The Neighbor Next Door Read online

  “I don’t know what your problem is, Mom! You've been trying to get me to lose my virginity for years, telling me to -” I say, using my fingers to make air quotations marks, “- get it over with.” Vivian stares at me in shock. “So I got it over with! I let the ex-con next door sweet talk me into fucking me. I’m happy about it. Why shouldn’t you be?” I throw at her. “It’s my body after all.”

  Vivian is dumbfounded and I use this opportunity to escape her awful company, running up the stairs to lock myself in my room.

  Sitting on my bed, breathing hard, I can still feel the effect of Trent’s enormous, hard cock pushing into my virginal pussy. It’s sore, and I have to shift my weight a bit to get comfortable. But even though I’m bruised and hurting down there, I can’t bring myself to regret any of it. I can't bring myself to hate him. Actually, I can’t even bring myself to believe my mom’s accusations. After all, why should I just take Vivian’s word? If it’s true, I want to hear it from his own mouth. I want to give Trent the chance to tell his side of the story. After all, there are many angles to a situation like this … and I want to hear the words from the man himself.

  13

  Trent

  I wait for a good hour before I start heading back home. Because shit. This is a clusterfuck for sure. What the hell was Vivian doing in the nature reserve? I’ve never seen her wear anything but high heels, mini-skirts and tight yoga outfits. She must have followed us here and waited in the forest for an opportune moment. I could kick myself for not taking Janie’s earlier sighting seriously. She said she saw something fluorescent orange flashing in the forest, and it had to be her mom stalking us.

  Fuck this shit. I have absolutely no desire to run into that screeching madwoman again, even if her accusations are technically true. I look down at the moss where only just a little while ago, I took Janie’s virginity. It already seems like ages ago now. Her little backpack lays on the ground, where she forgot it. I pick it up, intending to bring it back with me, although I have no idea how I’m gonna get it back to her. Should I drop it by her front door? Apologize? She’ll never accept it. And why should she? I’d kept secrets from her, and it was her right to hate me.

  Because the way Janie’s face had dropped when she heard her mother scream those words breaks my heart. It’s not like I was never going to fess up. I was just waiting for the right time. I guess before we actually had sex would have been better, but the urge was so fucking strong. I needed the woman desperately, and words just got in the way.

  So it’s my fault. There’s no doubt I’ve lost Janie now, and it’s all because I was too cowardly to tell the truth. Fuck my life.

  It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. This one phrase echoes through my mind the whole drive home, the rain only mirroring how miserable I feel. It starts as a drizzle, but by the time I finally pull into my driveway, it’s like a monsoon. It’s a real Iowa summer shower as thunder bangs over my head. Seems appropriate. My past has finally caught up with me, and the future’s now crashing down around my ears.

  As I get out of my car, I don’t even bother to hurry into my house or protect myself in any way from the downpour. Immediately, I’m drenched to the core, my t-shirt sticking to my ribs, black hair dripping over my brow. The only thing I care about protecting is Janie’s tiny backpack, which I hold curled into the crook of my elbow as I fish my keys out of my pocket with my other hand. But as I enter the house, wet footsteps sound behind me and I turn around. My heart drops because it’s Janie, her long curly hair pasted to her skin, clothes sticking to her gorgeous, curvy body. The body that, for a brief moment, was mine.

  Janie looks as miserable as I feel. I hold out her little backpack to her.

  “You forgot something,” is my rough growl. She takes the bag from my hand without looking at it, not caring if it gets wet. “Go home to your mother, Janie, you’re drenched,” I rasp, but she doesn’t move. The brunette’s staring at me intently, her big beautiful eyes full of hurt, blinking the rain out of her vision.

  “Is it true?” she asks in a small voice, barely audible over the din of the downpour. At this point, there’s nothing left to hide, so I nod. Her plump lips pinch together in disappointment. “How much of it?” she asks. “Fifty percent? Twenty-five? A hundred?”

  I sigh heavily, raindrops trickling down my massive chest.

