Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2) (12 page)

BOOK: Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2)
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With slow, calculated movements,
I pulled out and pressed back in, again and again. I wanted to stay inside her
forever. This was where I belonged. I savoured each second, like I would a
freshly blown bubble that could pop and disappear in a flash. Soft moans and
tiny sounds broke free from her lips. Perfectly manicured nails raked down my
shoulder blades and dug into my clenched ass cheeks. Pain heightened the
pleasure, and I fought to hold back as the pressure built. Then just when I
thought I couldn’t take any more, Cora’s back arched, and she tightened around
me. She was close. I could feel it. And so was I. I had been since we’d first
kissed in the kitchen, and the wait was agony. When the first shudder rippled
through her, I finally let go and came harder than I ever had before.

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

I woke up with a huge grin firmly
fixed on my face. Cora was facing me, watching me intently. Over her shoulder,
the clock had already crept past ten. My smile widened, as I remembered the
previous night. Somewhere between the third and fourth time, we’d made it into
the bedroom. “Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?” I asked.

“Very,” she said.

“Me too.” I noticed her face held
a tinge of sadness. “So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. I’m not
totally blind.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, and
then sighed. “Last night was really special.”

I got the feeling she was about
to come out with one of her ‘buts’. “It was mind blowing.”

“Yes. But you do know it can
never be anything more than that. Just one incredible night.”

And there was the ‘but’. “What
are you saying?”

“It was a mistake.”

I ran my fingers down her arm,
and I let my hand rest on her waist. “No. No, it wasn’t. It was a good thing.”

“We got caught up in the moment. It
was sexual chemistry. That’s all.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit
of chemistry.”

“No. No, there isn’t. But it never
lasts.”

“And you’re basing this on what …
your vast experience?”

“Clearly not. But Diane—”

“Is not you. Are you telling me,
in the cold light of day, you don’t want me anymore?”

Her gaze fell, as if she couldn’t
bear to look me in the eye. “No. No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

Thank fuck for that
. “Pleased
to hear it. What then?”

“When I’m with you, I forget I’m
not twenty anymore.”

Were we really back to this? “When
I’m with you, it doesn’t occur to me that you’re not.”

“But it’s a fact. You can’t
ignore it. I’m thirty-nine; you’re only twenty-two.”

“Twenty-three in September.”

“Upping one number doesn’t change
the others.” She twisted her wedding ring, and I had the sudden desire to rip
it from her finger and throw it across the room.

“Quit with the old lady bullshit,
will you?”

I half expected her to chastise
me for my outburst, but instead, she glanced up through her lashes with an
expression so pained it knotted my heart. “It’s not just about age. There’s a
world of difference between us. We can’t base a relationship on chemistry
alone.”

“It’s a start. What’s the harm in
giving it a shot?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she
said.

“Why?”

“I’m scared.”

Again? If she thought being with
me was scary, she must have led a very sheltered life. “Of what?”

“Of what people will say, of getting
too attached and you leaving me, of being hurt again.”

“Fuck what anyone else thinks.
This is about us.” I hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at
me. “Look, no one can ever predict whether a relationship will work out or not.
It’s not an exact science, but I’m willing to take the risk. The question is, are
you?” I tried to gauge her reaction, but her face remained rigid, so I pressed
harder. “I’m not going to hurt you. But neither will I allow you to give up on
us before we’ve even started. Not when I feel this way, and I think you feel it
too. You do don’t you?”

Her head bobbed, almost
indistinguishably. “You make me happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

“And I wish that everyone could
experience a mere scrap of what I feel for you. I’ve never felt this way about
a woman before. I’m putting myself out there too, but we have to give this a
shot. We deserve it. You deserve it. It’s time to stop taking care of everyone
else and let me take care of you.” It was the first time I’d given such a pussy
speech, but I felt as if I was hanging on to our time by my fingernails, and I
needed to get a firm grip.

Her chest depressed as she forced
out a breath. “How can you take care of me? You don’t even have a job.”

“I’m not talking about finances,
woman. I’m talking about your needs. My needs. I need to be with you, make you
feel good. And you have to admit we’re good together.”

