Chapter 5

Chapter Five

GABBY

“Did you like the pictures I sent?” I say into the phone as I rip open one of the few boxes I moved with.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Bennett says. “Do you feel safe there?”

“It’s Almond Bay, Bennett. What do you think?”

“I know,” he says on a sigh. “It’s one of the safest towns in the country. I swear only happiness is allowed to happen there.”

He’s not wrong.

When we lived close by, it felt like everyone was filled with joy when walking the streets. Sort of annoying when you’re clawing at life just to hang on. But now that everything is looking up, I don’t mind bouncing around with the rest of the jolly motherfuckers.

“Very true.”

“You can afford the place?” Bennett asks, concern in his voice.

“Yes. I worked out a deal with the landlord who’s friends with David, the board member who hired me. It’s part of the purchase deal.”

“What purchase deal?”

“The owner of the house is selling, and part of the stipulation is that I can maintain the lease for at least a year. After that, it’s up to the buyer to figure out what they want to do.”

“Wait, hold on . . . so you’ll be living with a stranger?”

I chuckle into the phone as I pull out my sheets from a box and set them on my bed. “No, it’s the apartment above the detached garage. I told you that.”

“Right,” he says. “Guess I missed that. Okay, so what if this buyer is a prick?”

“I have an ironclad rental agreement. They can’t be a prick. Plus, David seems to be on my side with this. I’m sure if something happened, he’d help me.”

“And is this David guy interested in you?” Bennett asks, making me laugh.

“No, he’s gay and has a partner of ten years. I think he just likes to be helpful. Also, he wants to change things up within the sports industry. Hence why I’m going to be the assistant coach.”

“Have you talked to Coach Rowley?”

Technically, a month or so ago, yes.

Although, there wasn’t a lot of talking.

More like a lot of thrusting.

And moaning.

And how much he liked sinking into my pussy.

And how I loved the way he would make me come.

And the sound of spanking filled the room, over and over again.

God, I can still feel it.

But talking about this job? Not so much.

“No, not yet. But I’m sure I’ll talk to him soon. School doesn’t start for a few more weeks. I moved because I wanted to get settled and establish myself before everything got too crazy. Plus, my lease was up, and this place was available, so it worked out. I’m picking up a few shifts at the old bar in the meantime. I should be making more than enough to help pay for some of your expenses.”

He sighs heavily. “Gabby, I told you?—”

“I know what you told me, Bennett, but you need help, and that’s okay. That’s what I’m here for. And when the season is over, you can stay with me. There’s enough room here?—”

“I’m not staying with you, Gabby. You need to live your life and stop putting it on hold for me.”

“I’m not putting my life on hold. I’m just helping. Your dreams are important.”

“And what about your dreams?” he asks. “How come I’m the one who gets to have dreams, and you don’t?”

“I have dreams,” I say defensively as I take a seat on my bed. “But yours are just bigger.”

“That’s bullshit. You matter just as much as I do. I hate seeing you scrounge up every last penny to help me. I want you to do something for you.”

“I am,” I reply. “This coaching position means a lot to me. It’s a step toward what I want to do. A step in the right direction, and if the little bit of money I get from doing it helps pay for some of your food, then that’s a plus.” He sighs again, so I say, “And stop sighing. I want to do this. It’s my responsibility to take care of you, so . . . just be nice and say thank you.”

He pauses for a moment. “Thank you, Gabby.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And you know, when I get called up and I sign a fat contract, the first thing I’m doing is taking care of you.”

“I don’t need you to. I just need you to enjoy every second of all the hard work you put into this.”

“All the hard work we put into this.”

I smile to myself. “Yes, we. And you know, if you happen to give your sister a shoutout during your first press conference, I won’t be mad about it.”

He laughs. “I think I can manage it.”

I stand from the bed and take my sheets to the linen closet next to the bathroom. “Okay, well, I’m going to finish unpacking. I can’t have things unorganized. Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Love you, Gab.”

“Love you, Benny Boo Boo.”

“Don’t call me that.”

I laugh, and we both hang up. I toss my cell onto the bed and look around my quaint apartment. It’s really nice. When I was told it was an apartment above a garage, I assumed it would be a studio apartment with a mini fridge and microwave as a kitchen. But it’s a one-bedroom with a separate living and sleeping space, an en suite bathroom, a full kitchen with appliances, and a dinette with a window that overlooks the park across the street.

It’s probably one of the nicest places I’ve ever stayed in, and it’s such a good price. I have no doubt that if it wasn’t for David hooking me up, I’d be living in a cardboard box down by the ocean.

