Boyfriends Next Door: A Contemporary Reverse Harem Romance (Boys Next Door, Book 2) Read online

  “I know.”

  Zane stops walking. “Wait a sec. You like her?”

  Aidan’s eyes sweep over to me for half a second before he yanks them away. “No, I don’t like her.”

  “You okay, Lia?” Caleb asks.

  I glance up and find all three of them staring at me. “I’m fine. I just miss Sophie.” I puff up my cheeks. “I guess I need to accept that she’s moved on.”

  “Look, Lia,” Zane says. “I’m sorry for what I said to her the other day. I just hate that she ditched you.”

  Shrugging, I open my locker. “She has the right to be friends with whoever she wants. Besides, I haven’t been the best company these past few months.”

  “Then it’s her loss,” Zane says. “If she’s moved on, it might be a good idea for you to move on, too.”

  He’s right. But it’s not so easy. Sophie and I have been best friends forever, been through the ups and downs of our young life. I can’t just forget her.

  ***

  “Hey,” a voice calls in the distance. “What are you up to?”

  I lift my head from my laptop, my eyes darting to my bedroom window. The blinds are raised, since I no longer have a need to constantly keep them lowered. I like peeking into Zane’s room, and I’m sure he feels the same. I can’t forget how he almost kissed me. I think about it a lot, specifically how I hurt him. He told me he understood, but I still feel bad about rejecting him.

  Would I want to kiss him? Being so close and vulnerable to any guy freaks me out, but maybe it won’t forever. Maybe I can have a boyfriend again. One day. Would it be Zane?

  “Amelia?”

  He’s sitting in his window, legs dangling outside, sketchpad on his lap. A small smile breaks out on my face. “Do you ever get bored of that?” I ask.

  “Bored of what?”

  “Sitting in your window and drawing.”

  His gaze drops to his opened sketchpad. “Nah. It’s the only thing I want to do. And talk to you, of course.” He winks. His pencil continues to dance across the page.

  I can’t make out what’s on there, but it looks like a face. Is he…drawing me again? It’s funny how I found it weird only a few days ago. Now, I kind of want him to draw me.

  “One sec.” I rummage in my drawers before plucking out the present he gave me two days ago.

  Grabbing onto one side of my window, I climb out and place the sketchpad on my lap. Crap. I forgot pencils.

  Zane’s eyes bug out. “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting in my window and drawing. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. Toss me one of your pencils.”

  He launches one and I catch it like a pro. Zane chuckles. “Aidan would be proud of that. What are you drawing?”

  I shrug as I poise the pencil. “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Isn’t that what you requested? I mean, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I figure it’ll be fun.” I shoot him a smile.

  He returns a large one. “You know you’ve got a beautiful smile?”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks. Zane chuckles softly, his pencil making gentle strokes while his other hand pushes some dark hair out of his eyes. For a second, I wonder if his hair feels as smooth and shiny as it looks, but I shove the thought away. My face feels even warmer than before.

  He lifts his head. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I quickly say.

  He laughs again. “Studying me to get all the details down, huh?”

  “Yeah. Totally.”

  We’re quiet, the only sounds coming from the wind outside. It’s October and a little chilly, but it doesn’t bother me, and it seems not to bother Zane, either. He looks completely in his element, comfortable and at ease. All the pain he carries in his eyes vanishes as he puts his entire being into his art.

  “As much as I love you staring at me,” he says, his focus on his drawing, “it’s kind of making me a little uncomfy.”

  “Sorry. How do you draw me, then?”

  “Got it all memorized up in here.” He taps the right side of his head while his left hand continues to draw.

  “You memorized me?”

  His pencil freezes as he slowly raises his eyes to mine. “Is that bad?”

  “No,” I find myself saying. On any other day, this would scare the hell out of me. But it’s different with Zane.

  He shoots me another smile. “Good.”