“Yes, but we have nothing in
common.”

“Of course, we do. You like to
keep fit. So do I. You like baking. I like eating. We’re both alone. The rest
we’ll work out. All I’m asking is that you give it a try.”

“I want to try. It’s just …”

“You have trust issues. I get
that. But you can trust me. I promise. I’ll never lie to you, and I’ll never
cheat on you, like your Ex did, but you have to let me be in your life. Okay?” She
had to agree. No way could I go back to mowing her lawns and pretend our time
together never happened. I held my breath, my whole body taught with fear, as I
waited for her answer.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

The tension in my stomach finally
eased and allowed me to breathe again. “That settles it then. Now come here.” I
reached behind her neck and pulled her lips to mine. My fear of losing her had
to be greater than hers was of losing me. The relief of her answer brought
tears to my eyes, and I poured all my emotion into our kiss, afraid to let her
go in case she changed her mind. After a few seconds, I managed to regain my
self-control and broke contact. “Thank you.”

She smiled. The kind of smile I’d
only ever dreamt about. Hell, if this was what love felt like, sign me up.

“So, how are you feeling?” I
asked.

The corners of her lips curled mischievously.
“Sore.”

“Yeah?” Not too sore, I hoped.
Despite repeated performances throughout the evening, I’d woken up hard, and
the way she was looking at me did nothing to lesson it. Last night had been a
revelation. I’d expected it would take time for Cora to be at ease with me, but
I’d been surprised at her eagerness. I was ready for another round, if she was
game.

“Yes. It’s been a long time since
I’ve had carpet burns on my knees,” Cora said.

“Carpet burns? Really? Let’s see
them, then.” I scooted under the sheet and kissed my way down the side of her
ribcage to her legs. She squirmed and giggled. I hadn’t quite reached her knees
when I heard the bedroom door open.

Were we in for another rant from
Nessie? Because I could do without one of her angry outbursts cramping my
style, yet again.

“Mum?” said a voice that sounded
like Nessie’s, but wasn’t. I froze. “I came round to collect some more of my
stuff, and then I heard noises. I …” My fringe tickled my nose and I sneezed.
“Is that … Dad, under there?”

Cora peeled the sheet from my
head, and I turned to the voice. It belonged to another mini Cora. “Hi,” I
said.

“Oh. Um, hello,” the girl
replied. “I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t know you had company.”

Although her tone held a trace of
shock, it made a welcome change from her sister’s usual loathing. I did a quick
top to toe of Cora’s eldest, as I shuffled to a sitting position. Her blonde
hair fell in waves over a huge rack, squeezed into a tight yellow top, and skintight
jeans covered the longest legs I’d ever seen. I found myself wondering if Cora
had looked as hot, twenty years ago, then kicked myself. She was still hot, and
she was mine. My eyes were under a strict no wandering order now, especially
where her daughters were concerned.

“Amy, this is Johnny. My, um …”
Cora began.

Yes, what was I? Gardener?
Handyman? Neither sounded right in the current situation. “Boyfriend.” I
interrupted. Amy’s eyebrows rose and she shot a look at her mother. I turned to
look at Cora too. “Right?”

Cora’s eyes flicked nervously
between us. She opened her mouth, and I could tell her brain was struggling to
find a plausible alternative. Finally, she spoke, “Yes.”

“Okay. Um. I’m not sure quite how
to respond to that. You never told me you were seeing anyone, Mum.”

“It’s been a recent development,”
Cora said.

“I see. Hmm. Well … congratulations.”

I took hold of Cora’s hand and
squeezed it, smiling. “Thank you. We’re very happy.”

Amy’s lips twitched into a smile.
“Mum deserves to be happy.” Her gaze roamed over my chest and back to my eyes. Was
she checking me out? “Are you older than you look?” she asked. “Yeah, I’m
guessing you must be,” she said, answering her own question. “Well, I’ll just
get my things, and then I’ll be out of your hair. Nice to meet you, Johnny.
Mum, I’ll call you later.”

When the door closed, I turned to
Cora. “That went well, I think.”

