Chapter Seven

Addie

It's been a few days since I spoke with my mysterious new neighbor. Yesterday I went out to gather wood and saw him in the back yard of his place, walking around with sweats and a hoodie on while talking on the phone and pacing the yard. I tried to duck down out of view when I saw him out the phone down and take off his shirt, then his pants to get into the hot tub on the patio. The actual back of the house is only about 30 or 40 yards away. It's a clear view with no leaves on the trees. And that means he can see me just as well as I can see him.

Oh. My. God. His entire torso is covered in tattoos. And both arms. He's not a small man, and he looks like he could crush a skull with his bare hands. I watch as he eases his body down into the tub, closing his eyes as the steam blocks my view for moment. I think about what his eyes would look like if he were to feel any other kind of pleasure.

"What in the perfect timing of the year is going on out here?" Beck calls as she sees what I am staring at.

"Get down, I don't want him to see me ogling him." I motion to the ground and crouch lower.

"Who cares if he sees?"

"Me!" I say as I grab the wood and run into the house. Beck takes her time coming in after another long stare of appreciation.

"Listen, Addie. I'm no moral compass but I have to tell you, jump on that man and don't get up until you need medical help."

I roll my eyes. "He's a nice person. I am having dinner with him tomorrow night and now that image is going to be in my head."

Beck looks at me and an O forms on her mouth. "You're having WHAT?"

"Dinner," I say. "He asked me to have dinner with him. It's not a date. He just wants someone familiar with the town to show him around."

Her shock takes a moment to cease before she answers with her typical reply. "He wants you to show him your downtown, that's for sure."

I shake my head. "No. That's not it. And YOU need to get laid. Not me."

She scoffs and smiles.

"I have Sam, the karaoke boy toy. I don't need to get laid. I need to live vicariously through you so I can imagine getting laid by that Italian hunk of a man." She walks to my closet room. I follow wondering what she's up to now.

"What are you wearing for this not a date, date?" She asks as she looks over the dresses I have hanging up.

"I was just going to wear jeans and a sweater or something." I shrug and look around.

"Oh hell no. No. You are going to look hot as shit and I'm going to help you."

"Beck, that is really unnecessary."

"Oh bullshit. Let's see what you have in here."

After an hour of searching and trying on dresses, she settles on a long-sleeved, black, body con Banana Republic dress with a boat neck and a backless silhouette. The entire back is open and I feel naked. I bought it for my cousin's wedding and ended up not even going because of my depression at the time. A week later I was diagnosed and put on medication for it. A week later after I attempted to end my life.

So, I try it on again and she insists it's the "one". I am exhausted and not willing to keep the fight going so I agree, and let her pick out my shoes,too and my earrings and then politely tell her I want to go to bed.

"Fine. But I want all details and if you don't call me after, I will drive the 20 minutes it takes to get to your house in 10 minutes and kick in your door." She smiles, kisses my forehead and leaves. What a lady.

I fall asleep less than 5 minutes after I hit the pillow. I am beat. I haven't gotten ready for a date in over ten years.