  “All of it,” I say honestly. “Except one part. I didn’t rape her. She consented. But she lied about her age, and told me she was eighteen while she was actually seventeen and ten months. She asked me to come back to her parents’ place, and she wanted me to – no, begged me to do her on the dining room table.”

  Janie’s face is shuttered, but at least she’s listening. So I continue. “But her parents came home and you can imagine what happened next. Even though the girl said she wanted it, her parents pressed charges and won. Luckily I had a clean record and got only three months in the slammer. I consider myself blessed in some small way, believe it or not.”

  Janie doesn’t say anything, but just stands looking at me, her eyes still shuttered. The rain pours down those curves. “Please, Janie, come in out of the rain,” I begin, holding the door open to my own house. Woodenly, the beautiful brunette steps inside.

  I close the door. The sudden silence after the crazy downpour outside is deafening. We both stand drenched in the hall, making pools of water on the tiles. I reach forward gently and wipe her hair out of her eyes. She lets me, which gives me hope.

  “I’m not a rapist, Janie. I’d never hurt you, or anyone else.” I lower my hand to her face, caressing her wet cheek gently with the back of my fingers. She swallows hard, wrestling with the new knowledge she’s gained over the last couple of hours.

  “You should have told me,” she says rigidly, looking up into my eyes, which I close in shame. “I had a right to know.”

  “You’re right. I should have told you. And I tried to, last week, when we were lying on the couch but - I couldn’t - I was scared you’d think badly of me.”

  Janie shakes her head, and takes a deep breath.

  “I get it. Sort of. Because actually, I only turned eighteen myself a few months ago, so it could have been us. But the thing is, why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?” she pleads. “If you’d been honest upfront, this would have been so much easier.”

  I nod, feeling like absolute shit.

  “I know, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

  She takes a deep breath before tilting her chin.

  “Well, I don’t think I want that,” she says in a slow voice. Hope springs anew in my chest.

  “Do you mean it, sweetheart? Can you forgive me?” comes my low, desperate voice. She smiles a little, which starts a fire deep in my core.

  “On one condition,” she says.

  “Anything,” I answer, cupping my hand behind her neck, pulling her closer as she looks up at me.

  “Never lie to me again, okay?” she asks, looking deep into my eyes. “I mean it Trent. This was a close call, and I’ve thought long and hard about what happened. You need to tell me these things as soon as they happen, otherwise it’s just not right. Do you hear?”

  I close my eyes in reverence and open them again, looking deep into her caramel eyes.

  “Yes, absolutely,” I say, and then pull her up and into my arms, kissing her like I’ve never kissed a woman before, sealing my promise and swearing to myself never to do anything to lose her again.

  The kiss is interrupted by Janie’s sudden and violent shiver and I remember we’re both still drenched to the core.

  “Oh my god, we’re both totally wet!” she exclaims through chattering teeth, looking down as if seeing our sodden forms for the first time. I grin.

  “First things first, honey. You’re taking a nice hot shower upstairs,” I growl into her ear, sweeping her into my arms and ascending the steps. “I have some nice dry clothes you can put on. And then you can tell me what you’d lik
e to do.”

  I’m tempted to jump in the shower with the brunette because one glance at her soapy body makes me rock hard. But I tell myself there will be plenty of time for that. Because it’s a godsend that this beautiful, innocent young girl cares enough to give me a chance at redemption. I simply rub my body dry with a towel and throw on some dry clothes.

  Janie steps out of the bathroom, showered and wearing an oversized plaid shirt that practically hangs to her knees. I can’t hide my smile. I want to see her like this more, clean and damp, her curvy form dressed in my clothes.

  “You look beautiful,” I say softly. She blushes but then that expression goes serious.

  “What now?” is her soft inquiry. I sigh. Because the hard part’s here.

  “That’s up to you, baby,” I say. “She’s your mother. It has to be your decision. I’ll stand by anything you choose.” And as hope flutters in my chest, a look of determination comes over my beautiful girl’s face. Because Janie’s brave. Whereas I’m a coward, my gorgeous brunette has enough courage to face the lions … and I know she won’t let me down.

