In My Neighbor's Bed

Ch. 13: Unpacking

I knocked on his door with my heart pounding in my ears. And that volume only seemed to increase as I heard his footsteps. After what felt like an eternity, the handle rattled softly and the door finally opened.

Then there he was.

It was almost crazy. We just talked yesterday and somehow, it already felt like an eternity since I'd last seen him.

Funnily enough, he was dressed in almost the same exact outfit that I was. A pair of jeans and a plain T-shirt. It wasn't exactly "tight-fitting" on him or anything, but goddamn, I don't think there was a T-shirt alive that could cover up those muscles of his.

Not that it mattered. With any luck, I'd have it off of him in a little while anyway. There was a hint of a smirk in his smile as he looked at me. Almost as if he was reading my mind. Then again, the way I was eye-fucking him probably didn't make it too hard to guess either.

Still, he did his part to play the good neighbor while we were outside. "Hey, Maggie! Glad you could make it."

His exaggerated cheerfulness helped to yank my mind out of the gutter. At least, long enough to play along. I laughed, putting on my own fake smile.

"Of course. I promised after all."

"Well, come on in. I could certainly use a hand," he said, gesturing inside.

Oh, he was about to get a lot more than just "a hand" from me, and I gave him a look that told him as much. He returned my look with a sly smile of his own, stepping back to let me through the doorway.

However, fate is a cruel and fickle bitch. No sooner had I taken a step than I heard a voice call from behind me. "Maggie, is that you?"

I had to repress a groan as the familiar voice immediately caught my attention. God, why me? Why today?

Of course, of all days, who else would show up today but Greta Hillard?

The last thing I wanted to do today was waste my time with Mason forcing small talk with Greta Hillard. However, I didn't really have much of a choice.

Greta was one of those infamous neighborhood busybodies. And one of the most notorious ones too. She was like a lit match searching for gasoline, and the moment she found any she set it all ablaze, spreading her flames anywhere and everywhere that she could.

Nobody was safe from the fires of her burning gossip. She was the one who spread the news about the Wilson's teenage daughter getting pregnant, about Mr. Olson losing his job, about the president of the HOA fucking the manager of the local landscaping company.

Without compassion, empathy, or remorse, she shamelessly spewed whatever she could to whoever would listen. Regardless of what the consequences might be to those involved.

Which is why I couldn't ignore her. Zooming into Mason's house without so much as a "hello" would only make her suspicious. And the last thing I needed was to draw any more attention to us and our interactions than what was necessary.

No, my best bet would be to face her head-on. To stop the gossip directly at its source before it had the chance to make its way to others. And, potentially, even spin it in my favor.

I took a deep breath before turning toward her with my best fake smile. "Greta! What are you doing here? This isn't Puffy's usual walk, is it?"

"No, it isn't," she agreed, patting the panting Pomeranian at her heels. "We usually take a shorter walk around our street, but the vet said Puffy's been putting on a bit of weight lately so I thought adding an extra street or two to our route might help with that."