Page 41 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

“Why are we celebrating it today, then?”

“Because kid-free is the way to be, and I needed an excuse to indulge in some beer with my best friend.”

“I’ll drink to that.” I clink my bottle to his.

“I’ve drunk to less.”

I laugh. “True.”

He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “All right, so, let me get this straight: you’re living with your neighbor.”

“Yes.”

“Who is hot as hell.”

“She’s…okay.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen her—she’s hot.”

“Ah, you’ve seen her, but have youtalkedto her for a long period? It definitely docks hotness points.”

“Hot is hot.” He rolls his eyes. “But what you’re really trying to sit here and tell me is that living with your sexy neighbor is going to be the death of you because sheannoys you?”

“Yes.”

He shakes his head. “If anything, it’s going to kill your sex life.” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding…it’s already dead.”

“Fuck you very much, Nolan.” I flip him the bird and lift my beer bottle to my lips, taking a swig.

I hate that he’s not wrong.

My sex lifeisa joke. I don’t remember the last time I went on a date that ended with me between two warm thighs instead of at home with my cock in my right hand.

It’s been a long time. Too fucking long if you ask me.

The last girl I went out with spent the entire evening staring at her phone, and then she had the audacity to be offended when I suggested I take her home instead of back to my place.

Could I have taken her to my apartment and likely enjoyed a round or two in the sheets? There’s no doubt about that.

But, shit, I like at least a little bit of decent conversation beforehand.

I’m not rushing to fall in love or anything, and I’m not saying I’m some heroic dude who hasn’t ever taken a girl home just for sex; I’m just bored with the dating scene. There hasn’t been a single girl I’ve gone out with who I’ve given a second thought to since…shit, I don’t even know how long.

Nolan laughs. “Now, now, Mr. Evans, that’s not very teacherly of you.”

“Please.” I set my bottle back in front of me, wrapping my fingers around it, picking at the blue and red label. “Everyone has these buttoned-up versions of teachers in their heads, but we’re just as fucked up as the rest of ’em. We’re simply better at hiding it.”

“That’s right. Don’t want to startle the kiddos. Little twerps.”

I chuckle. “One of these days, man, you’re going to get knocked on your ass and end up with about ten of the little shits running around.”

He scoffs. “Please. I know better than to get roped into that. That’s eighteen years of responsibility.” He curls his lips, disgusted by the idea. “No thanks.”

“Right, Mr. Commitment-phobe. I forgot.”

“At least I know what I do and don’t want.”

Ouch.“I don’t think that’s anything to brag about when you’re always running after the honeymoon phase is over.”

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