Page 7 of The Other Guy

He laughs heartily, throwing his head back. “Well, now you gotta tell me.”

“All right. Fine. You heard anything about number neighbors?”

He pulls a face that looks like he just ate something sour. “What the fuck is that?”

I laugh, shaking my head. Kyle probably doesn’t even own a smart phone, much less pay attention to what is happening in the social world.

“Uncle Kyle, you are so out of touch, you know that?” Kyle’s niece sidles up next to him, kisses his cheek, and helps herself to a draft beer.

“Thank God for that,” he jokes. “Jack, this is Sierra. Sierra, Jack.”

I extend a hand across the bar top and we shake, hers firm and confident, matching my own. Her beauty doesn’t go unnoticed, not in any way, but I have enough respect for Kyle to not be a douche and stare at her with my tongue hanging out.

My phone buzzes alerting me of another text but I ignore it for a few seconds. I have no idea what to say.

“Hi, Jack. Nice to meet ya.”

“Same.”

“So tell me about this number neighbor thing.” She leans a hip against the bar and takes a sip of her beer. Her eyes are twinkling and smile is wide. I glance at Kyle and back to Sierra, hardly able to tear my eyes away from her. Lashes so long and thick they look like they weigh her deep brown eyes down. Her fingernails are cut short and painted a shiny black and her lips are cherry red. She’s wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt that has the words Witch, please printed on the front and if I’m not mistaken, she’s not wearing a bra by the way I’m seeing her tits bounce and her nipples poking at the thin fabric. I drag my gaze lower to a pair of black skinny jeans and when she spins around to grab an orange off the back counter, I get a great view of her tight, firm ass confirming my earlier suspicions.

Fuck.

I just did a thorough checking out of her, exactly what I was trying not to do just seconds ago. I risk a glance at Kyle and see he’s staring at me with his eyebrows raised and a Really, fucker? expression on his face. I shrug, and actually mouth the word sorry to him. He rolls his eyes and moves down the line, helping another customer, leaving me alone with his niece, probably against his instincts.

Not that he has anything to worry about with me. But I can’t help but look. No harm in that, right?

“So?” Sierra’s voice pulls me away from my inner thoughts and back on her, which technically is where they were to begin with.

“What?”

“What’s the deal with the number thing?”

She slices into an orange and squeezes the juice of one wedge into her beer, tosses it in the garbage (I assume or she just chucked it on the floor) then takes a long drink. Then she takes another orange slice and squeezes it into my glass without seeking permission. “Trust me. I keep telling Uncle Kyle that he needs to include an orange wedge with wheat beers but he’s old school and boring!” she shouts the word boring and he simply shakes his head. “Go on. Try it.”

I take a sip, not wanting to tell her that I’ve had orange in my beer plenty of times and make a big showing of going “Mmm” and nodding my head in agreement with wide eyes like I’ve just tasted nirvana. Seriously, she acts like she just invented the wheel. Pretty sure orange in beer has been a thing for decades, but whatever. Let her believe she’s discovered it. Who am I to steal her joy?

“Right?!” She’s smiling so wide that I can see a tiny speck of red lipstick on her bright white teeth which for some reason makes me chuckle. She’s a freaking mess. Spunky as hell, and even a little funny, even though I’m pretty sure she’s not trying to be.

Another buzz of my phone pulls both of our attention to my phone.

16: Going silent now?

I glance up at Sierra and she raises a single dark eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. She’s not close enough to read the text which is good. Not that I have anything to hide.

Me: No. Just trying to figure out how to explain this without me coming across like the asshole in this scenario.

16: This oughta be good.

Me: Well, you see…

16: Pins and needles here.

Me: Patience not your virtue, huh?

“Is that your textdoor neighbor?” Sierra asks, excitement in her voice.

I’d just taken a big drink of my beer which I now choke on. “Textdoor neighbor?” I ask, sputtering. I grab a napkin and wipe away the beer that’s dribbling down my chin.

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