  14

  Janie

  Trent holds a giant umbrella over my head as we walk from his driveway to Vivian’s house. I’ve always wanted to confront her with my real feelings. Because my mom loves me in her own way, yes. But she’s never accepted me for who I am. She’s never been supportive of my desire to cook for a living, nor my desire to approach life at my own pace.

  But most of all, I hate how she treats herself. I hate that Vivian’s always fretting over some guy or another, and feeling like she needs to stay young and beautiful forever. That’s pretty much a losing proposition, I guarantee you. Life will catch up with you no matter what, and it should be a privilege to age. But unfortunately, the blonde doesn’t see it that way what with her multiple marriages and divorces.

  “Mom?” I call as I step through the front door, Trent just a few feet behind me. His presence is solid and comforting. As if on cue, Vivian comes out of the living room, her face a mask of malice.

  “Oh my god!” she shrieks. “What are you doing with him still? I’m calling the police!”

  “You can do that if you want, Mom, but there’s nothing they can get him for because he hasn't done anything wrong.”

  Vivian starts protesting, but I cut her off. “He didn’t rape me. I wanted him to take my virginity. I want him, and it’s one hundred percent consensual. Plus, I'm an adult in every respect.”

  Vivian’s mouth is a thin line of rage and disappointment.

  “He’s an ex-con, Janie. How can you want him? Of the billions of guys in the world, you have to pick him? Really? You can’t do better?”

  Hurt burns in my heart at her insult, but I make myself stay calm. Trent stands behind my like a supportive wall of cement, ready to back me up.

  “Yes, I want him Vivian. And he’s not just him. He’s Trent. Besides, Trent’s paid the price. He got three months for sleeping with a minor who lied about her age, and in some way, he’s the victim here.”

  Vivian’s face twists in a mask of rage and disgust.

  “I see he’s brainwashed you as well, my dear daughter. You think he’s the victim? What kind of crazy Stockholm syndrome is that? Please, Janie, wise up! He’s got you dick-whipped and wrapped around his little finger. Get a brain!”

  The harsh words feel sting and burn, but I make myself take a deep breath and keep calm even though my heart’s beating like a drum.

  “No, this isn’t some brain-washing situation, Vivian. Again, I’m an adult and I know what I want. And I want him.”

  Vivian changes tactics then.

  “He’ll leave you. You can’t trust him. I’ve seen him looking at me,” she hisses maliciously. “He doesn’t want you, Janie, when he can get a piece of ass like myself.”

  I inhale, hurt to the quick. But there’s no time to react because Trent speaks then in a deep voice.

  “That’s a lie, Vivian, and you know it. Why don't you tell your daughter the real truth?” I glance from Trent to Vivian, suddenly puzzled. The truth? What’s that?

  “What’s he talking about, Mom?” I ask Vivian. But she doesn't answer, instead folding her thin arms in defiance.

  “You can’t trust a word he says,” she announces defiantly. “He’s a creep, Janie,” she says to me. “One hundred percent creep-tastic, and with a criminal record to boot.”

  “You’re lying,” growls Trent from behind me. “You’ve been putting the moves on me since I moved in, never taking no for an answer.”

  What? My mouth falls open.

  “And knowing that I’m in love with your daughter was just too much, wasn’t it? You just couldn’t have it,” he adds.

  I’m stock still with surprise at this series of declarations. One, that my mom was putting the moves on Trent. Really really? But it makes some sick sort of sense because Vivian’s desperate for affirmation from any and all men. So yeah, I can see her coming onto Trent real strong.

  But the statement that takes my breath away is Trent’s proclamation that he’s in love with me. Love? As in true love? Butterflies rise up in my stomach, despite the tenseness of the moment.

  I watch Vivian’s reaction. She freezes, then barks rudely, “That’s a filthy lie, you fucking liar!” But I don't believe her anymore.

