The Neighbor #3 (The Neighbor #3)

THE
NEIGHBOR #3

Book
3

By
Claire Adams

This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright
© 2014 Claire Adams

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Chapter One

Ryder’s bedroom was awash in sunlight the next
morning. It occurred to me that I had never spent this time of day in the
bedroom with him. Last time it was so early the sun wasn’t even rising
yet.
 
It was heavenly.

“Afterglow,” he said with distinct pleasure in
his voice. “I have never basked in it like this before. I have certainly never
experienced it with a woman like you. One of my favorite albums is
So Much for the Afterglow
by
Everclear
. I just
made myself look old again since they are a 1990’s post-grunge band. I think I
am babbling, which I do when I am relaxed,” Ryder said.

I wasn’t paying attention to a word Ryder was
saying. He was going on about music while all I could think about was that I
was naked in bed with Ryder Curran again…my human sexuality
 
professor, my golf instructor, my
boyfriend/partner—and a person who had cancer. It wasn’t the easiest thing to
wrap my mind around.

His king bed could have been a twin and we
would have ample space; our bodies were twisted around each other in a sensual
embrace. I took a good look at his head in the direct sunlight. The cancer, the
scar—everything was starting to make sense. He had not lost all his hair but it
was clearly a worry. It must have been why he liked to wear a cap all the time.
I laid my head on his shoulder, wrapped my arm around his neck, and fingered
his scar with my forefinger.

“Stop.”
Ryder shot up making me jump.

“It’s okay,” I said.

He eyed me suspiciously for a moment, and then
spoke in an angry tone. “You know I have cancer obviously since you’re so damn
curious about everything. How did you find out?” Ryder asked.

“You forget that my father had cancer. I
learned a lot about it. I saw the pill bottles in the bathroom and I was especially
familiar with the anti-nausea medications and the
Tropisteron
.
When my father was ill, we had to administer it through his IV drip. I was
surprised to see it as an oral med.” I had a great deal of cancer information
stored in the back of my mind.

“Since you think you’re so smart, can you tell
from the drugs what type of cancer I have?” Ryder asked.
 
I wasn’t sure if the question was antagonist
or curious in nature.

“Since your head has been cut open I assume
you have—or had—brain cancer. And I am aware it’s not contagious, so lay back
down with me.”

He stared at me for a moment and then spoke.
“For a little while, I liked to say I just had a malignant tumor. It sounded
less dire. After all I have been
through,
you would
think that I would’ve made peace with the cancer.”

“So…you’re in denial?”

“Something
like
that.
I am not going to make friends with cancer. Some have told me that I should
consider it the enemy. I’m not going to do that either. I just throw a cap on
my head, take the pills and let the pros stick me with needles, and then I
ignore it.”

Ryder was finally opening up to me. “You must
think about it when you are puking your guts out,” I said referring to our
first night together. It was not the alcohol, which sent him running to the
bathroom. “You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol, Ryder, and you should start
focusing on your diet because it matters most. Cancer or not, it prolongs your
life.”

He sighed and threw his hands in the air.
“This is why I conceal my disease. I want to enjoy life. I am not going to live
in a plastic bubble or live life eating twigs and seeds. You can save the climb
and put your soap-box away,” Ryder said.

I understood where Ryder was coming from, but
I thought he was being an ass. I should have chosen not to push him on the
issue at that point, but I was not going to stand by and see a man I cared for,
die. This was new to me and I wanted more information. I relied on my instincts
to know when I probed too deeply.

“What is the
Keppra
used for?” I had seen the bottle next to his glass of water, so I assumed it
was something he was currently taking.

“Why? I think you know all you need to about
what’s going on
.“

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

He grunted. “
Keppra
is just an anti-seizure medication okay? I am at a greater risk because they
rearranged shit inside my scull.” Ryder was defensive.

“Good to know in case you
spazz
out while your head is in my crotch,” I joked as Ryder seemed like he had
enough. I was still worried because I didn’t know if he was getting better or worse.

I rubbed Ryder’s chest and felt his heart
beating. I was becoming attached to the heart. I wondered if I would have
fallen so fast and so quickly if I had known Ryder was ill. When my father
died, he had been sick for a long time. He was never a particularly healthy
person. Ryder appeared vital and it would be unfair for him to die during the
prime of his life.

I moved towards him and kissed him gently, as
though he would break. I had to try hard to treat him the same way I had the
day before. If I didn’t, Ryder would notice. I untangled myself from his
sheets.

“Don’t tell me you’re leaving,” Ryder said in
a sleepy and very sexy voice.

I got up. I felt the effect of Ryder’s
feasting from the night before.

“I am going next door and to get a change of clothes.
Thanks to you, my panties are ripped. It would be ideal if you were right where
I left you when I get back,” I said and then kissed him on the lips. “I will
bring you some coffee and fruit for breakfast. I saw some on my mom’s kitchen
counter yesterday. I will tell you more about my mom later.”