  We’re quiet again, each of us focused on our drawings. I’m a complete newbie, and have no idea what I’m doing. His hair is coming out all wrong, and his eyes are a bit ridiculous and uneven. Zane makes it seem so easy, so effortless.

  “I seriously have no idea what I’m doing,” I complain.

  His head rises, eyebrows furrow. “Let me have a look.”

  I hesitate.

  He chuckles softly. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, Amelia. Trust me.”

  I curl the edges of the sketchpad, biting my lip. I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal about it. It’s just a drawing. “Fine.” I launch it at him, my aim so off it slaps him in the face before going splat on the ground. “Damn.”

  He laughs again. “You’re a good catcher, but you suck at pitching. Only teasing. Stay put, I’ll get it.”

  “No, that’s okay. Keep drawing. I’ll get it.”

  I slide into my room and go down the stairs, out the house, and around the side, to the space between my house and the Armstrongs’. Glancing up, I catch Zane’s legs sticking out of the window. He kicks them against the wall, most definitely focusing on his drawing.

  “Hey,” he calls. “Found it?”

  I sweep my poor, slightly damaged sketchpad off the ground and hold it up. “Yep. It’s still in pretty good shape, just some pages are torn.”

  “No biggie. I’ll get you a new one.”

  I open my mouth to argue, when a voice calls from inside my neighbors’ house. “Lia?” It’s coming from the kitchen, where Caleb’s chopping vegetables.

  I step closer to the window. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he says. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Zane.” I hold up the pad. “I accidentally dropped this. Are you working on dinner?”

  He nods. “I’m hoping my aunt has good news, so I’m making this feast for good luck. And she probably ate nothing all day, being all nervous.”

  I smile at how thoughtful he is. “She hasn’t come home yet?”

  He shakes his head. “Fingers are still crossed.”

  “So are mine.”

  His smile is sweet and warm. He dumps some vegetables into a boiling pot on the stove. “Want to help with dessert? There’s a new cheesecake recipe I’ve been trying to perfect.”

  I’m about to tell him I’d love to, when Zane calls from outside. “Lia? You there?”

  Caleb frowns. “Maybe another time, then,” he says.

  “Sure, I’d love that.”

  He gives me another smile. “Great. See you later.”

  I turn to leave, then face him again. “Are you doing okay?”

  He still holds that grin, though I note the worry in his eyes. “I’m doing fine. I still hate that he’s out there hurting people and wish I could do something about it.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  He shakes his head, as though tossing his thoughts away. “It’s fine. Have a good night and sweet dreams.”

  “Same to you.” I shift from one foot to the other, wanting to say something else to him, but not knowing what. What can I say to make him feel better? Nothing, because he’s the only one who can determine how he feels. All I can do is be his friend.

  “Caleb.”

  He looks up from mixing the pot.

  “It smells amazing. You really are going to be an amazing chef one day.”

  His face reddens slightly. I wave and make my way toward my house. Dad’s on the living room sofa, watching the news. Ever since Josh got out of juvie three days ago, he’s been glued to the TV. It’s like he’s waiting for my ex to slip
up and be sent back to juvie. Josh may be an ass, but he’s not stupid enough to slip up. I wish he would, though. That guy should be locked up for the rest of his life.

  “Sweetie.” Dad knocks me out of my thoughts. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “How long are you going to watch the news like that?”

  He runs his hand through his hair. “I just worry. I know you told me you’re fine, but that’s not going to stop me.”

  I grab a banana and peel it. “Dad, you can’t go around worrying all the time. He lives in this tiny town. Chances are we’re going to run into each other. I need to be strong and I need you to be strong, too. Besides, he won’t dare start anything with me as long as I have the restraining order.”

  The truth is, I’m reassuring him. That’s all. Because Josh could very well violate the restraining order. Or he’ll send his friends after me. Of course I’m a little terrified, but I need to be strong. I won’t live in fear anymore.

  Dad stands and lightly presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know I’m being a bit overbearing. But I lost your mother and I can’t bear anything happening to you.”