Wanting to make this place my own, I take in the windows that need curtains, the couch that could use some throw pillows, and the coffee table that could stand a candle. So I grab my phone again and start a new note, writing down all the things I want to get for the apartment. I have very little saved up, but if I make a list, then I can probably get something once a week.

Once my list is complete, I take a break from unpacking and grab some food because my stomach is growling. I know if I order a pizza, I can make that last a few days for meals, so I grab my keys and head out of the apartment, making sure to lock up. As I make my way down the stairs on the side of the purple garage, two cars pull into the large driveway, causing me to halt.

The first person to step out is the real estate agent of the empty house. I can’t remember his name . . . Doug maybe? I met him the other day while reviewing the lease agreement. There is an offer on the house, which means . . . maybe this will be my new landlord.

I slowly make my way down the stairs, keeping my eyes on the large black truck in the driveway, only for my stomach to nearly fall out of my ass when I see a very attractive and very familiar man step out of the driver’s side.

Ryland Rowley?

No.

It can’t be.

Please don’t let it be him.

I squint, giving myself a better look, as if that would help me distort his image and convince myself that I’m not seeing Ryland Rowley, but nope . . . still him.

This can’t be real, right?

Maybe . . . maybe he’s, I don’t know, looking at the house for another reason. Maybe he wants to check out the architecture and copy it for a house he’s building.

Maybe he’s the seller going in for one more snapshot memory.

I know it’s wishful thinking, but I hold on to that thought as I watch him help a little girl out of the back of his truck.

Umm . . . who is that?

She has to be at least four, maybe five, and she has the cutest pigtails that swish side to side when she walks and . . . hold on . . . is that a horse sticking out of her shirt?

“It’s so big,” the little girl says.

“Do you like the purple?” Ryland asks in a voice he definitely didn’t use when we were together that one night.

“I love it!” The little girl jumps in excitement.

“I knew you would.” Ryland glances up at Doug. “Want to show her the inside?”

“Would love to,” Doug says as he gestures to the garage. “As stated before—oh, hello.”

Fuck.

Caught like a deer in the headlights, I awkwardly stand there, looking at them, unsure what to do or say.

“How convenient. Ryland, this is Gabby, the tenant of the space above the garage.”

Ryland takes the little girl’s hand in his, then glances in my direction. I can barely feel the air flowing through my chest as I watch his eyes meet mine. For a moment, I feel that he won’t recognize me, that maybe he forgot about that night, but then his eyebrows rise in surprise.

Recognition is written all over his face.

Yup, he knows.

I take the rest of the steps down and wave briefly. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Gabby, Ryland will be the property’s new owner, pending closure, but everything is looking very good so far.”

I can feel his eyes boring into me as questions race through his mind.

“Uncle Ry Ry, can I go stand under that tree? Chewy Charles wants to stare at the branches.”

Ryland takes in the large oak in the backyard, assesses the space, and then nods. “Don’t go past the tree.”

The little girl giddy-ups to the backyard, leaving me alone with Ryland and Doug.

“I’m going to go open the house,” Doug says. “I’ll let you two get to know each other.”

He takes off as well, leaving just the two of us.

I stick my hands in the pockets of my jean shorts as I try to figure out what to say. This is not what I expected. Not even in the slightest. I thought the first time I saw him again would be at school, and we’d just have a bit of a laugh about it all. I was hoping he’d find the whole situation funny, but seeing his reaction now, I can genuinely assess that he doesn’t find this amusing at all.

Not even a little.

“Um . . . hi,” I say.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice laced with an edge.

“I live here.” I gesture to the building behind me. “Nice place, actually. Glad I found it.” Stay calm. Maybe if I keep my cool, he won’t fly off the deep end.

“I thought you traveled for a living.”

Oh shit, right . . . I forgot I told him that.

Yikes.

What do I say now? I lied, and in fact, I will be teaching at your school, and oh wait, we aren’t just co-workers and living on the same property as each other, but also . . . we’re coaching together. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

From the crinkle between his eyes, I’m going to guess he wouldn’t think that’s fun at all. More like a living nightmare.

“Um, so yeah, got a new job, and it happened to land me here in Almond Bay. Imagine that.” Not a lie.

I toe the ground as we hear the little girl in the back galloping with her horse stuffie.

When he doesn’t say anything and just stares, I can feel the pressure mounting between us, so I continue, “You, uh . . . you bought the house?”

“We’re under contract,” he answers.

“Cool, yeah, great choice. Looks like your, uh . . . your . . .”

“Niece,” he says.

