The Guy Next Door

Chapter 8

8

ZANE

S ilence stretches between us.

It was such an epic conversation—from him confessing that shit about his past and then me confessing my shit.

And then he said he was intrigued by me…

What does that mean?

The looks he gives me, the fact that he hasn’t freaked out… Some straight guys enjoy attention, even if it’s from a queer guy. I had a friend—Tau—who had one straight guy torture him for years. They did everything together, and the guy lapped up his attention, but he always had a girlfriend, never made a move. Just loved basking in my friend’s interest.

I don’t have too much time to consider it because our pizza’s ready. Leif pulls it out of the oven, and we let it cool a bit before enjoying slices.

“God, that’s good,” I say, reveling in the mix of the cheeses, spinach, and chicken. With my eyes closed, I fully embrace it, since these meals are a treat. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Watching you enjoy it makes it worth it.” As he says that, I notice him watching me eat before taking another healthy bite.

I gaze into his eyes, maybe longer than I should. But that’s become something of a bad habit.

There’s a question in my mind, a place I don’t want to let myself go to, but a vibrating sound catches my attention before Leif pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ah, that’s my parents,” he says around a mouthful. “Probably calling to update me about Linda. Think I’m gonna head back.”

He sounds so cool, so unfazed by everything we’ve just discussed as he shoves the rest of his pizza in his mouth and hops up, starting for the door.

“Wait,” I say, and he stops and spins toward me. “You’re not gonna take some with you? I can’t eat all this.”

“I insist. You said you don’t cook much, and I have leftovers from lunch yesterday.”

But I don’t want him to stay just for pizza. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Leif beyond what I’ve learned from stalking him.

“Oh, before I go.” He approaches and hands me his phone.

Maybe since I’m in stalker mode, my first thought is, does he want me to put a tracker in it?

“Your number,” he says. “Put it in.”

I chuckle. “Oh. Right. That’s what normal people do.”

I input my number, then hand him his phone.

“See you later, creeper,” he says with a wink.

It’s disappointing that he’s going already. It’s nice to have some company, or maybe I like that he’s the company. I assume the latter. But he heads on his way, and before I know it, he’s gone.

*

Sitting at my desk, I take another bite of the chicken Alfredo pizza. I close my eyes and savor it.

Fuck, that guy knows how to make a pizza.

I’m appreciative he insisted I keep the leftovers since, outside of what he’s brought me, the homemade meals I typically encounter come in the form of frozen dinners, sandwiches, and cans.

I just wish he’d been able to stay longer. Beyond the attraction I can’t deny, it was nice to talk to someone who knows what it’s like to lose control of his mind. Who knows things some people in this world won’t ever understand…at least, I hope most people don’t have to live like this.

I check the time on my computer monitor, and it’s a little past eleven. After Leif left, I got in a good bit of work, since I have to pay the bills. And if what I’ve learned in my stalking is any indication, Leif should be finishing up his shower right about now.

I set my slice on a plate on my desk, watching the surveillance footage on my monitor as a shadow moves around Leif’s bedroom, behind the blinds. Having seen him in only a towel, it’s easy for me to imagine what he looks like behind those blinds at this time of night. It’s the sort of thing that makes my dick perk right up.

I want to slap at my crotch. I shouldn’t enjoy this; although, maybe this is the way my mind tries to make the best of a shitty situation.

Or maybe I’m just creeping on him.

“Hey, Dr. Byce. I wanted to check in with you about my doses. If you could give me a call when you get a chance, that’d be great.”

Shortly after our discussion, I called my psych. I’ve had a few discussions with her since I became Leif Anderson’s neighbor. I’m not so oblivious that I don’t realize all this could be a cause for concern. Despite taking my meds, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d ever experienced symptoms and needed to have my doses adjusted. Of course, I won’t tell her how I’m spending my days. Just mention some feelings of paranoia. Make it sound less concerning than maybe I should; although shouldn’t you be honest about this shit with your goddamn psychiatrist? But if I told her the truth, I’d definitely wind up in a psych unit. Not that that would be so terrible if I needed help, but if that happens, I won’t be able to protect Leif.

It’s a struggle because I do believe I’m right, but I believed I was right about Isaac Tolle, the professor from Mike’s school. This is different, though, since I actually have evidence and rational reasons for thinking Leif’s in danger. But what if it’s all a lie I’m telling myself? Part of this delusion I’m suffering from?

