The Neighbor (part 1) in Write of B+

I felt my stomach flutter nervously as I looked up the few steps to the shared porch. He was sitting there, his body hard under that wife beater as he tapped the back of his cigarette pack on his knee. He ran his hand through his brown hair, his green eyes on me.

"Hey, you must be the new neighbor," he nodded that one guy-nod at my best friend, Eric, who was helping me move in.

"He's good looking," Eric grunted. I shrugged. I thought Eric was good looking, too. God-like, even, but I wasn't what Eric was looking for. I didn't have enough in my pants, and too much on top. In other words, Eric was the unflamingest homo I knew. It shot my idea of having gaydar to hell when I put a move on him and he had to put me in my place. Shame, really, because he was stacked.

"I guess?" I mumbled. Eric laughed.

"You're too damn shy, Bec," he teased me. It was one of the many reasons why I was already twenty five and still single. I didn't even have a pet fish, unable to commit to talking to the cute guy at the pet store to get one. How Eric and I became friends, I'd never guess.

"You need help?" a voice called from the doorway and we spun around, my misjudging and ramming my hip into the counter. "The washer?"

"Oh, yeah, thanks man," Eric tossed back, stifling a laugh at me as I tried to ignore the pricks of tears as I rubbed what would undoubtedly become a bruised hip. Eric was gone for longer than it should have taken for them to get the washer out of the back of Eric's pick up and up the steps. The two of them, I found, were sharing a beer while my old, second-hand washer sat unceremoniously in the grass.

"The washer?" I prompted. Eric threw me a grin, one that I had know to make girls and guys equally melt. Even I, who had been around it for the last three years, felt that same butterflies feeling, though I suspected that might have had, in part, to the way the neighbor smiled at me too. It was all I could do to keep from turning and looking behind me.

"You have any kids?" Eric asked him as they lifted the washer with little effort. Oh, how my heart sped up seeing the strong cords of muscle flinch under the strain.

"Yep, two," the neighbor offered. "They live with their mama, but I get them every other weekend, so it's not so bad."

"Planning on it with your current gal?" Eric asked as they shuffled through, me stepping back.

"No current gal, at the moment," he explained, winking at me. Screw butterflies, it felt like fireworks (and not the kind you'd come to expect on chili night). I could have literally fainted right there, dead, and been okay.

"Bec LOVES kids," Eric lied. I coughed. Excuse me I what? Eric knew that kids were not my favorite. They were loud, busy, and usually had something sticky on their hands or faces.

"Do you, Bec?" he stepped back towards the front of the house, smiling.

"She works at a pediatric clinic in town," Eric offered. "A nurse, right Bec?"

"Yeah," I croaked out. My face burned. I couldn't even manage a sexy, suave agreement. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. The moving truck pulled up right then, Eric's boy-toy of the moment, a massively manly man with a cut-off shirt jumping out.

"Hey, Eric," Aaron called out. I liked Aaron. He was the only other guy that I'd called wrong with my obviously broken gaydar. "You'd better not be flirting!"

"Sheesh, I'm not," Eric's cheeks pinked up as he jogged toward the other boy. I grinned as they embraced and glanced away, to find the neighbor curiously watching the two of them. I swore internally. Damn. Neighbor man, kids or no kids, made three I didn't call! Whatever happened to effeminate men who pranced and wore more make up than me?

"Need some help?" the neighbor offered, touching my arm. I jumped. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to startled you."

"No, that's okay," I lied trying to suppress the heat in my face. "I mean, sure. The more hands, the merrier and all."

"Good," he grinned at me and I shoved down the butterflies. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. He jutted his hand out. "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Joey."

"Hi," I shook his hand. "Rebecca, but you can call me Bec. Everyone else in my life does."

"Hmm, I don't know that I want to be like everyone else in your life, Rebecca," he teased, winking again and jogging to help the other two unload the truck. I frowned, confused.

"Come on, Lazy! This is your stuff we're moving!" Eric taunted. I pushed my confusion down with the butterflies and everything else, and jogged up to the truck. Even with just the extra set of hands, it took the better part of the afternoon unloading my furniture and things out of the U-Haul and into the two bedroom duplex.

It was growing dark when the truck was finally empty and the four of us sat around my kitchen table, sharing pizza, beers, and stories. Joey shared how he worked for the electric company. Eric nudged me hard in the ribs.

"See, Bec! If his kids ever needing patching up, you can do it, and if you ever find yourself without light, Joey can come to your rescue," Eric nudged me again. I shot him a look. It was bad enough I'd be living next to a man who sometimes had kids, but for him to think that he could just bring them over for every bump and bruise would be unbearable.

"I should get going," Joey stood after a time. He thanked me for the pizza, without the offer of us doing it again sometime, and I knew I had to be right.

"He's got it bad for you," Eric teased. I looked at him like he'd grown another head. Aaron laughed.

"I think I'd be barking up the wrong tree on that one, Eric," I pointed out. Eric joined in Aaron's laughter.

"You sure you're not blond under that hair?" Eric choked out, brushing my hair out of my face. I slapped his hand away. I was already hating the fact that the stylist had given me bangs at Eric's suggestion, but then to suggest I had blond roots.

"Trust me when tell you, that man is all man," Aaron gave me that knowing look and I snorted, which sent Eric into a giggle-tizzy.

"Did you SNORT?" Eric gasped.

"Okay, sweetheart, you've had enough of this cheap, vile beer," Aaron murmured taking the nearly empty bottle and draining it in the sink. "We'll be back in the morning to get his truck... when he sobers up."

"Okay," I nodded, walking them both out to the porch. I stood under the wooden overhang, waving as Aaron helped Eric into the U-Haul and the two of them drove off.

"Nice friends," a voice said in the dark and I jumped, nearly clear off the porch. "Oh, man. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Were you there the whole time?" I asked trying to quell the panic that had my heart jumping up into my throat.

"Yeah, my side of the porch," he nodded. I could only just make him out in the glow of a match. He lit a few citronella candles before he lit a cigarette. "Trying to quit. Still trying."

"Ah," I didn't know what to say.

"You can borrow a chair and take a seat," he offered. I took a seat, not really sure if he meant for me to drag it back to my side of the porch.

"Thank you," I murmured as he pushed one of the candles closer.

"The bugs are pretty bad at night," he explained. He was quiet spoken in the dark, and we just sat there, not saying anything. After a while, he put out his cigarette.

"Well, I should go in," I mumbled. "I have work in the morning."

"Me, too, sort of... late morning," he stood and began blowing out the candles, one by one until the yellow, pungent light was extinguished and we stood in the dark.

"It was nice meeting you, Joey," I offered as I headed away from his door and towards mine.

"You, too, Bec," he tossed back, pausing only to wait until I went inside before he, too entered his side of the duplex.