Page 13 of The Games We Play

As I step to the top of my mat, I open my eyes and glance at the neighbor’s house. My previous neighbors had lived there when I moved in and, to my knowledge, had no plans on moving. Until one day, a moving truck appeared in their front yard. They said they just decided it was time, packed up, and left. They didn’t even give me any contact information or tell me where they were going.

Now, a mysterious—and very large—Ford Raptor has been parked in the driveway since the day the new neighbor’s moving truck showed up. The friend I met, who was helping theneighbor move, seemed nice enough, but it’s been days later and no sign of the new neighbor.

I personally think it’s imperative to know your neighbors, so I have every intention of knocking on the door every day until I do. I know I can be a lot, with my overly bubbly and friendly personality, so I’ll give them a few days to get settled in before doing that.

I cycle through a few sun salutations, and as I arch deeper into my upward facing dog pose, my eyes peer over the fence line to the second story window. It overlooks the neighbor’s yard and, inadvertently, mine, as well.

It catches my attention because that window has always had thick, horizontal blinds that wereneveropened.

But right now, they are wide open.

I squint, trying to adjust my vision, and suddenly a shadow shifts in the background and the blinds slam close all at once.

Shit.

I push back onto my heels and glance down at myself, then back up to the window.

It’s not like I’m dressed in anything worse than a swimsuit, but that’s not the first impression I wanted to give my neighbor. I hope they just so happened to be looking out the window and weren't actually staring the entire time.

Well, shit.

I roll up my mat and grab my clothes from the chair, stepping back into the house.

I need to plan to meet my neighbor sooner than later.

6

SEAMUS

This is twice now. Twice she’s almost seen me, and twice I’ve ended up trying to blend into a goddamn wall.

I crane my neck to peek out between the drawn blinds of the window. I can only see her lower half as her feet shuffle into her flip flops and then she steps inside her house.

She must have seen me, or at least the silhouette of someone watching her, otherwise she wouldn’t have stopped.

She does yoga in her underwear.

She does yoga…in a dainty bra and barely there panties.

In her backyard.

I glance around the surrounding houses and, fortunately, none have a second story, so no one has the same view I have. I can’t decide if I’m happy about the fact that I chose this specific house or really fucking pissed off about it.

It’s a torturous temptation.

She stretched and moved her body flawlessly through every pose, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.

It was like her own personal dance that was a show just for me.

My cock, normally not influenced by somethingso basic as a woman in a thong and sports bra, was standing full salute the entire time.

Jesus, Hudson is right. I am losing my touch. I have no control over my body or my incessant thoughts of Mimi.

I was going to give it a little more time before I dropped myself back into her world, but I’m tired of waiting.

If I can just reconnect with her, clear the air between us, figure out what happened, I won’t feel so conflicted and unruly. I’ve never felt so out of control in my entire life, and I need some of it back. All of it, preferably.

But if our meeting at Afterburn is a precursor of how she’ll respond to me when she sees me again, I have to plan the next one perfectly.

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