I didn’t tell Leif, but when he said he wasn’t sure what to think…well, I’m not sure either.

I take another bite, practically sucking too much of my slice into my mouth.

As I set it back on the plate, the blinds at Leif’s window pull up.

What is he doing? Doesn’t he know someone other than me could be watching right now?

But the blinds steadily reveal sweatpants, then his nude torso. He stands at the window, looking out, searching. Has he heard something outside?

I check the other cameras, wondering if there’s something I’m missing, when I see him texting on his phone. As a text comes through on mine, I snatch it quickly to check.

LEIF: You watching? ;)

I gasp with relief. As I look up from my phone, he’s at the window, offering a gentle wave.

Instinctively, I raise my hand at my monitor, then feel like a fucking idiot.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been determining in this conversation? That we’re both a little fucked up?”

I smile at the thought. If I’m messed up for doing this, then he definitely is for knowing all that he does and letting me continue.

“You intrigue me, Zane.”

I’m intrigued too. For obvious reasons. I don’t imagine Leif’s a stranger to some queer guy lusting over him. I tell myself it’s his abs and his beautiful face, but having chatted with him, I must admit it’s more than that now.

He’s charming and sensitive. God, what it did to me when he told me that shit about what he went through in college; the bravery it must’ve taken for him to share something so deeply personal. Not enough people understand what it’s like when a mind becomes its own enemy. Maybe that’s why he felt safe sharing it with me. It’s the only reason I was willing to give him my secrets. But that conversation has bound me to him even more than I already was. Given me a new determination to protect him.

ME: Of course.

ME: You already know I find you attractive. This feels like a cruel tease.

I regret the moment I hit Send, but damned if it isn’t true.

LEIF: I thought you said VERY attractive. Have I already been demoted?

My cheeks are hot as I study his image on my monitor, trying to read his expression.

ME: No, you haven’t been demoted.

God, why am I fucking answering like this? Even more importantly, why is he texting me like this? But I have bigger concerns.

ME: But someone else could be watching.

ME: Close the blinds.

A selfish part of me doesn’t want him to, while the protective part wants to head over and close them myself. But if I were in his bedroom right now, with him in only sweats, fuck, he’d really think I was a creeper.

My phone buzzes again.

LEIF: Just thought you might enjoy the view. ;)

I lick my lips, like the creeper I fucking am.

LEIF: Night. x

ME: Good night, Leif.

As he closes his blinds, I’m relieved no one else can watch him but devastated that I can’t either.

Too quickly, my memory of that body fades, and my creeper instincts kick in.

The surveillance images are pulled up on my right-hand monitor, so I open another screen on the left. I scroll back through the footage that’s downloaded to my hard drive and grab the little-over-a-minute of footage of him at the window, waving. I upload the footage into another app and play it on a loop.

Biting my bottom lip, my hand gravitates under my boxers, stroking.

My eyes are fixed on his expression. Why did he fucking tease me like this, knowing I’m gay, knowing I’m lusting after him?

Maybe he’s like Tau’s friend, a straight guy wanting to soak up all my attention because he doesn’t get it in other parts of his life.

To think of how much hell I used to give Tau, but now I fucking get it.

Fuck…those abs.

That face.

Those eyes. Those damn eyes.

Isn’t it weird enough that he knows I’m watching him, but now he must know I’m about to cream to his image?

Memories of that night when I pulled him into the closet flash through my head. We were so fucking close. At the time, I was concerned with keeping him safe, but now I just remember his ass being pushed up against me, my hand against his abs to keep him tight against my body.

That’s probably the only time I’ll ever get to touch his magnificent body.

As I’m jerking off, I’m staring at his face, imagining what he’d look like with my cock in him. Imagining him writhing beneath me, begging for more, those lips wide as he calls out my name.

Guilt flashes through me.

Enjoy the view.

He wants me to enjoy this—or am I telling myself that to get myself to the end?

My palm’s too dry, and I can tell I’m rubbing myself raw, but it doesn’t matter because a few moments later my cock pulses in my grip as I shoot into my boxers, my body lurching forward in my seat, still looking at Leif’s face.

I take my wet hand out of my boxers, feeling the warmth of me against my crotch as I catch my breath.

“Why did you do that to me?” I whisper to this image of him.

And now I really feel like a fucking creeper.