  I squeeze his arm. “I’ll be fine. Promise. I won’t go out at night, I’ll pay attention to my surroundings. Can’t we go back to how things used to be?”

  He slowly nods as he thinks it over. “I’ll try.”

  “And maybe…” I waver. “And maybe we can try to be happy again? Mom would want us to. She’d want us to have fun.”

  Pain flashes in his eyes before they start to tear up a bit. “You’re right.” His voice is low. “I’ll try, sweetie.” He kisses my forehead again. Then his gaze dips to the sketchpad. “What’s that?”

  “Zane got it for me. I’m trying to draw. He said it helps with…that it can help with everything that’s happened.”

  Dad’s smile is small. “Those boys are very nice and I see you’re getting very friendly with them.”

  I play with the pad. “Well, yeah. I mean we’re neighbors.”

  “You know, sweetie, if you ever want to talk about boys or if you’re ever confused…I know this was your mother’s department, but I’m sure we can…” His voice trails off as his eyebrows knit.

  This is a little too embarrassing. Is Dad trying to have “the talk” with me?

  “I know. Thanks. But I’m okay. And you don’t have to worry about boys. It’ll be a long, long, long time until I’m ready to date again.” I shrug. “Probably until I’m thirty.”

  As the words leave my mouth, I can’t help remembering Zane bending close, of his lips sweeping across my cheek. My stomach does this weird flip. He wanted to kiss me, and the only reason that didn’t happen was because I didn’t allow it. As much as I keep telling myself I’m not ready for a boyfriend, my heart is trying to convince me otherwise.

  Dad laughs. “I’m sure it’ll be sooner than that. But like I said, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

  I thank him before leaving the living room and climbing the stairs to mine. Zane is still in his window and his entire face brightens like the sun shines behind his eyes.

  “Hey,” he says. “Everything okay?”

  I shrug as I climb into my window with my sketchpad and the pencil Zane gave me. “Yeah. My dad was trying to have ‘the talk’ with me.”

  Zane’s pencil freezes on the paper. “What?”

  “I told him there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not at all ready to date, not for a really long time.”

  “Right.” He clears his throat, stretching his pencil toward the end of the paper, accidentally creating a large mark that cuts through my face. Then he curses.

  “Can’t you fix it?” I ask.

  He glances up. “I guess. It’ll never be the same, though.” His gaze lowers to the drawing, then back to me. “I’m heading out.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  He pulls himself into his room, tucking his sketchpad under his arm as he makes his way toward the door. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Giving me a wide smile, he shuts the door behind him.

  I stare into his room. Did he run off because of what I said?

  Chapter Six

  Caleb

  I assured Lia I’m okay, and the truth is I am, but a part of me will never truly be okay until my dad is behind bars. Telling her my secret has lifted a load off my shoulders. Aidan was right that we could trust her, and now that she knows the truth, my trust in her has magnified by a million. She’s my best friend now—other than the guys—and I feel like I can tell her anything.

  “It smells amazing.” Her words ring in my head, causing me to smile. “You really are going to be an amazing chef one day.”

  On Saturday when we watched the movie, I confided in her and Zane that I worried no one would take me seriously as a chef because I’m the son of a notorious murderer. But as I stand here bent over the stove with Lia’s words on repeat, I’m more determined than ever to prove them wrong. To follow my dream. I am not my father. We might look similar and we might share a love for magic, but that’s where our similarities end. I’ll make something of my life. He might have been a terrible person, but my dad was a good father. If I have kids one day, I’ll strive to be the best father I could be.

  Lia’s face flashes before my eyes and my entire body heats up. What the hell? Am I picturing Lia as…? No, that’s crazy. The soup nearly boils over because my thoughts have traveled somewhere they shouldn’t be traveling to.

  Keys jingle from outside, yanking me from my thoughts. The door opens and Julia enters. My feet move before I can control them and I’m pretty much bombarding her, wanting to know how the interview went.

