The Guy Next Door

Chapter 17

17

LEIF

“C ome on, Kyra.”

I sit on my bedroom floor, legs crossed, her cage in front of me.

I want some evidence that she can use her wings, but she just hops about, not making any effort that might lead me to think she’s healing. I offer words of encouragement, but Kyra goes about her usual business, ignoring me.

“Dammit,” I mutter, more than a little disappointed.

I pick my phone up and text Zane: Short King, Flight 6 is a bust. Think it might be time to take Kyra back to the clinic.

I return Kyra’s cage to the spot by my window and settle at my desk, browsing the vet’s online portal, when I get a reply from Zane: Sorry. :( Why don’t you come over tonight and I’ll try to make up for it? *devil emoji*

A rush of excitement moves through me.

Something changed in me two weeks ago—the night Zane fucked me.

That initial curiosity for his cock has turned into an obsession, a mission to get him in me as much as possible, something he clearly doesn’t mind making time for either. Even sitting here at my desk, my ass cheeks clench in anticipation. It doesn’t even have to be in moments like this, when there’s at least the promise that we might mess around again. Sometimes I’ll be sitting here when I feel that familiar clench, as if my ass is reminding me what we must get back to.

It’s not only the fucking, though.

I like Zane. He’s not the creeper I believed him to be when I first started seeing him around the neighborhood. Now that I’ve gotten to know about his past, I get what lies behind his intense gaze. So much pain, and I’m glad he felt he could share it with me.

When I finish booking an appointment through the clinic’s online portal, my phone screen switches to a FaceTime from Steven—a welcome surprise.

“Hey, stranger,” I answer, placing my phone in my mount.

“Leif, man. How’s it going? What’ve you been up to?”

His typical cheerfulness is charming as ever, but it stirs an awareness that I’m still not totally out of this funk. Back when we started talking at the beginning of our first semester, he was friendly and playful. We could go out to a party for a good time and laughs without me thinking twice about it. But now, that smile and the levity in his voice shine a light on the dissonance with where I’m at now compared to back then.

The fucking around with Zane has helped, but I have to accept that maybe I’ll never get back to that place before I crumbled under the weight of intense depression.

“It’s going okay,” I say. “I had another flight attempt with Kyra. It was a no-go.”

“I’m sorry, dude.”

“It’s okay. I was hoping it was an easy fix and she’d be back to normal, but looks like it’s gonna take longer than I figured.” As the words escape my lips, I can’t help but imagine that’s how Mom and Dad must feel about me and this time I’ve needed to recover from last spring.

“Anyway, I made an appointment with the clinic. I’ll keep you posted. How are you doing?”

“Trying to get some papers done, and I have a group project to manage before I start cramming for finals, but it’ll all be worth it when we get to winter break.”

“Are you gonna see your family?”

“Yeah. Sucks that I’m gonna be here through Thanksgiving, you know?”

Steven’s family lives in Michigan, and from things he’s mentioned, I can’t imagine he or his family have the money to have him fly out for both fall and winter break.

“Hey, my parents are flying back out to see my grandma for Thanksgiving…”

“I thought they hated her.”

“I’ll have to catch you up. She’s been sick, and my aunt is stressed out dealing with her enough as it is, so they offered to help her manage through the holiday. But I’m obviously not going. You’re only a thirty-minute drive from Wyachet, so what if you came over here and I threw something together?”

“Really?”

“Are you kidding me? Did you forget my MO?”

He laughs. “Well, if I come…I know it’s not a Thanksgiving dish, but I’m gonna want some of those chocolate-chip cookies.”

“Consider it done.”

He grins as he adjusts his cap. “In that case, I’m all for making an excuse to get some good food.”

“Let me check with Mom and Dad, but I can’t imagine they’ll say no. And once I get the go-ahead, if you run into anyone else who might want to come, I’ll be eager to make enough for an army.”

“I don’t know that I can get an army, but I have these friends Ilsa and Max who are from out of town, and I think they’re staying here. I’ll let you know.”

The thought of having a Thanksgiving dinner excites me in a way that reminds me of how I used to be. It’s not the same as it would have been, but it makes me feel more like my old self. A baby step in the right direction.

And I already know who else I want to invite—obviously, Zane.

After Steven and I finish catching up, I hang up, and I’m already texting my short king fuck buddy: If you want to see me before tonight, you free to hit up the gym later?

Since we started fucking around, we’ve jogged around the neighborhood and hit the gym together; he’s becoming my own personal escort. Even though I know it’s to make sure I’m safe, it’s nice getting to spend time with him outside of messing around at his place.