I found my black dress sticking out from
beneath the bed. I slipped it on without undergarments. It was a wrinkled mess
and my hair was disheveled. I was set to take the walk of shame.

“You are beautiful Jenna Walsh,” he said as he
stared up at me.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” I returned. “I
honestly don’t know how long we are going to be able to keep this thing up.”

Ryder reached up with his hands and pulled me
closer to him.

“Say hello to your mom. I will count the
moments until your sexy ass returns,” Ryder said.

I grinned. “I will be back. Use the time to
take the necessary meds.” I wanted to pull those words back the moment they
left my lips. I had to resist the temptation to baby Ryder.

“Jenna – don’t,” Ryder said. He didn’t want me
to mention the cancer unless he did.

I nodded and grabbed my phone to leave. Ryder
was still in bed and I took the opportunity to return to the bathroom.
Something inside of me had to look at the pill bottles. I had to confirm that
is was real.

Ryder had cancer.

I stepped out the front door and my phone
buzzed. I
took a look
at the screen although there was
no one I wanted to talk with. My mind was on Ryder and the amazing evening we
had. I smiled when I realized it was a text from him.

Miss u already

Another text came.

Left bra/panties smell like you Nectar of the
gods

I’ll buy u a new pair

Before I reached the end of Ryder’s walkway, I
received my fourth text, and they kept on coming. I smiled.

Chapter
Two

Ryder’s hedge was hiding my car. If I was not
such a lazy ass I would have gotten in my vehicle, circled the block and parked
in my mother’s driveway. Lying to my mother was exhausting. She seemed to be on
a positive path and the last thing I wanted was to cause her to drown in her
gin bottle again.

I plodded down the sidewalk. My eyes darted
around the neighborhood to see if I was noticed. Since I had grown up on the
street, many still knew me as the Walsh baby or the little Walsh girl. They
were probably wondering why I stopped setting up my lemonade stand. They had an
image of me in pigtails and braces. The elderly couple across the street would
have something to talk about if they knew I had been beneath the sheets with
the new neighbor. They would be further surprised to hear he was fifteen years
older than I was—and my professor.
I
didn’t go
unnoticed as Mr. Simmons jogged by.

“Hey, Jenny.
What has you up and out so early?” Mr.
Simmons asked.

“It’s Jenna. I am just out enjoying the lovely
day. I see you are starting early also.”

“Yes. I am attempting to turn back the clock.
Getting this old body into shape.”
He could barely speak. He
was out of breath.

“Good for you, Mr. Simmons. Have a great day.”
I was hoping he would have nothing more to say. My lack of a bra and panties
made me incredibly uncomfortable. He may not have noticed but I felt like I was
jiggling all over the place.

“You too, Jenny.”
Mr. Simons continued his jog although walk
was more like it.

I made it up my porch steps. The short walk
had seemed like a long journey. In a sense, I was walking from my life as an
adult back into my life as it used to be. I pushed open the door, which
squeaked when I moved it. I was familiar with the sound. I could find my way
through the house blindfolded. It was my home for eighteen years; the longer I
was at school, Leach Hall seemed like home. As
I
thought about it, I was more comfortable at Ryder’s place than I was my
mother’s.

I came upon my mom standing in the kitchen. It
was better when she remained in bed with a bottle of gin. I had more privacy.

“Did you have a good time with Sayler?” My mom
stood with her hands on her hips.

“It was fine.”

My mother laughed but it wasn’t a friendly
chuckle.

“Did you see another movie with her? I
seriously doubt it as I saw her at the grocery store last night. She said I
should tell you hello. The two of you should really get your stories straight
if you are going to continue to use each other as a cover. I know you are lying
to me Jenna.” My mother stared at me as she had not done in a long time.

“I am living away from home, Mom. I am an
adult now but I’m sorry I was dishonest,” I said.

“Your car was visible through Ryder’s hedge. I
saw your head bobbing around in his kitchen.”

Thank god I was in the kitchen when she saw
me.

“So you have met your neighbor?” I asked.

“No I have not met Professor Ryder Curran.
People in the neighborhood have told me that he is teaching at South Carolina.”

“Mom, please stop playing games with me. I
know you have a speech prepared,” I said, throwing my arms in the air.

“Word on the street is that he is teaching
freshman human sexuality, which I am aware you are taking. Is he your
professor?”

“Yes, he is my professor, golf instructor, and
friend.” I had started the process of starting to explain my relationship to my
mother. It was not going to be an easy task.

“Jenna, I did not just fall off the turnip
truck. You were with Ryder all night. Look at you. You’re a mess. You might as
well wear a sign that says
I had
intercourse with my sex professor
.” My mom threw her hands back on her
broad hips.

No
, I wanted to say,
I did not have sexual intercourse with my teacher—I had oral sex
.
Maybe that would be harder for her to hear.

“Mom, I do not need to detail what Ryder and I
have done or not done. There is an age difference, but it is not unheard of.
Young women and older men have been hooking up for ages. Look at Hollywood.”