  Craig, who was working in his office, exits to hear the good news as well. Zane left the house about ten minutes ago. He seemed bothered about something and wouldn’t answer me when I questioned him about it. Aidan’s peeking over the railing of the stairs.

  Julia wears a poker face as she heads to the kitchen. Craig and I exchange a glance before following her inside. Aidan joins, too. Julia drops her bag on a chair before flopping down on another.

  Craig lowers himself next to her, taking her hand. He stares at her with nothing but love in his eyes. When I was little, before my mom died, I used to love the way my father looked at my mom. It was like she was his world, like nothing else—other than me—mattered to him. Sometimes I wonder if that man is still buried inside the monster, but like Zane claimed, the real Maxwell doesn’t exist.

  I wonder if I’ll ever look at a girl that way. I wonder if she’ll look at me the same. My eyes squeeze shut before a certain girl next door attacks my mind again.

  “Honey,” Craig says, sandwiching her hand between both of his. “How did it go?”

  Her poker face starts to crumble. With a squeal, she says, “I don’t know how it happened, but I got the job! They just called me as I pulled into the driveway.” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand. I thought I made a complete fool of myself. They asked me questions I couldn’t answer. I was certain they wouldn’t hire me.”

  Craig pulls her into his arms. “That’s amazing, Julia!”

  “They said they were impressed with me out of all the candidates,” she says, her voice filled with disbelief. “I have no idea why they accepted me.”

  “Because you’re a great person and a hard worker,” I tell her.

  Smiling, she squeezes my arm. “Thank you, Caleb.” She sniffs. “Something smells delicious.”

  Aidan gestures toward me. “He cooked this huge meal in your honor.”

  She squeezes my arm some more, a proud and grateful smile on her face. “You didn’t have to do that, Caleb, but thank you. I’m starving.” She glances around. “Where’s Zane?”

  Aidan shrugs. “Out. He’ll be back soon. What job did you get, anyway?”

  “Insurance.” She stands and reaches for her bag. “I’m going to change out of this suit. Someone text Zane and tell him to come home for dinner.” She exchanges a glance with Craig, and something
tells me it has nothing to do with her job.

  I turn to Aidan, but he’s too busy texting to pay attention. My curiosity gets the better of me and I follow my aunt and uncle toward their bedroom. I know spying is wrong, but I have a feeling this is important.

  Their bedroom door is shut, but I can hear their muffled voices. I can’t make them out, though. Pressing my ear to the door does no good. I do manage to hear my name, but I’m pretty sure Aidan and Zane’s names are mentioned as well.

  I need to stop obsessing. Not everything in our lives revolves around my dad.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jump. Aidan stands there, thumb tapping on his phone. He barely glances up. Out of all three of us, he’s always been the most popular, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s constantly texting. Probably his old friends. I know he still misses them.

  “Nothing,” I say. “I’m not doing anything. Did you text Zane?”

  “Yeah, but you know how he is. He’ll come when he feels like it.” He continues tapping out more texts.

  “Did the team win this year?” I ask.

  He looks up. “What?”

  I nod to his phone. “Did our old school win their games?”

  “Oh. Not sure. I’ll catch you later.” He climbs up the stairs.

  Weird. Why wouldn’t his old buddies tell him how the season’s going? I guess their friendship isn’t all about football. Maybe they feel bad to shove it in Aidan’s face all the time.

  Zane returns an hour later, soaked due to the rain that started to fall. His sketchpad is dry, though, since he was careful to protect it from the heavy drops. Zane and his art. There’s no coming between them.

  I wish I were passionate about something. Sure I have my cooking and baking, but it’s not the same love Zane has for his drawing. I had that once, though—with magic. But that died the day my father was carried off to jail, and no matter how much my heart begs me to do a trick—just one trick—I don’t allow myself to.

  Chapter Seven

  Lia

  The second Dad and I leave the house, I feel like someone is watching me. My head whips to and fro, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone here. No strange cars are nearby, no stalkers are hanging out on the streets. It’s just our quiet little neighborhood.