Page 44 of My Neighbor's Secret

Auggie takes a deep breath like he’s bracing himself for something, but, ultimately, he follows me inside. While he waits in the living room, I grab the video camera from my bedroom and come back and plug it in with the new cord. But nothing happens.

“Maybe it needs to charge fully to start working?” I suggest.

“Nah. Once it’s plugged in, it should be fully functional.” Auggie takes the device from me and monkeys around with it for a bit. But when he’s done, he concludes we’ve got the right kind of cord, but the camera itself must be broken somehow and not able to receive the charge.

“What a bummer,” I say. “How are we going to watch all those cassettes?”

“We’ll find ourselves a working camera, that’s how.” Auggie pulls out his phone, runs a couple searches, and finds the exact same model of video camera for a cheap price. “New camera on its way,” he says with a wink. “We should have it in less than a week.”

“Sorry for the delay. I know you’re super stressed about what might be on those cassettes.”

Auggie flashes me a crooked smile. “I’mmildlystressed about that. I’msuperstressed about getting the money we need.”

“It’s funny how a person’s priorities can change, huh?”

“Life is funny that way, for sure.”

Something passes between us. A nonverbal recognition, perhaps, of how much has changed between us in only a few short days.

“So, what’s your schedule tomorrow?” I ask, and Auggie replies that he’s got class in the morning, but he’s free to do shows with me after that.

“Do you want to bring Lucky here on your way to school tomorrow? There’s no reason for him to be left alone while you’re gone.”

“Really? He’d love that.”

“Great. I’d love the company. I’ll even take him for a walk.”

Auggie thanks me profusely, and we talk about timing. He tells me about a little park, on-campus, where Lucky loves to play ball, and I say I’d be happy to take him there. Auggie says he always grabs coffee and an egg sandwich in the morning when he takes Lucky out first thing, so I give him my breakfast order. And through it all, sexual energy is crackling between us. It’s undeniable.

“Well, goodnight, Charlotte. Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight, Auggie. You, too.”

He heads to my front door. But before opening it, he stops, turns around, and says, “Or, in the words of a certain boy band who lived on the walls of a young Charlotte McDougal’s bedroom:Bye, bye, bye.”

I lose it. That’s the title of a smash-hit *NSYNC song—one with an iconic music video featuring the exact same hand gesture Auggie just performed while saying the titular words—“bye, bye, bye.”

“Just a little dangling carrot for you,” he says, brimming with swagger.

I laugh. “Like I needanotherdangling carrot? Sir, I assure you, I’m already feelingdeeplymotivated.”

Auggie’s blue eyes sweep the length of my body. “Good to know the feeling is mutual.” He opens my door. “Nighty night, Charlotte.” With that, he saunters out of my doorframe with Lucky at his heels and shuts the door behind him, leaving me staring at my closed door in physical awe of the sexual attraction I’m feeling for him. Holy hot damn. I had it all wrong at Captain’s. Auggie Vaughn is one hot motherfucker. And if I everthought otherwise, I was hopelessly distracted, stubborn as a mule, or a goddamned fool.

15

AUGGIE

Three days later

Ibarrel into my place after practically sprinting the two blocks from campus, throw my backpack onto my couch, and jump into a hot shower. At school today, I could barely concentrate on the lectures and labs, because I couldn’t stop daydreaming about Charlotte and the crazy, silly—and ultimately, white-hot—"puppet shows” we’ve been doing, multiple times per day. But every bit as much as that stuff, I’ve also been thinking about all the time I’ve spent with Charlotte, fully clothed and hanging out. Damn, I’m having a blast with that woman.

In between shows, we’ve settled into a routine of sorts. After our first show, we walk Lucky together—take him to that little park for a game of fetch. While there, we grab food or a smoothie and talk. Unwind. Make each other laugh. And then, head back.

After our second show, we cuddle up on my couch to watch a show or movie, but always wind up talking again. And after the third and final show, we grab a full meal . . . and talk and cuddle and hang out some more.

Put it all together, along with all the naked fooling around we do during our shows, and all the time I’ve been spending with Charlotte feels like the best romantic relationship of my life. Except, of course, that’s not what it is. And I know that. Somewhere in my brain, anyway.

Aw, fuck. I’m catching feelings for Charlotte and I know it. But how could I not? I’ve never feltthiscomfortable, this fast, with anyone. And I’ve also never gotten naked and fooled around this much, on a daily basis, over and over again, with a single girlfriend I’ve ever had. So in the end, I can’t help finding the whole thing extremely confusing.

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