Secrets (A Standalone Novel) (A Suspense Romance) (2 page)

“Are you alright?” Rebecca said loudly into the phone.

I’m not sure if she
was
actually
loud or if my body was reacting horribly to the large amount of
alcohol I had consumed the night before.

“
Shhhh
, not so loud,” I said
as I tried to pry my eyes open.

“I’m talking in a regular voice. Are you just getting
up? Geeze Katelyn it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon.”

Sitting up in my bed I squinted with one eye as I
looked at the clock. I couldn’t remember ever sleeping in that late, even on a
Sunday. Typically I had my days filled with so many things to do I would wake
up out of pure worry that I wouldn’t get them all done.

“I guess I am,” I said with a smile.

“So you’re alive and I can call off the search crews,
great.”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for
coffee. I’m just going to nurse this hangover for today.”

“Take some aspirin, drink some water, oh and some
orange juice too.”

“Alright. Alright. I have to go. See you tomorrow.”

My bladder was about to explode and if Rebecca had not
willingly hung
up,
I’m sure I would have
just done it myself. Rebecca was a kind soul who really did care about
everyone. After losing my parents to illness and Michael to a car accident
,
Rebecca
had been the best person in the world to lean on.

As I brushed my teeth the memory of the gorgeous
stranger hit me and I had to go look out the window. It didn’t look any
different over there at the neighboring house. I watched intently to see if I
noticed any curtains moving as he walked past, or perhaps I would get lucky
enough to see him come outside again. I tried to peer around to the garage
out back
to see if there was a vehicle there,
but I couldn’t see from my bedroom.

I moved my
snooping
self
down to the kitchen as I made a cup of coffee. The sweet and bitter
taste hit my pallet with a bang and I could feel the caffeine start rushing
through my body. I needed that desperately.

The memory of the stranger’s body still burned in my
brain, I could still feel his warm olive skin on my hands. I licked my lips
with desire as I thought about his lips: their perfect color and roundness; I
wanted to feel them against mine. It was like sweetness on my mouth as I
thought about the neighbor and how he could please me with those lip.

My eyes stayed focused on his house, just waiting for
him to come out
shirtless
like he had
done the night before. My body ached to see him again. I didn’t even know his
name,
but I was filled with thoughts of desire.
What would his lips feel like on my body?
Oh,
how I would love to feel them softly moving over every inch of me. Slowly
moving from my neck, down to my nipple and further down to bring me to a tremendous
explosion.

With my coffee in
hand,
I went out my back door to see if he was anywhere to be seen. I looked
around
his
garage,
but there wasn’t a car there. It looked just as empty has it always had. A
sinking feeling came over me. He was real, right? The idea that he might not
have really been there the night before haunted me. I know I had been drunk,
but was it possible to be so drunk you imagined a person that didn’t exist?

As I stood in my backyard looking at his
house,
I was compelled to get closer and closer
to the building. I could feel my heart start quickening with each step. One foot
in front of the other and I made my way into the neighbor’s backyard. I placed
my hand on the side door to the garage and slowly twisted the doorknob. It opened.

When I looked into the
garage,
it was totally empty. This seemed extremely odd to me. If someone had really
just moved in, surely they would have some boxes or other personal belongings
that they would be storing in the garage.

Confusion filled me as I walked up to the house. I
placed my face against one of the windows and looked inside. The same old
furniture that had sat in there for the last five years was still there.

The Anderson’s had been killed in a car accident and
they had no children. Five years had gone by, but I still remembered it like it
was yesterday. They had been arguing for days before the accident. Most of the
town believed that Mr. Anderson had purposely driven them off the road. But no
one would ever know for sure, the event was officially listed as an accident.
Their home was given to a cousin who lived out of town. We all thought the
cousin would list the house for sale, but year after year it stayed empty.

I walked around to the front of the home and without
thinking, I knocked.

A flash of regret quickly shot through me. What if he
was there? I would look crazy to him: peering in his windows, looking in his
garage, knocking on his door; all for no good reason at all. Well in my head I
had a good reason. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see if that
electricity I had felt the night before was something real or just something I
had imagined.

I stood timidly waiting in anticipation. I wanted to
see him again, but then I was nervous at the possibility as well. There was no
reason for anyone to come to this small
town
in the countryside of Missouri, well no
good
reason at least. He said he had come for a break, but still; no one came to our
small town for a break either. Everyone who lived in Bain was born there or had
the unfortunate luck to have fallen in love with someone who lived there.
People just didn’t move to small towns like Bain nowadays.

After standing for a few minutes in front of the neighbor’s
house,
I came to the conclusion that I
either totally imagined
this
guy or
he wasn’t home. I slowly made my way
back over to my house and called Rebecca back.

“Hey, have you heard of anyone moving into the
Anderson’s old house?”

“No. Why?

I hesitated to tell her about the gorgeous guy from
the previous night. What if my brain really had made the whole thing up?

“Oh, no reason, I just thought I saw a light on over
there.”

“
Well,
I know
the cousin was going to try and rent the house out or sell it or something. But
I haven’t heard of anyone being interested. Plus, I think we would have noticed
a moving truck if someone had decided to move in.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, thanks.”