“Yeah, your niece seems like she likes it.”

His eyes leave mine for a moment as he focuses on her. And the crease in his brow lessens as he follows her. I glance over my shoulder and catch her rolling around in the grass, tossing her horse in the air.

When we both find each other’s gazes again, he says, “Seems that way.”

Not really knowing what to say, I add, “So I guess that means you’ll be my landlord. Exciting. I’ll have you know, I plan on paying my rent on time and don’t intend on causing a ruckus, so no need to worry about me throwing any wild parties.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Do you think it’s a good idea that you live in the apartment above the garage?”

What does he mean by that?

Do I think it’s a good idea?

Uh, yeah.

It’s a great idea.

The apartment is close to town, cheap, and updated. There is no way I could find anything better. This apartment is like Monica Geller’s apartment, a diamond in the rough, and I will rot in it until someone scoops me out and throws me to the curb.

“Not that it’s really any of your business,” I say, “but yeah, I think it’s a great idea that I live in the apartment above the garage. It’s a real snag. Not sure if you noticed, but the cost of living around here is pretty damaging to the bank account. So when I came upon this gem, it was a no-brainer. One of my best decisions, actually.”

“I mean,” he says in a dark tone, taking a step forward. “Do you think it’s smart living in the apartment after we fucked?”

Oh, okay . . . *ahem*.

So he’s just going to say it like that?

Got to appreciate a man for not beating around the bush.

“I don’t see why that’s an issue,” I say.

“You don’t?” He raises a brow.

I cross my arms at my chest. “Yeah, I don’t see what the problem is. So we did it. It was fine?—”

“Fine?” His eyebrows fly up so fast, I swear it blows his hair back. “You’re calling that night . . . fine?”

Well, it was more than fine. He rocked my freaking world.

Being with Ryland fulfilled so many sexual fantasies that I always wondered about.

He made me crave things I never thought I wanted.

The groaning.

The moaning.

The spanking.

The dirty talk.

It was freaking incredible and, hands down, the best sexual experience of my life.

But besides the applause I want to hand over to him for a job well done, I don’t like the way he’s treating this entire interaction. It’s almost like he’s alluding that he thinks I’m in the wrong and should move.

It’s kind of comical.

Because over my dead body will I leave that apartment. I have a contract, a lease, so there is no way I’ll back down from it.

“Yeah, it was fine,” I say.

His eyes darken, and he takes one step closer, bringing us almost toe-to-toe.

“It was more than fine, and you know it.”

I look him in the eyes, arms still crossed. “Seems like you’re getting pretty defensive.”

“I’m not getting defensive, but I’m also not going to stand here and let you lie to my face. You and I both know that night was more than fine.”

Gulp.

Yeah, it was unbelievable.

Sometimes I can still feel him between my legs.

I look down at my nails, pretending they’re more important than the irritated man in front of me. “Either way, how people felt that night doesn’t matter.”

“Sure as fuck does,” he says.

“How? Please tell me how it matters? We’re grown-ups. It’s not like because I see you all of a sudden, I’m going to have this uncontrollable urge to just . . . to just . . . fuck my landlord. I’m able to abide by boundaries.”

“And you think you can maintain those boundaries?”

This guy . . . he has no freaking clue about my level of self-control.

“Because I have a little girl I need to take care of, and I don’t need . . .” His jaw clenches as he leans forward, his face close to mine as he whispers, “I don’t need the fucking distraction.”

Something about the way his breath caught in his throat when he said that, like he’s truly worried, like this conversation actually means something to him, and it’s not some alpha dipshit way to get me to move out.

He truly means it . . . he doesn’t want to be distracted.

I pull away from him just enough to look him in the eyes. They’re such a beautiful green color. A mixture of seafoam and moss. Stunning despite the sadness I see in them.

“I won’t be a distraction,” I say as guilt starts to swarm me.

Does he know about the assistant coach job? He probably doesn’t given that he hasn’t mentioned it.

Is it something that I should mention?

Right now?

I hear his niece in the background, galloping away, and I realize it’s probably not the time. He’s already angry about this, so there’s no need to double down.

He takes a step back and nods. “Okay.” He glances over my shoulder again. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that night we spent together . . . to anyone.” That makes me frown with annoyance. When he says it like that, he makes it seem like he’s ashamed. “I was drunk . . . and well, let’s just keep it between us.”

Wow.

Okay.

I press my lips together and nod. “Sure, not a problem.” Feeling my irritation ramp up, I say, “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” he answers.

“Good.” I move past him, my shoulder brushing against his. “Looking forward to being neighbors.”