Page 3 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

Chapter Three

Taylor

P acing from the living room to the kitchen, repeatedly peeking out the windows as I passed, I wondered where Van had gone on his motorcycle. My ears were perked, listening for the roar of the engine to come, and when it still hadn’t, I was becoming antsy.

For some unknown reason, Van always caused me to lose my sense of time, myself, and functioning. Having a quick glimpse of Van an hour ago, and I hadn’t been able to function since.

“What the heck,” I mumbled, and strode into the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator, I realized I still hadn’t gone to the grocery store. Wishing there was a delivery service, I sighed. I didn’t want to leave the house yet, in case Van returned, but I needed food more than another glimpse at my childhood crush.

I walked back into the living room and climbed the stairs to the second floor, where all three bedrooms were located in the house. Turning into my childhood bedroom, I picked up my suitcase from the floor and flopped it onto the bed.

Rummaging through my clothes, I grabbed a pair of faded denim shorts, a light pink tank top, and a clean Bandeau bra. I figured I’d take a quick rinse off shower, get dressed and do the dreaded trip to the other side of town to Coleman’s little grocery store.

I’d get the necessities until I had a chance to drive an hour away to a larger store to stock the pantry. I had a list I wrote while sitting out on the front porch, and I figured if I saw anything special at Hanover’s Grocers, I could always pick it up.

I had no date in mind to return to my position at the therapy office, and luckily, I was a good saver. I had a nice savings account and could go for almost a year without having a job. Not that I was planning on not having a job for a year, but it was nice to know I could if needed.

Fifteen minutes later, my shower done and dressed for the day, I headed downstairs to grab my phone, keys, and purse. Just as I opened the front door, I screamed.

Standing on the front porch, opening the screen door was Hunter.

“My goodness, Hunter,” I held a hand to my chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I could be asking you the same question,” he frowned, and sidestepped me, entering the foyer.

“Oh, yeah,” I winced. “About that…”

“Did Travis do something?”

“How did you know I was…” I stopped when I heard the rumble of a motorcycle coming down the road. “Van…”

“Yeah, Van,” Hunter spun around to face me. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged and slipped my phone and keys into my purse.

As the motorcycle noise grew closer, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Van going past the house. As he drove by, he turned his head and glanced in our direction, and I felt my stomach flip-flop.

“Taylor?” Hunter’s commanding voice cut through pulling me back from my thoughts.

“Huh?” I shook my head, my fingers nervously holding on to my purse.

“I said,” he sighed, his exhale carrying the weight of older-brother concern. “When did you get here?”

“Early this morning,” I replied as the motorcycle engine in the distance fell silent. “I left late last night.”

“Left the city? Left Travis for good? Left your job?” Each question landed like a stone in the pit of my stomach.

“All of them, sort of,” I mumbled. My shoulders curved inward, as if I could physically shrink from the weight of my decisions.

“Explain,” Hunter frowned.

I took the next few minutes telling him how I needed some separation from work, Travis, and time to figure out what was next for me. Ever since I broke off the engagement and called off the wedding, Travis hadn’t been in the office much, and I had a feeling it had to do with his father, the founder of the company.

Duncan Fredrickson was a whirlwind to be reckoned with, and father and son didn’t see eye to eye too often. I’d been a witness to their encounters at the office and in their personal lives, so I imagine Duncan told his son to stay away from the office until the situation calmed down.

Travis has returned after months away, and even though we don’t interact, I’m still uncomfortable seeing him every day.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Hunter continued after my explanation. “I could’ve opened up the house, and got you some groceries.”

“Which reminds me,” I shrugged. “That’s where I was off to just now.”

“I can go with you,” Hunter offered, and I immediately rejected his kindness.

I wanted to go next door and see Van. I needed to squash any and all thoughts of the man who had infiltrated my thoughts all these years. With Hunter hanging around, I felt a little uneasy about visiting my neighbor.

I am still trying to understand why. They were best friends, and I was usually included in their shenanigans when we were younger, but for some reason, I wanted a few private moments with Van. We were friends, and it didn’t mean anything if I went for a visit.

“Why not?” Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Got some hot date you don’t want me to know about?”

“Yeah, right,” I snorted and pulled my car keys out of my purse. “Just need food. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Hunter stepped back, held the door for me, and I smiled.

“Sure, why not,” I shrugged and followed him onto the porch.

As we strolled down the short sidewalk to his truck, my eyes darted to Van’s place, and I wondered if he’d come around the corner of his house just in time for me to catch a glimpse of him.

But alas, Van never appeared, and I climbed into my brother’s pickup truck. As I slammed the door, my eyes remained on the house next door. Sighing, I bit my lower lip and made a plan to go next door after I returned from the grocery store.

“I went to the tavern with Van earlier,” Hunter said as he backed out of the driveway.

“You did?” I tried my best not to sound too surprised, but I failed miserably. “And?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged as he drove down the road. “He was talking about being home for a few months during the off-season, and he asked me to help him with a charitable foundation he wants to start up.”

“A charitable foundation? For what?” My interest was piqued, and I shifted in my seat.

“He wants to have a non-profit for kids from low-income areas in the state, where they can get the supplies, equipment, and other things for baseball,” Hunter replied, turning his truck onto the main road leading to town.

“That would be good,” I murmured, thinking about how Hunter had a Bachelor’s degree in finance and marketing, as well as an Associate’s degree in management. My brother was definitely the man for the job.

Hunter continued rattling on about the vision that Van had shared with him, and my thoughts got lost in Van from earlier that morning, and how seeing him took my breath away. His bulging biceps when he was lifting hand weights to when he was doing lunges, how his muscular legs caught my attention.

The perspiration that trickled down his upper back, down to the waistband of his nylon shorts was more than I could handle.

“Taylor?” Hunter calling out to me brought me out of my reverie.

“Huh?”

“You were spaced out again,” He frowned when I glanced at him. “You okay? Did this Travis thing hit you that bad? I thought you were getting over it.”

“I am,” I sighed. “Or I thought I was…”

“Has that jerk called you?”

“I blocked his number, and I don’t answer any unknown numbers,” I turned my attention to the window.

“Good,” Hunter nodded as he turned into the small grocery store parking lot. “If he contacts you, let me know.”

“Why?” I asked. “What will you do?”

“Be the big protective brother that I am,” he smirked and parked his truck. “Let’s go get you some food.”

“Yeah, let’s get this done so I can get back home,” I said, opening the passenger side door and slipping out of the truck.

“Home? You’re staying?” Hunter asked as I circled the front of the truck and we walked side by side.

“For now,” I nodded.

“What would make it a more permanent stay?”

“Too many variables to mention,” I skirted the topic.

“Hmm, vague reply,” Hunter grabbed a grocery cart as we walked down the store aisles.

I placed food in the cart as Hunter strolled beside me, and I changed the topic. There was no way I was going to have a conversation with my brother about wanting to rush back to Gram’s place so I could run next door to talk to Van. I’m not sure how he’d react to that information.

Some things are better left unsaid.