Page 25 of The Chad Next Door
“Hey,” I breathe, itching to climb right back into his arms.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking and wishes to avoid that. He said he was fine, but I can’t imagine it was easy holding me that long. “Hi,” he says back. “Uh, I came over to make a suggestion, but I don’t want you to think I’m telling you what to do.”
I wouldn’t mind if he told me what to do. I know I’ve responded poorly in the past, but I’m learning to love the way he takes charge and has so much confidence in what he’s doing. Do I tell him this? Of course not. “Well, that’s a terrible start to a conversation,” I say, leaning on the door frame with my arms casually folded.
A breeze blows past him, sharper than I expected, and he huddles up closer to himself. “Hear me out, okay? This storm is looking like it’s a pretty big deal, and I’m not sure how well your house is going to handle it.”
As if in response to that comment, the wind blows again and whistles through a part of the house behind me. Probably through the hole in the back window. I cringe, all stubbornness gone as I imagine how cold it’s going to get if that wind keeps blowing. “What’s your suggestion?” I ask, now folding my arms for warmth instead of looking cool and casual.
Chad takes a step forward, almost like he’s thinking about wrapping me up to keep me warm, but he thinks better of the idea and remains where he is. A pity. His eyes still wander over me though, like he’s imagining the gesture anyway. “I’m proposing the three of you spend the weekend at my house,” he says with impressive gentleness, like he knows that this is a big ask.
It should be an easy choice. This should be a no-brainer because his house is clearly bigger and nicer than mine, and I highly doubt he has a wolverine-sized hole in one of his windows to let in the chill. I guess notallof my stubbornness went away because instinct is telling me to say no and tell him we’ll be perfectly fine, especially because he stacked a bunch of wood on the side of our house this morning.
Another breeze wanders through the house, this time moaning from the fireplace that I don’t even know how to use. I’ve seen movies where they don’t turn a lever or something and all of the smoke comes into the house instead of going outside, and I’d rather not be that person just because I’m too stubborn to let a big strong man help me.
I shiver, both from the cold and because I actually like the idea of letting this big strong man take care of me. Take care ofus. He proved he’s good for my family last night, and if he could get Link to talk to a near stranger in a single evening, I can’t imagine what he might do for my kids over the course of a weekend.
“You sure you can handle us for a whole weekend?” I ask as casually as I can. I don’t actually want him to say no.
He smiles, only one side of his mouth curling up. “I can handle you just fine.”
Oh goodness, the way he says that sends a shiver running through me that hasnothingto do with the cold. It’s the growl in his soft words that undoes me, along with the way his eyes search my face with a sort of hunger in them. We’ll probably make it through the storm, no problem, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to survive this weekend if he’s going to be looking at me like that. Whatever switch flipped in me, I’m going to hazard a guess that his flipped too.
“Okay,” I breathe, arms dropping to my sides because I can’t hold them up anymore. They were already tired after last night’s jungle gym adventure, and something about this man just makes me weak. I feel like I’m swooning, which is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard yet I absolutely love everything about it. This is my life now—swooning over my ridiculously attractive man of a neighbor who less than a week ago looked at me like I was the bane of his existence and now seems to be devouring me with his eyes.
“You’ll want to pack some clothes for you and the kids,” he says after a long moment of silently gazing at me. “I have plenty of blankets and food and things.”
“You didn’t let me watch you chop firewood,” I say, cringing because—what? Am I really that creepy?
Thankfully, Chad chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll have another chance. I’ll be next door prepping some things, and you should hurry.” He glances up, where the sky has gotten heavy with snow. “The storm’s coming in fast.”
By the time we make it over to Chad’s and knock on the front door, Zelda is screaming because I won’t let her build a snowman until it stops snowing and Link is crying because he’s afraid it’s the end of the world or something. I’m at my wit’s end, but at least they have enough clothes to last them a few days. I don’t even know what I packed in my own bag because I was so busy trying to calm my emotional kids, but hopefully it’s something I can actually wear. If not, I can brave the elements long enough to get back over to my house and grab something else. Mostly, I wanted to make sure the kids were set and that we didn’t take too long to get over to Chad’s in case he took back his offer.
He wouldn’t do that, but he hasn’t fully experienced this side of the kids. So maybe he would if given a chance.
Chad opens his door quickly, bundled head to toe in snow gear. Should I have been preparing for the apocalypse? Or was he coming to rescue us? Seeing my questions on my face, he gives me a quick smile and gestures for us to come inside. “I want to go check on Hank down the road,” he says. “He didn’t answer his phone, and I worry he’s too busy writing to notice how bad the storm’s getting.”
He knows our other neighbor? I don’t even know the guy beyond what June has told me, and I’m way friendlier than Chad. I would say it’s because he’s been here for a year, but June told me earlier this week that Chad moved in just a couple of days before we did, which brought up so many questions that I’ll probably end up asking this weekend while we’re trapped together by the snow.
“The TV is all yours,” Chad tells me, pulling gloves over his hands and looking insanely sexy as he prepares to head out into the elements on his rescue mission. “Feel free to use the Nintendo or anything. I shouldn’t be gone long, but if for some reason we lose power while I’m out, the fireplace is prepped and ready to go. You just have to light the kindling.”
I haven’t said a word since he opened the door, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he watches the suddenly calm kids settle on the couch, already turning on the game console as Duke snuggles up beside them. A delicious little smile plays on his mouth as he takes them in, which has me feeling all sorts of feelings again. Apparently, he is not just okay with us invading his house during the storm; hewantedus to come over.
Is this man actually real? Because I’m starting to think he’s just a manifestation of the dream guy I didn’t know I had. Maybe I wouldn’t have picked someone so much older than me, but then again I’ve always felt older than I really am.
“I’ll be back soon,” he says to me, and then he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he slips outside and climbs into his truck.
Placing a hand over the warm spot he left on my cheek, I watch him drive away with a nervous ball forming in my gut, and I have to wonder if this is how it feels to watch a loved one drive away. That would be crazy to feel that strongly for him, and yet…
Two hours later, I’m pacing. Hank’s house is less than a mile down the road, and even if the truck got stuck or something, there’s no way it would take that long to walk. Granted, I’ve never walked in snow before, so maybe it does take that long, but right now I’m picturing Chad lying dead and frozen on the side of the road, buried under a snowbank so deep that no one will find him until everything thaws in the spring. If I had his number, I would try calling his phone, but despite how comfortable I was clinging to him for a solid five minutes last night, we haven’t reached phone number sharing levels in our relationship. Neighborship. Whatever this would be called.
Something tells me Chad isn’t much of a texter, and I picture him with a flip phone that’s almost as old as me.
The kids, thankfully, haven’t noticed how long Chad has been gone. We still have power, and they’ve been so deep into Mario Kart that I doubt they are even aware of the storm anymore. I’ve thought about asking if I can join, but not only would they completely demolish me, but they would also pick up on my nerves if I ended up being that close to them. Right now, I’m pacing in the kitchen, away from where they can see, and I’m immensely glad Duke has decided to pace with me so I don’t feel entirely alone.
When I think I hear a sound outside, I pause, and Duke whines a little next to me. But it’s just the wind and its relentless attack on the side of the house. The snow is so thick that I can’t see out of the windows anymore, which is kind of insane.
I grab another mini donut and stuff it into my mouth, and the dog gives me a bit of side eye that I don’t appreciate. Okay, so maybe I’ve eaten most of the bag, but I need the pacing fuel. Besides, Chad doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would miss powdered donuts. He is way too fit for this to be a regular snack, and they were front and center with a bunch of other junk food that makes me think he raided the grocery store before he even invited us over.
