My Neighbor's Husband

It seems crazy, and I did a double take at first. After all, Dane’s shorts weren’t short shorts or anything like that. If anything, the blue fabric came down almost to his knee, and looked like a regular pair of Docker shorts that dads wear.

But when my eyes caught a glimpse of something deep purple bouncing around his knee, I zoomed in for a closer look and then my heartrate practically stopped. I wasn’t hallucinating. That was his glans protruding from the fabric, swinging around because he’s that thick and long. I could hardly believe it and my eyes flew up to his. Did he know this was happening?

But of course, Dane knew. He met my eyes straight on and then winked a bit while jiggling his leg some more. Of course, that made his tip bounce up and down and my mouth went dry as my eyes bulged. Oh my gosh, was this man teasing me? Was he playing with me by jiggling his anatomy to show me how massive he is?

The rest of the conversation passed in a blur. I have no idea what was said, or what kind of impression I made. I probably came off as a dunce, come to think about it. But Dane merely grinned at me again before heading off to replenish his food, as I stood there gawking like a teenage girl.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute!” Jane squealed once Dane was out of earshot. Cute is one way to put it. Had she seen what I’d seen? Evidently not because Dane had angled his body so that only I could see his left side and the giant purple glans poking out from beneath his clothes. Jane was on his right side, and we were all quite a ways from the party, so no one could see except for me.

“Um yes, very good-looking,” I mumbled while staring down at my drink.

“He’s single now,” Jane sang, winking at me suggestively. “You should totally hit it.”

I was honestly too shocked to come up with any kind of reasonable reply.

“Um, yeah,” I mumble.

Jane shrieks with joy.

“Are you serious? Yeah, do it,” she says while practically rubbing her palms together with glee. “Oh my gosh, he’s sooo hot.”

At that point, I get myself together somewhat.

“Yeah, but if he just got divorced like you say, then he’s probably only been divorced for what? Three days?”

Jane shrugs.

“Hey, divorced is divorced. Just like you can’t really understand anyone else’s marriage, you can’t really understand anyone else’s divorce either. So hit the big one, girlie. You know, guys like that don’t stay single long. Girls claw and bite each other to get a piece of man like Dane Jones, and Margot, you have got to make use of this opportunity,” she said. “Go get him!”

“Yeah, but what should I do?” I ask plaintively. “Show up at his house with a box of brownies unannounced? Pretend that I need help changing a lightbulb in my living room?”

Jane shrugged.

“Who knows? Does it even matter? All of those things sound good actually. Why don’t you ask to borrow a cup of sugar from him?”

I snorted with laughter.

“You know, you are just too funny,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Jane throws me a devilish look.

“Better yet, say you want to share a cup of sugar,” she intimated. “I bet that’ll be fun.”

I snorted again with laughter and we went back to talking about this and that. All in all, I spent a couple hours laughing and chatting with my neighbors at the block party before heading home. Now, as the door closes, I realize I’m exhausted. Twilight is turning into dark, and I shuck off my shoes before heading to the fridge to grab a beer. Of course, I’ve already had some adult drinks at the party, but another one isn’t going to kill me.

I’ve just settled onto my couch and booted up my laptop for another Netflix binge, when suddenly, there’s a loud rap on my front door. What in the world? Who could it be? It’s too late at night for Amazon deliveries, and I don’t usually get guests.

Heaving myself off the couch, I jam my feet into my fuzzy slippers and schlep over to the door.

“Hold on, hold on,” I say, struggling with the lock that always catches. “Let me just get this –”

But as the door swings open, my breath catches and my eyes go wide. It’s my gorgeous neighbor and he looks yummier than ever with the harsh planes of his face highlighted by shadow, and the broad width of his shoulders reaching from one end of my porch to another.

“Um, hi,” I stammer. “Dane, right?”

He grins. My neighbor knows that I know perfectly well what his name is.

“That’s right. I think you left something at my place,” he says casually while holding a piece of cloth up. I squint in the darkness and then realize what it is. It’s the handkerchief that Buster wears around his neck. It’s undeniably Buster’s with its bright yellow color and big monogrammed “B” in the center.