the gate without a single sweat and sporting a victorious grin.

A surge of adrenaline pushes me, my legs moving harder, counting down the steps until I reach the end. When I pull up at the front of my house, I almost collapse, falling into his body, unable to catch my breath. My panting doesn’t dwindle, and my rapid heartbeat restricts the airflow to my lungs which feel like they are going to explode any minute.

“Aw… c’mon, Gabs, now tell me that was fun.”

I can’t even talk.

The exertion brings on more breathlessness as if the air around me is devoid of oxygen. My ribs heave up and down, but nothing comes. Everything begins to spin. I don’t even care that he’s still holding onto me. I’m ready to die at this moment. The intensity is about to kill me.

“You are evil.”I choke, gulping for air.

“It’s why you love me.”

“Love is a strong word,” I tell him at the same moment he opens the gate for me. “Loathe would be more accurate.”

“Tonight, say seven? And bring a bikini.”

I’m confused. That is until his stupid ‘winner gets whatever they want’ comes racing back to me.

“Okay, stop!” I grab his arm, forcing him to slow down. “Where are we going?”

“A swimsuit, wetsuit, you’re going to get very wet,” he teases, licking his lips.

God, I already am. That run is like a big foreplay session. Ignoring the way his eyes feast on me, I try to play it cool. It is important he has no clue how he’s affecting me in any way whatsoever.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, tell Prince Charming you’re going to be out late.”

I can sense his jealousy masked behind the pretentious smile plastered on his face. I want to ask him if he is, in fact, jealous. Tease him because he’s an easy target when it comes to his ego. But perhaps I’m reading more into this than I should be. This isn’t a competition. Oliver is an acquaintance. Nicholas is my fiancé in the waiting.

As he turns away, walking back toward Lana and Sebastian’s house, I call his name, prompting him to turn around.

“What Prince Charming doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” I shout, unable to disguise the smile as I bite my bottom lip.

I would have walked away had it not been for the smirk—that little rise in the corner of his mouth that he was oblivious to, combined with the delicious dance in his eyes.

“Wait…” He runs back to me. “Where is your phone?”

I tell him to wait, open the door, and grab it off the nightstand.

Once back outside, he grabs my phone out of my hand without warning.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Shh,” he complains, distracted while typing something into my phone.

I really should put a password on my phone. In my life, I don’t think anyone has ever touched it except me.

Oliver passes it back, shooting me a wink before turning his back and walking away. “In case you ever need me,” he yells from the end of the fence.

My eyes wander to the screen to see his name—Bad Boy Neighbor.

Unable to hide my grin, I step back inside and head straight for the shower. Each time the soap glides against my skin, I ache in delight. No one has ever made me feel this way, and despite the back-and-forth banter, Oliver has never actually made a move. Everything I have conjured up has been in my head, and the guilt has begun to eat away at me again.

It’s nothing. Keep telling yourself that. This is typical male behavior. Read nothing more into it.

Dressed in my lazy white linen shorts and red tank, I slowly make my way to the kitchen. My plans today involve a visit to the local library. I’m in dire need of some books to pass the time. Something about borrowing a used book is so satisfying. But my mind and thoughts are elsewhere. I grab my phone and hit dial to Nicholas, desperate to clear my guilty conscience.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he greets, his silky-smooth voice just how I remember it.

“I wanted to see how you are?”

“Not the same without you, but work is busy.”

“How was New York?”

There’s a silence in his voice. “Good. Had some client dinners.”

“Nice…” I didn’t know what else to say. This is the extent of our conversations these days. It feels forced and like catching up with a friend more than a soon-to-possibly-be fiancé.

“Everything okay, Gabriella?”

“Just tired. I’ve been running, so completely exhausted.”

“You… running?” He laughs condescendingly. “What has California done to you? Next, you’ll become one of those plastic bitches spending Daddy’s money while carrying a dog in your purse.”

“Nothing.” I rein in my creeping resentment toward him. He knows very well that I’m not like that. Okay, so I had a credit card my father paid for, but it doesn’t mean I spend it out of necessity. “I enjoy running.”

“I personally dislike California. Any state that legalizes marijuana is not a place I would want to call home.”

“It’s not like that. I mean, have you been here? People are relaxed in Manhattan Beach. It’s not like back home all suit and tie, endless functions with stuck-up senators screwing their assistants while their wives pretend nothing is going on.”

“Quite judgmental and uncalled for, Gabriella,” he scolds. “What has gotten into you?”

“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Silence rears its awkward head into our conversation again, and despite my outburst, I know I’m trying to deflect the situation. I shouldn’t feel guilty meeting Oliver. Everything about us is platonic. So what if occasionally, like in the shower, my thoughts wander to an unnatural place? It’s just thoughts. I have not, nor will I, act on any feelings toward Oliver.

“Listen, I have to get to a meeting. I’ll call you tonight.”

“I’m busy,” I blurt out. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He doesn’t say another word or question where I’m going. He simply hangs up the phone. I slump onto the dining table, burying my face in my arms, unsure of what to do today since my trip to the library has suddenly lost all its appeal.

It’s hours until I have to meet Oliver, and the wait seems to linger on forever. I’m on edge. That call with Nicholas did nothing but put me in a bad mood, especially his comment about Daddy’s credit card and the derogatory ‘plastic bitches’ reference.

Nicholas has struck a nerve.

In college, I had a part-time job in the library. It paid next to nothing, but I enjoyed the freedom of my own money. As soon as I left, my father commanded I shadow my mother, just like my sisters had done before they got married.

I wanted desperately to work, find a job, and move out. But the more time I spent with my mother, the more I fell into her circle—the elite women’s crowd, never working a day in their lives because the men carried the wealth.

For the last two years, I devoted my time to foundations, raising money for charity, and for the first time in my life, moving here has opened up another side of independence. It’s the first time I have lived by myself without any hired help, but unfortunately, it is on Father’s money.

The vicious thought process sends me into a mild depression. I feel powerless in my life and don’t know where to begin or how to pull myself away from the only life I know. Sure, I’ve taken this step, but this life isn’t sustainable unless I completely break free from the Carmichael hold.

I grab my phone, needing an immediate distraction, and send Oliver a text.

Me

What’s the dress code for tonight?

There’s no response for what feels like forever. I find myself constantly checking, making sure I haven’t missed anything until I give up, frustrated and ready to storm over there to demand he understands the rules of an appropriate timeframe to respond to a text.

Bad Boy Neighbor

I said bikini. Okay, look, if you really want, you can go topless, but it’s been a while since I’ve done the whole nude-in-public thing.

I couldn’t help but laugh, knowing I was encouraging him. I quickly type a message back.

Me

You being nude in public is a conversation over tequila. Quit distracting from the question.

Bad Boy Neigbor

Wear anything, you’ll be perfect no matter what.

I don’t respond to his text, unable to wipe the smile off my face. I decide to hit up some retail therapy today, ignoring my previous thoughts or Nicholas’ presumptions. So what, it’s not like my father is short of money.

With my purse in hand, I grab my car keys and head off to the mall. If I have to wear a bikini, assuming the date involves water, I will do so in style.

Then it dawns on me I have used the word ‘date’ in my mind several times. Each time I think about it, guilt rears its ugly head. It becomes a vicious cycle, and one I have no idea how to break. But then I think about my conversation with Nicholas, how cold and distant he felt.

And our pact to have a break.

We both agreed one month apart.

I’m not breaking the rules.

I will have a little fun.

Fun never hurt anyone. Unless, of course, you’re starting to fall for the one man you can’t stop thinking about.

Your neighbor.