Page 19 of The Chad Next Door
“How about we agree to disagree?” Hope says with a roll of her eyes.
“Seems to be a theme with us,” I reply.
She grins, and I’m mesmerized by her smile. Despite losing her sister and taking on a couple of kids who are dealing with a lot of trauma, she has such an open and honest smile. The world hasn’t broken her yet, and I wish I could protect her from the inevitable heartbreak that comes from being alive. I wish I could keep her happy like this becausesomeonedeserves to feel that way.
A brisk breeze blows over us, winding its way inside my tank and chilling me to my core. That’s when I realize that at some point over the last couple of minutes, I’ve adjusted my hold on Hope’s hand so that it’s pressed between both of mine and held against my chest in such a way that I could easily caress her fingers. Press a kiss to her palm. Pull her those few inches closer and see if her lips are as soft as they look.
I drop her hand like I’ve been burned and take a couple of steps back, wishing I could take back the last few minutes because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea. There may be attraction here—I’d be stupid to admit otherwise—but there are so many reasons why it has to end there. I could make a whole list.
In fact, I do make a list as I brush a hand over my hair and pretend like nothing just happened.
1. She is twenty-four years old.
2. Link and Zelda need some stability in their lives.
3. She’s twenty-four. Twelve years younger than me.
4. I only planned to stay in Laketown for a few weeks. Maybe less.
5. TWENTY-FOUR
6. I got my heart broken six months ago, and I don’t think there’s enough of it left to give it to someone new.
Okay, so, I’m not sure I realized that last one until just now. I knew Mercedes hurt me, and I knew I was okay with being on my own because I don’t want to experience heartbreak again. But this is different. This is me suddenly realizing that my own pain is not my biggest motivator for staying solitary.
I don’t think I can love anyone the way they’ll deserve, which means I need to stay far away from Hope. She deserves more than what I can give her, no matter how much I feel a pull toward her.
“Well, I’ll let you finish your run,” she says, and her face shows all of the awkwardness I’ve caused by forgetting for a moment who and where I was.
“Hope?”
She turns.
I give her a sad smile. “Think you could give us a ride home? This body isn’t what it used to be.”
Thankfully, that gets a grin out of her, but she also gives me a full perusal from head to toe, which sends a shiver through me because she seems to like what she sees. Her eyes go a little glassy at the same time her cheeks turn a flattering shade of pink. Then she clears her throat and the moment is over. “Get in the car, old man.”
Duke interprets that for himself and hops through her open door before I can even move, and I am more certain than ever that staying away from this woman is going to be a lot harder than I would like.
That’s not going to stop me from trying.
Chapter Ten
Hope
October 17
I have never been morethankful for Zelda’s nonstop talking. It has been a whirlwind week with getting the kids back into the habit of school—for Link, this year is his first time doing school full-time—and I’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone think about my neighbor whenever the kids are home. Zelda keeps that theme going tonight, forcing my focus to remain on her as she goes on and on about a girl at school while I make spaghetti. I listen hard because I want to make sure they both had a good day and are making friends. And, honestly, anything is better than the last several days, during which I pretended to clean up the house when really I was just thinking about the way Chad—so much better than Grizz—held on to my hand on the road last week.
And more than that… I’ve never had a man look at me the way Chad looked at me. Over the course of a few minutes, he went from exasperation to irritation, sympathy to excitement, appreciation to…dare I say it? Adoration? Admiration? Attraction? Any of the A words, that was him. What does that even mean?
We haven’t interacted since the road, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen him. He tends to be outside a lot, playing with his dog or cleaning up his yard. At one point he was stringing lights on his deck, and I may have had to sit on the kitchen sink to get a good view out the window, but I enjoyed the view a little too much. The way his arms—I will never get over his arms—stretched over his head as he attached the lights. The man has phenomenal arms. They’re the kind of arms I wouldn’t mind wrapped around me for an extended period of time.
“Did you hear me, Hope?”
I absolutely did not. I was dreaming about a man’s biceps while stirring the spaghetti sauce. “Sorry, sweetie, what did you say?”
“I said that the man who lives next to us is outside if you want to watch him again.”
