Page 9 of Gift of You
“Mom . . .”
“I know, I know. It’s just not right without you here.”
“Quit harassing the boy.” Dad walked into the frame, crouching down so I could see his face. “Merry Christmas, Lou!”
“Thanks, Pop!”
He turned his attention to Natalie. “Where’s the remote? I want to watch the game.”
“Isn’t Charlie back there? Can’t he help you?”
Movement outside the window caught my eye, my family’s bickering fading into the background. Someone was out on the balcony, apparently sweeping. It was hard to tell with the layers of clothes he was wearing, but I thought it was Matthew. I had the compulsion to walk over to the window and verify that it was him, but I couldn’t step out of frame of the call without answering questions from my family.
As the bickering continued on-screen, I sipped my coffee, thinking back to the moment I’d woken up during the night. I’d been startled out of sleep, blinking into the dark, wondering what had woken me, when I’d distinctly heard a moan from the other side of the wall. Certain I’d been mistaken, I’d lain frozen, eyes wide as if that would somehow help me to hear better,waiting to see if I’d catch the sound again. I’d been just about to give up when I’d heard a thud and another muffled groan. Scrambling, I’d sat up and leaned my head against the wall, hoping to hear it again. Was Matthew jerking off next door?
Initially, I’d had difficulty picturing him in the throes of a masturbatory session. He was so serious—so dour—it was hard to imagine him letting loose in that way. But the more improbable I’d found the idea, the more my brain had supplied the images anyway. Matthew laid out on his bed, hand fisting his cock, head thrown back... eyes squeezed shut and brows drawn up in concentration while his mouth hung open, breath coming in gasps as he worked himself over. Would he cup his balls while he stroked? Did he use lube? Did straight guys know about lube?
Jesus. I’d been fantasizing about mystraight, widowed neighbor. And on Christmas Eve. Surely I was going to hell.
Whether or not the man was giving himself a handy wasn’t my business. And if hehadbeen doing so, then good for him. Everyone deserved a a little self-love.
I’d resolved then and there to go back to bed, sliding back down between the sheets, trying my damndest to ignore the erection I’d been rocking as the result of my overactive imagination. Unfortunately, I’d gone to bed nude, and the feel of the sheets brushing against my oversensitive dick had made my arousal impossible to ignore. Knowing it was a lost cause, I’d quickly stroked one out—using lube, of course—before settling back in to sleep.
“Lou? Louis?! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” I jerked my eyes back to the screen to find both my mother and my sister staring at me expectantly. Well, in my mom’s case it was more like a glare than a stare.
“Sorry. Something outside caught my attention.”
“Oh my gosh! Is it a bear? A mountain lion? I worry about you out there in the middle of nowhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a small town, not an isolated cabin in the woods. I’m literally in an apartment above the hardware store. I hardly think a bear is going to climb up a flight of stairs and beat down my door.”
“Depends on the type of bear...” My sister’s smirk was smug as fuck. Too bad this particular bear was straight and unlikely to beat down my door anytime soon.
I picked up my mug and sipped my coffee, but something on my face must have given me away. “Wait.Isthere a bear?” Dammit. Natalie had always been able to read me better than anyone.
“No. It’s just my neighbor. He’s brushing snow off the walk.”
“So what’s his story?”
“I’ve been here a little over two days. What makes you think I know his story?”
The two most important women in my life arched their brows in eerily similar expressions. A shudder ran up my spine, and I found myself spilling what I knew. I really was the worst at keeping things to myself.
“Fine. He’s a widower. Wife died of cancer. He and his wife opened a bookstore, which he now runs by himself, and he lives in the apartment next door to the one I’m renting.”
“Seems like you know plenty.”
I’m also pretty sure I know what he sounds like when he comes.
I shrugged. “I’ve bumped into him a couple of times. His bookstore is delightful.”
“Sounds like he could use some company,” Mom said, her tone heavy with meaning. The woman didn’t have a subtle bone in her body.
“Did you miss the part about the deadwife? Pretty sure the guy is straight.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe he’s one of those bisexuals.”
“Thosebisexuals?”