ZANE: I’ll be finished up around three, if that works for you. Or I can drop this and get back to it later.

ME: 3 works great.

ZANE: I’ll text you when I’m done.

ME: Or you could come over…

ZANE: You aren’t worried your parents will get the door?

ME: That’s kind of what I’m hoping for.

Maybe I’m pushing this too far. What if he’s not comfortable with that…or thinks I’ve become all clingy and needy? Is it weird that I want them to meet him?

ME: I just think they might as well meet you since we’re spending so much time together. They’re starting to get suspicious with me coming over every other night.

And if they meet him, that could probably change to every night.

Okay, that does sound pretty damn clingy.

That damn ellipsis pops up and then disappears. Fuck. Why do smartphones do this shit? To torture people?

I’m nervous, but then a message comes through.

ZANE: Sure. I’d love to meet your parents. :)

That shouldn’t make me grin so big, but I can’t help myself. I like the idea of him meeting my family instead of this only being my dirty little secret.

A bit before three, I start listening out for the doorbell as I change into my gym clothes. I’m tying my sneakers when I hear Mom’s voice—sounds like it’s coming from the foyer, followed by Dad’s.

Is he here already?

I finish tying my shoes, then head out. When I reach the top of the stairs, Zane’s inside, chatting with Mom and Dad near the front door.

“And how are you liking the area?” Mom asks.

Zane’s got his hands tucked in his hoodie pockets, not really looking her in the eyes. He looks all tense and awkward.

“Yeah. It’s good,” he says.

Fuck, how does he manage to look so fucking sexy just by being uneasy?

“What made you decide to move here?” Dad asks. “When I was your age, I wanted to be near the city to go out and do things with my friends.”

Zane’s eyes widen.

“Oh, hey, hey!” I call out, hoping to spare him that particular question.

Zane’s gaze shifts to me, and the tension in his expression eases up as his lips curl into a smirk—the sort that has my chest swirling with sensation, my dick plumping up, my ass clenching.

How can he get me all worked up with only a look?

“We were getting to know your new friend,” Mom says.

“Nice that you’re both around the same age,” Dad adds. “The gym’s a great way to get some exercise.”

“He used to go to the gym all the time,” Mom says, “but he hasn’t been getting as much exercise as he should recently. But he’s got his father’s genes, and all it seems to do is plump out those muscles of his.”

“For now,” Dad teases.

My cheeks warm. “Okay, guys. Enough of this. We have to go.”

“He thinks we’re going to embarrass him,” Mom says before Dad chimes in, “But we can do that over dinner sometime soon, right? Maybe get the chef here to whip up something for us?”

“We’re going out of town this weekend through next weekend,” Mom says, “but maybe when we get back?”

“Oh, about that,” I say, figuring this is as good an opportunity as any, “I was wondering if it’d be all right if I had some people over for Thanksgiving.”

Mom’s and Dad’s eyes widen, their mouths slightly open. They aren’t even looking at each other, so I assume this is one of those things they share because they’ve been together so fucking long.

Mom looks to Dad before blurting out, “Of course. That would be great.”

I know they mean well, but the fact that they’re making a big deal out of this is a reminder of how fucked up I’ve been. In the past, they wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but now it’s like they’re about to call the Gwinnett Daily Post to see if this can make the front page.

“Yes. That’s totally fine with us,” Dad adds. “Anyway, we’ll get out of your hair, but, Zane, again, we’ll make sure to reach out about dinner when we get back.”

Zane’s expression relaxes, and a warm smile slips across his face. “I’d really like that, Mrs. and Mr. Anderson.”

“Oh, please. Ginny and Paul.”

Dad offers him a handshake, and Mom tackles him with a hug. After we all say our goodbyes, Zane and I get in my car.

“Your parents are very friendly,” he says as I pull out of the driveway.

“Yeah, they’re good people, but that seemed like a lot for you.”

“You haven’t seen me interact with anyone other than you. I’m not great around people.”

“No shit,” I tease. “You forget how we met?”

He cringes. “Yeah, but really, my therapist says it might have to do with my childhood. When Mike and I first went into foster care, at the new school, I was kind of out of it, and kids were nasty. Not that they knew what was going on, but they could tell I was off, and I guess like kids sometimes will do, when someone’s different, they came for me. And that only made me even more closed off, and I learned how to skate under the radar.”

I imagine a younger version of Zane, after all that horrifying shit he endured, with kids teasing him, adding to his misery.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Wow. Made that a downer real fast. That might be some kind of record.”