She was staring at me with raised
brows. “Boyfriend?”

“You like that?”

“It sounded strange.”

“What would you prefer? Partner?”
I shook my head. “Too formal. Bit on the side? Implies you already have
somebody. Shag buddy? Well, as much as that idea appeals, we’ve already
established it’s more than that. Personally, I like boyfriend, and as far as
I’m concerned, we’re a couple now. So, boyfriend it is. What shall we do today?”
I asked, closing the space between us and kissing her shoulder.

“It’s Friday. On Fridays, I have
yoga class in the morning, go shopping in the afternoon, and host my book club
in the evening. In fact, my class starts at eleven, so I really need to get
ready,” she said, opening the space back up.

“Are you trying to get rid of
me?”

“Yes.”

I shuffled closer and ran my
tongue along the edge of her ear. “Why?”

Using more force, she pushed me
away and swung her legs off the mattress. “You're far too tempting.”

“Okay, I can take a hint. I was
thinking of going into town anyway.”

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Once the new haircut had been
ticked off my mental list, I paid a visit to the job centre, hoping to find
someone in need of an odd job man. I was out of luck. Row upon row of white
cards pinned to billboards offered a variety of menial positions: shop work,
cleaning, labouring stuff, but no demand for gardeners. The school caretaker
job half appealed—at least the pay did—but scraping chewing gum from desks and
fixing toilets in graffiti covered bathrooms wasn’t my scene, and I wasn’t yet
desperate enough to flip burgers or collect glasses. I scanned the depressing,
soulless room of blank faces holding no hope and couldn’t get out of there soon
enough.

Feeling frustrated and defeated,
I decided to hold on to my bus fare and walk the short distance home. At this
rate, it would take years to get enough cash together for the land. My journey took
me past the police station, and I was so preoccupied with wondering how the
fuck I was going to boost my bank balance, that my eyes were fixed on the
pavement instead of the way ahead, and I had to stop abruptly when a captive
was hauled from the back of a Black Maria and across my path. As I watched the
men disappear through the door, a poster in the window caught my attention.

It was a notice asking for
volunteers to help tidy up the local cemetery. They were after free labour, but
hey, I didn’t mind giving up my time, and if it helped get the word out, I could
write it off as advertising. I called inside and picked up an information
leaflet from the desk.

***

I arrived home to the sound of
indie rock. Kendrick was in the living room, and he wasn’t alone. He was with a
girl—and a pretty one at that, if you discounted the bruises on her face. He
glanced up as I entered, and sniggered. “Fuck me. Finally found the scissors,
huh? About time.”

“You like? I asked, ruffling my
fingers across what was left of my hair.

“Looking sharp, dude.” He pushed
out his bottom lip as his head bobbed. “So, where were you, last night? Your
bed wasn’t slept in.”

“Next door.”

“All night?”

“I was kinda busy.”

“Yeah, but all night, dude? What
did you do, fall asleep in the shed? I thought you’d finished there?”

“Man, I’ve only just started. Where’s
Paps?”

“Taking a nap.”

I glanced at the empty chair in
the corner. “Where?”

“Upstairs.”

Right on cue, the muffled sound
of coughing sounded from above. “It’s not like him to take to his bed. Is he
okay?”

Kendrick shrugged. “Looked fine
to me. I guess he didn’t want to intrude. Stop changing the subject.”

“What subject?”

“Where the fuck were you … exactly?”

I took Pappa’s spot in his chair
and stretched out my legs. Smokey interrupted his snooze on the hearth rug to
offer me a disapproving stare, before licking his lips and resuming his catnap.
“Don’t worry. Your dibs are still intact,” I said, smiling at the girl. “Are
you going to introduce me?”

He took hold of the girl’s hand,
squeezed it, and grinned. “This is my friend, Molly.”

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Johnny, an
older version of this dipshit.” I nodded at my brother.

Molly managed to force out a
barely audible hello, before Kendrick explained, “She needs a place to stay
tonight.”

“You mean you need a place to
stick your dick.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth. It’s not
like that. Molly’s a friend.”

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