Page 11 of Grease Monkey
Shay:OMFG. You climbed up the trellis by his room and spied on him like a creepy-stalking-motherfucking pervert? I’m so proud.
I can practically see her devious grin and hand pressed to her heart.
Morgana:No, you idiot! Why do I tell you things?
Shay:Because you love me.
Morgana:Well, I’m done. I’m not telling you anything else.
Shay:Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Continue, please.
Morgana:Mom wanted me to get a dish back, he was in the garage, I walked around and saw THROUGH THE WINDOW, Brittany O’Malley sucking his dick.
Shay:Urgh, I hate that bitch.
I sigh and close my ees, taking a second before replying.
Morgana:Not the point, Shay.
Shay:You’re right. Okay, so you watched him get sucked off by that skank. Then what happened?Was he big? Tell me he was hung like a horse?
Morgana:He saw me.
Shay:OMFG, this is brilliant.
Shay:What did he do?What did SHE do?
Shay:What did he say?
Shay:Are you purposely ignoring the size question?
Shay:What’s his surname again? I want to IG stalk.
My throat feels thick as I read her messages, firing in one after the other. Shay knows all about my insanely good-looking neighbor, but until now, I’ve managed to dodge any questions about him because I felt like he was mine. I love Shay to the ends of the world but know without any doubt that if she saw Teddy, she’d want him too. Bitterness and jealousy swirl in my veins at the thought of her being anywhere near him, and I’m not entirely sure why.
Yes, you do. It’s because you have a crush, you silly, naïve girl.Albeit a superficial one, but it has definitely amplified after today.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Shay:Found him.*Link to Instagram account*
Shay:He is hot as hell, Morgs! Go for it. If you don’t, I will*winky emoji*
Morgana:He sees me as his neighbor, Shay.
Shay:Well, maybe you should make yourself seem more than a “neighbor” …
Easy for her to say, Miss Always-Gets-What-She-Wants. I click on his Instagram account instead of replying. I’ve never checked his social media accounts before. Facebook, Twitter, IG… nothing. Apparently, my perving has levels and searching out his socials is a step too far.
But a little voyeurism is okay?
Teddy’s profile illuminates my screen. My heart thuds heavily, feeling like it somehow moved from beneath my ribcage to my throat when my finger clicked the link. Carefully, I scroll, ensuring I don’t do any accidental ‘liking’ on photos posted months ago. There are endless photos of Teddy with family members—due to the minor similarities between them all—several more standing with cars, some at baseball games or the beach, all different images depicting his life before he moved here. Several pictures of a shirtless Teddy ignite the small amount of lust still coursing through my body. My fingers pause over one where he’s playfully looking up at the camera, lying on a towel, his body half-propped on his elbow as he grins at the photographer. His biceps bulge, his skin shines from sunscreen, and aviator sunglasses cover his gorgeous brown eyes. I swipe upward, the feed stopping on one of him and another guy, surfboards slung under their arms as they jog along the sand, running toward the photographer. It’s a fantastic shot. Looks almost professional, like it’s been taken as part of a photoshoot for beachwear or something.
“Sand, sea, surf. Twenty is not too bad. HBD to me. July 25,” the caption reads.
My leg begins to tingle with the telltale signs it’s about to go numb—an unfortunate side effect caused by the distraction that is Teddy, as notifications fill the top of my screen. My heart lurches again like I’ve been caught looking at something I shouldn’t.Oh, wait…
Shay:You know I was joking, right?