  Plus, Trent has some ammunition that he hasn’t used.

  “You’ve been watching me from your window, Vivian. Just about every night. I know you’re doing it, you’re not exactly subtle. And the worst part is that I saw you pleasuring yourself while I was in the pool last week,” he says with disgust. “It was gross. I got out of the pool as soon as I realized you were spying on me.”

  That throws Vivian into a rage.

  “You were the one masturbating in your pool!” she shrieks, but he remains calm. “I was on my own property, with a fence around the yard. What I do on my land is my business. But the minute I saw you peeping at me from your bedroom window, I beat feet inside and I haven’t been in the pool since.”

  I turn to gape at my mom with dawning realization. Holy shit! I remember that night because I’d been watching Trent as well. And slowly, the memory comes back. There were moans that night, and I’d automatically assumed it was Vivian having sex with her ex-husband. But actually, she’d been lusting after Trent? Holy fuck.

  The shock and disgust are too much. My own mom and I were lusting after the same guy. I need to get out of here.

  “That’s enough,” I say in short voice before shooting daggers at Vivian. “Stop it. I heard you that night as well, but I thought it was you and Chris.”

  But Vivian’s not even ashamed, and only grows more furious.

  “How dare you speak to me like that? What do you know, you ungrateful child?” she screams. But I stay calm, continuing as if she never interrupted me.

  “I’m tired of being around such a toxic environment. I’m tired of seeing you throw yourself at men in desperation. Your need for male affirmation is unreal, and you need to see a therapist.”

  Vivian’s so angry now that her face is bright red. But she can’t manage any words, her mouth merely opening and closing like a dying fish.

  So I go for the final blow then.

  “And by the way, I’m moving out. Trent and I will be living together, although it’s none of your business.”

  That’s it. Vivian’s voice comes back then and she screams at the top of her lungs.

  “He’ll leave you! He’s lying about loving you - how could anyone love a fat, useless lump like you?” she hurls. Even though my mom’s said things like this to me before, it still hurts. Only now, I have Trent to prove her wrong. I gather up all my courage and look my mother in the eye.

  “Goodbye Vivian,” is my steady voice. And as I walk down the driveway without any belongings, there’s only a sense of freedom. Because I’m leaving behind the old, and walking towards my future with the man I love at my side.

  “Are you okay?” asks Tren
t as we drive to a nearby hotel to spend the night. After all, we want to move in together, but not next door to my mom. That’d be like living next to a toxic dump. A fresh start is needed.

  “Yes,” I say, swallowing hard. Despite my hurt at breaking ties with Vivian, she’s still my mom. But I have to move forwards with life. “I did the right thing,” are my slow words. “I’ve always dreamed of leaving and finally cutting her negativity out of my day to day interactions. And you’ve given me the chance to do it,” I add on a deep, indrawn breath.

  Trent suddenly pulls the car over to the side of the road and parks on the shoulder, ignoring the vehicles that roar past. He turns to me and I see that something in his eyes that I saw even on our first afternoon together. Once upon a time, I couldn’t put my finger on it because I was an inexperienced virgin who didn’t know the ways of men. But now I know without a doubt what’s reflected in those azure depths: love. Because the man’s in love with me, and I love him in return as well.

  Trent takes my hand and kisses it, closing his eyes in reverence.

  “For as long as I live, Janie, I will never let anything or anyone hurt you. It’s you and me against the world, okay kiddo?” he says, sealing my overwhelming sense of contentment. And no further words need to be said because the world is our oyster. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment longer, with a sense of each other’s souls before driving off into a wondrous world that unfolds with colors, shapes, and sounds that never existed before.

  Because who knew this could happen? Trent was a hardened ex-con, wary about falling in love and carefully guarding his heart. I was a sweet teen living next door, inexperienced but willing to risk it all. And despite the challenges we faced, somehow it all worked out. Because maybe ChatWorld and sexting opened the doors to a relationship, but our feelings for one another are all too real. And with this man by my side … I can’t wait to enter the next chapter of my life.