“It’s fine. It’s your life. I hope you don’t expect me to be happy-go-lucky all the time. And really, I like that you’re just you. Like when I saw you talking to Mom and Dad, you weren’t pretending to be charming or trying to be someone you’re not. You were the sexy, awkward-as-fuck guy I met a few weeks ago.”

“I think you’ll say anything to get more of this dick,” he says in that familiar, playful way he has.

“Would you blame me?”

He laughs. “No, I definitely would not. But back to the whole not-pretending shit, sometimes in moments like those with your parents, I wish I could summon some super-cool, chill guy who could effortlessly navigate his way through that kind of thing, you know?”

“Eh, well, having been that guy for plenty of my life, I can tell you it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. There’s a lot of fake smiles and small talk that goes nowhere.”

“Yeah, neither sounds like my thing.”

I chuckle. “I agree. Those don’t sound like the Zane I’m getting to know at all.”

But now that we’re talking about this, it brings to mind something else I wanted to ask him about.

“What is it?” he asks.

Can this guy really read me that well?

Regardless, there’s no point keeping it from him. “That Thanksgiving dinner, I invited a friend from college, said if he knew of anyone else who needed a dinner to go to, he should invite them. Obviously, I want to invite you, but if that would make you uncomfortable…”

“Leif, of course I’m coming. I can get over my fucking bullshit to spend more time with you.”

I do a double take.

“Oh, you like knowing that, don’t you?” he asks, and my cheeks warm. “Why is that making you fucking blush? You know I enjoy spending time with you, right?”

“You haven’t said it like that before. I know we do a lot of bedroom stuff, but…”

“Bedroom stuff?” He chuckles. “I don’t know that you’re old enough to mess around with me if that’s what you’re calling me fucking you.”

I laugh. “That’s obviously what I meant. I don’t even know why I said it like that.”

“I assumed you noticed I enjoyed spending time with you beyond fucking. Don’t get me wrong, I like that too, but if there’s any question in your pretty head about what we’re doing, let me be very direct and reiterate that I do. It would make you uncomfortable knowing how much I enjoy spending time with you.”

I sneak a glance, and he wears that familiar determined, deadly serious expression.

God, why did he have to go and say the Zane-iest thing he could say?

It only makes him that much more adorable.

And makes me realize I’m really crushing on this guy.

Me, Leif Anderson, crushing on a dude. That’s not something I ever imagined.

“I enjoy spending time with you too,” I confess.

“Good. Now we should stop talking about this unless you want everyone eyeing me in my gym shorts.”

I reach over to the passenger seat and place my hand on his crotch. “It’s like you got a steel rod in there,” I say, gripping it firmly.

“Okay, that’s definitely not gonna make it better.”

After enjoying a good laugh, I give his cock space, and fortunately, he’s only got a semi when we head into LA Fitness. While I pump weights downstairs, Zane hops on one of the treadmills upstairs, by a rail that gives him a view of the first floor. I’m sure he knows he doesn’t need to keep an eye on me while I’m working out. No one’s gonna abduct me in broad daylight in the middle of a busy gym, but maybe he can’t kick the habit so easily. Or maybe he just likes watching me. Either way, I don’t have any complaints.

When I finish my workout, Zane hops off his machine, and we hit the showers, selecting neighboring stalls like we have the past few times we’ve done this. Not for the first time since we started coming to the gym together, with the stone privacy walls, I think about how easy it’d be for one of us to slip into the other’s stall and mess around. But it’s a busy day, and there are plenty of guys coming and going. That would be way too bold. But it sure makes me hard.

It seems like I just noticed my erection when the curtain pulls back and a nude Zane comes rushing in, pulling it closed behind him before attacking my mouth and forcing me back against the back wall.

Fuck, his mouth tastes good, and his hand quickly finds my cock, gripping and giving it a few strokes.

But I pull away. “Zane, what the fuck?” I keep my voice low enough that the guys I can hear chatting outside won’t hear us.

“I tried to be fucking good, but you make that impossible,” he says, still stroking me, displaying a condom and bottle of lube in his free hand.

“Did you plan this?”

“No, but I’m not an idiot; I knew I needed to be prepared if I was gonna be around you while you’re all sweaty and huffing and puffing for an hour, and now all these muscles are pumped up. I’m only fucking human, Leif.”

The way he ogles my body almost makes me forget that there are people close by who could discover us in here, but only almost forget.

“You think you can take my cock without making too much noise?” he whispers, his breath hitting my lips.

That sounds like a challenge.

I should say fuck no. I should push his horny ass away. I should tell him to get back to his fucking stall and leave me the hell alone.

Instead, I say, “Only one way to find out.”