I hung up and was even more confused than before.
Rebecca was right. I would have noticed a moving truck over there. I’m almost
always home.

This was getting more and more baffling by the moment.

The days went by and I didn’t see the mysterious
neighbor at all. I looked out in the morning, snuck a peak around dinner and
even woke up in the middle of the night to see if I saw any movement over
there.

Surely
, his appearance
could have been some sort of alcohol-induced
psychosis,
but
my body could not accept that. If I closed my
eyes,
I could still remember what his skin felt
like under my fingertips. I still felt the hard muscle of his chest and the
warm flush of embarrassment that filled my body.
 
I had to get my mind off of him. Only a couple
more weeks left before my big photography exhibit and I still needed at least
three more pieces to show.

Since Michael’s
death,
I had resigned myself to the recluse life of a photographer. My days, and
sometimes my nights, were filled staring through the lens of my Canon EOS
professional camera. It had been a gift from Michael and was by far one of my
most treasured belongings.

When not wrapped up in the world through my camera
lens, I was painfully restoring every aspect of my grandparents’ old Victorian
home. I hand-stripped the wood trim and was about to start the process of
staining all the pieces before putting them back up.

The night was clear and the moon full on this
particular night, so I grabbed my camera and went for a walk. A lot of what
people didn’t understand about photography was the amount of time an artist
took to find just the right picture. It was a delicate balance between the
light, objects and my own skills.

As I walked down an old dirt road just outside of
town, I finally found just the right angle for the picture I wanted. The woods
nearby skimmed the bottom of the brilliant moon and the sky was so clear that
it seemed as though every star in the galaxy was shining
brightly
in the sky.

I lay down and peered through my lens to find just the
right balance of light for the shot I wanted. I was so enveloped in my own
little world and the photographic process that I didn’t hear the pounding of
footsteps until they were right over me.

 
“Are you
alright?”

I heard his
smooth,
calm voice and my body reacted with instant
acknowledgment
.
It was him; it was the gorgeous neighbor from the other night. I snapped a
couple pictures and slowly moved my camera away from my face.

“Yep, just taking some pictures,” I said looking up
from the ground.

“I see that.”

His quietness was uncomfortable and I sprang to my
feet.

In the
moonlight,
I saw the familiar shirtless figure that I had been searching for over the last
several days.

“Where have you been?” I blurted out.

A smile broke through his cool expression. It was the
first real emotion I had seen on his face.

“Oh, have you been looking for me?” he said as he took
a step toward me.

His movement into the close proximity of me had by
pulse racing. I was more nervous than I remembered being the night I met him.
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I couldn’t seem to swallow. The
power this man had over my thoughts was incredible.

“I came over to thank you for making sure I got home
safely the other night.”

“You really shouldn’t drink and act like a fool. You
could have been taken advantage of.”

My face flushed quickly, but this time I felt a burn
of anger. Who was he to tell me I acted like a fool? I’m an adult; I can have a
good time with my girlfriends. I was responsible and took a cab.

“
W-what???
I’m a
fool?”

The question left my mouth before I could stop myself.

“Yes. You let a complete stranger have a key to your
house and open your door for you.”

“I felt safe.”

“
Well,
you
shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t feel safe around you?”

He was trying to pretend like he was a dangerous man,
well maybe he was in some other aspect of his life. But the way he looked at
me, I could tell he wouldn’t harm a woman ever.

“You shouldn’t feel safe around any man. They only
have one thing on their mind.”

Before I could respond, he was there, right next to
me. His arm wrapped around my waist and I felt his hand on my back, pressing me
into his sweaty body. Dazed, I just stood there. My camera in one hand and my
other hand placed firmly on his chest.
Oh,
the delight of feeling his skin again. I prepared myself to be kissed.

His lips were only mere inches away from mine and I
could feel myself subconsciously urging him to keep moving closer.

“What would that one thing be?” My breath was quiet
and filled with desire.

I could feel my chest heaving up and down as I tried
to calm myself. There was just something about this man that wouldn’t let me
stay calm when I was near him. I certainly couldn’t calm down now that his hand
was wrapped around my waist.

“To taste you,” he said.

His deep brown eyes peered right into my soul. I
wiggled a little in his arms and he adjusted his grip. Then I felt it. Through
his running
shorts,
I could feel the
girth of his erection. He wanted me. The way he looked at me, it was like he
needed to have me. It was a primal urge that could not be stopped by anything.

I smiled and pushed away firmly. This time he released
me.

“I should get going,” I said as I looked down at my
camera.

Never in all my life
had a
man so overtly tried to sleep with me. I didn’t know if I was impressed with
his forwardness or if I should have been angry. Maybe I should have slapped
him?

“I’ll walk you home,” he said with
a sly
smile.

I tried to talk him out of walking me home. He looked
like he was just heading out for his run, but since it was the middle of the
night, I accepted his offer. We walked slowly and I
talked
while he listened.

I shared stories about Bain and how the small town had
survived for so many years. It was a totally boring conversation, especially
considering he had just told me he wanted to taste me.