Page 33 of Boxer Next Door

Besides, she’d been a way to escape the destiny that was my parents’ lifestyle, and she ended up being even more flighty than they were. I had no use for a woman that couldn’t keep her pants on in front of other men.

“It was humiliating at the time, getting stood up at my wedding and having to explain what happened, then finding out everything else afterward. But I consider it a gift now, the best that woman ever gave me. She dumped me because she couldn’t change, and I moved on to a better life.”

That didn’t make it all hurt any less, though, not for someone I’d given up so much trust to. The betrayal had cut deep, and it wasn’t something easy to forget.

“Well, I like your name,” Lydia declared, diverting my attention. “It sounds nice, and I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of.”

I smiled at her, pecking a kiss on her cheek. “That’s nice of you to say. Even most of my friends my age give me shit over it, sometimes.” You’d think people would act grown up at the age of twenty-five, but no.

“I’m not going to,” she reassured me. Then she gave me an inviting smile. “Also, I was thinking. Bryson’s at a friend’s house for part of his break for Thanksgiving. That means we have the house to ourselves…”

Just like that, my body was heating up, and I looked at her with growing interest.

“I’m listening,” I said huskily, pulling her hand from my shoulder and placing kisses all over the back of it, never once straying my gaze from hers.

She gave me a sultry look through her lashes. “I did kind of like it that time we had sex on my couch,” she admitted shyly.

I grinned roguishly at her. “Is that so?”

Lydia was rarely playful, so I took advantage of it in the times when she was. Still dressed in nothing but a towel, I picked her up and carried her downstairs. I’d already had her twice in her room, and it was still early. If she wanted some couch action, I wasn’t going to complain.

We stripped down in the living room and fucked on the couch. Then we went to the kitchen for a drink and made out on the counter. We spent the evening doing all the shit I imagined parents dreamt of when their kids had somewhere else to be for a free day. We did all the stuff we didn’t normally do. Lydia even let me take her in the kitchen, bent over the counter with me fucking her from behind.

We walked around naked. She was shy about it, but I’d pause every few minutes to kiss and touch her, and she grew more comfortable with herself. I found her body beautiful, and I let her know. I was pretty comfortable myself, feeling satisfaction every time her gaze lingered on my body. I was smiling as we went to sleep later that night, wrapped in each other’s arms.

This time, I stayed until morning.

My phone ringing on the nightstand woke me up. I grumbled, reaching for it with one arm, the other still holding Lydia’s warm, naked body to my chest. I even had thoughts of waking her up for some nice, slow morning sex. Until I saw the name on my phone’s screen.

It was like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on my head.

After so long, my friend was calling back, likely to report his findings.

“Shit,” I muttered.

I pulled away from Lydia, slowly. I cut the call and sent him a text, telling him to call me back in five minutes. I glanced over at Lydia, feeling a little guilty because I’d forgotten all about it. The words that strange woman had told me, how I’d called my cop friend to investigate Lydia like there was any possibility she could be a criminal.

My face was warm with shame as I left the room, but my heart was beating faster because I was curious.

I rushed around the house getting dressed, cursing myself for tossing my clothes all over the place. I didn’t even leave a note as I went back to my place. As soon as the door closed behind me, my phone was ringing again, and I picked up the call.

“Hey, Ken,” he said, and the serious tone he was starting the conversation with had dread growing in my chest.

“What is it?” I asked, anxious.

My friend sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have any good news for you here, Kenji.”

I didn’t even react to his use of my full name. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious. I looked into it just like you asked, and I spent so long because there’s hardly anything to find. Whoever that woman was… she might have been onto something. This husband, Mike, literally disappeared. I’d think he didn’t exist if I hadn't looked up a copy of his old driver’s license. I think you need to be careful around this woman.”

No way.

It just wasn’t possible, but even my friend seemed to be suspicious about her now.

If only I could bring myself to go back to her place and ask Lydia what happened.

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