I’m not disappointed.
She steps out of the door with Josh in tow. He’s leaning close, staring at her. Smiling easily. Checking her out. Shit. He’s flirting with her. I know his moves and I know when he’s interested in someone. I notice him blatantly checking out her rack, and then pretending to cough into his folded fist. I roll my eyes in irritation.
I can’t blame him. Nor has the most amazing tits I’ve ever seen on a girl. I lick my lips, my throat suddenly parched and bang my head on the wall twice to get my thoughts in line. If Mom got wind of my thoughts, she’d glare in disapproval that I forgot my manners. But Jesus. . .my eyes couldn’t stop gawking at her bra and the soft rise of her boobs.
Nor laughs at something Josh says. If there was a time I’d have wished to be able to hear a sound, it would be now. I would have sold my soul to the devil to hear her voice. Her laughter. I settle for watching her speak to Josh. The way she slants her head to the side as she listens to him, giving him all her attention. I stare transfixed at how her hair falls over her eyes, and then her hand, fragile and small, sweeps it off her face.
My eyes take in her little, hot body. She can’t be more than five feet tall.
The breeze sweeps the yellow dress she’s wearing, tangling it around her hips and ass, framing her curves.
Holy. Shit.
New neighbor boner alert.
I’ve never met a girl like her before. She makes me feel both guarded and aroused at the same time.
My gaze drifts to her arms as she lifts them up above her head in a stretch.
I can’t get those white scars I spotted out of my head. She didn’t seem self-conscience about them until she saw me staring at her arms like a fool. The look she sent me froze me in place. It was fierce and challenging, especially the defiant lift of her chin. It has been a while since a girl got that reaction out of me.
I didn’t have anything to say, though. My brain had been trying to understand what I’d seen. I’ve never met anyone who harmed themselves. What would make her hurt herself?
Josh says something to Nor, wearing a stupid grin on his face. I want to grab it and rip it from his face. She smiles at him, that little dimple I noticed before on her right cheek making an appearance. She pushes the hair off her face and quickly slaps her skirt down when a stronger breeze blows it up.
Jesus. I’m jealous of my brother. Jealous of the breeze. I wish I was the wind so I can have the pleasure of touching her. Ripple gently on her skin.
Touch her? Where the hell did that come from? I have known her for all of three minutes and now I’m having all these thoughts about touching her invading my brain. I need to get a grip on whatever this is.
Shoving those thoughts away, I sigh and rub my forehead with my palm. I saw the fascinated look on her face when Josh turned to sign to me, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I’m not about to assume she’s interested in me. I’ve been down that road before. Made fun of because of my ‘weird voice’—whatever that means—and gotten burned. It didn’t stop me from speaking, but I swore if I ever got involved with a girl, I’d make sure she accepted me with all my faults. I’m not about to get involved with this girl or any other girl for that matter.
Stepping away from the window, I walk over to my desk. On top of it sits my sketch book, trace paper, pens and pencils, and scales. The latter was a birthday gift from my parents when I turned seventeen last year.
I drag out the chair and sit down and flip through the pages of my sketchbook until I find my current project. I want to show it to my dad, but need to attempt a few final touches before it’s ready. I have been drawing for as long as I can remember. Two years ago, I took a five week drafting course during summer, which was being offered at Eastern Lake University to students who wanted to pursue a Bachelor in Architecture program.
My dad is my mentor. He has been working and encouraging me since he realized where my passion lies and that I had a talent for drawing when I was ten. And to motivate me, my father has been using my sketches—after making improvements on them—to send out proposals to real estate developers. This gave me more confidence and made me believe that my work wasn’t bad at all.
I blink at my current project—a four story town house—in front of me and blow air through my mouth. It has a long way to go before it’s done.
I close my eyes and all I can see are the green eyes and red hair of the new girl next door. Opening my eyes, I toss the pencil on the desk and yank the beanie from my head. I run my fingers through my hair, frustration knotting inside my chest like an angry beast.
Two hours ago, this girl didn’t exist in my life. Not even as a figment of my imagination.