Love Thy Neighbor

Chapter 17

Shawn gets back from his trip on the Saturday before Hanukkah and Christmas and comes straight to my condo. He's obviously worn out from almost 24 hours of traveling, but he's smiling when I answer the door.

"Wrong address," I tell him, looking at the pile of luggage he has piled next to him. "You live over there," and I point to his door.

"Ha. Ha. I can't wait to see you," he says, "and you just mock me."

I crook my finger at him. "Come here."

He leaves all his stuff in the hall and walks towards me, enveloping me in a big hug.

"I missed your hugs," I tell him.

He pulls back a bit, smiles, and leans down and kisses me deeply.

"I missed that, too," I say when we finally break apart.

"How about we go to my place, I'll unpack, and then we can go get dinner out."

"Out?"

"Out."

"But we don't usually go out," I say. "It's risky."

I'm talking about the fans. There are often some staked outside our building. They ignore me, but Shawn has told me that he feels obligated to stop and take pictures if he goes out the main entrance. Luckily, there's a parking level to our building and that offers a bit of privacy when entering and exiting.

"I have not seen you in almost two weeks," he explains, "and I want to take you someplace nice. It can't always be take-out."

"Hey, I cook for us sometimes!" I protest.

"Let me do something nice for you, Jessica," he says. He punctuates this statement with a kiss.

"If you insist. You go unpack. I need to make myself presentable if we are going out," I say.

An hour later he's back at the door, looking handsome in black jeans and a tailored maroon button down shirt. His hair is damp. He must have squeezed in a shower. When I walk up to him, I am overcome by his intoxicating smell. I know he has his own line of cologne, but if they could actually bottle what he smells like after a shower, it would sell like crazy.

I'm wearing red jeans, black boots, and a black wrap-around sweater. I'm showing more cleavage than normal and I see Shawn's eyes take notice of this.

We take the elevator down to the parking level and walk hand in hand to his Jeep.

He drives for a short bit before pulling into a parking lot next to Jacobs and Co. Steakhouse. The gift card place. I laugh when I see where we are, but don't say anything.

Apparently we have reservations. Or maybe we're seated right away because of who he is.

"Did your manager suggest this?" I ask after we've been served some red wine.

"Not this time, though I did tell him, and my crew, about you."

"What did you say?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"I said I'd met someone and we were seeing each other regularly. Oh, and I said you lived across the hall," he says.

"What was the response to that?"

"Pretty much all of the guys made some comment about how that is very convenient," he says with a laugh.

I roll my eyes. I guess I have proximity going for me.

He continues, "Of course Andrew has to point out how problematic it would be if things did not work out."

"I've thought of that."

"And?" he asks.

"I figured that we could just go back to not really acknowledging each other," I say.

"No being friends, eh?" he says with a small frown.

I shrug. "Maybe. I know David and I aren't friends. But that ended really badly. I still see him occasionally when I am home. I pretend that he's a stranger."

"That's pretty cold," he tells me.

"It is what it is," I say.

We order dinner. It's so delicious. There is nothing quite like a perfectly cooked steak. I can feel a food coma setting in as I take my last bite.

The waitress brings Shawn the bill. He pulls out a gift card.

"That's not-" I start.

He interrupts, "The gift card. Yep. It is."

"How?!"

"That night at the bar, when I went to get another round of drinks, I gave the bartender a $300 tip in exchange for taking the gift card out of the jar. He was happy since cash was more useful to him."

"And you've waited almost two months to drop the mic, huh?" I say laughing.

He's grinning like a fool. "I win!"

As we're leaving the restaurant and walking to the Jeep, a couple girls stop Shawn. He takes pictures with them as I stand to the side.

"You are the best celebrity ever," I tell him once we're driving off. "I doubt anyone is as good to their fans."

"They are why I am where I am."

Back at his condo, we're snuggled on the couch, watching a hockey game. I check Instagram since I am only about 25% interested in the game.

"Hey Shawn, look," I say handing him my phone.

There are several pictures of us walking down the street holding hands.

He shrugs. "It was bound to happen."

I look at some of the comments. No one knows who I am, which is good. I'm a private person. All of my social media is locked down pretty tightly. For now I am just an anonymous girl. That doesn't stop people from making judgements, though.

"Not even ten comments in and someone mentioned my fat thighs," I groan.

Shawn takes my phone and puts it out of reach. "You need to thicken that beautiful skin of yours, Jess. Sometimes my fans turn nasty out of envy. Ignore it."

"But she was right. I have no thigh gap."

He pulls me onto his lap. "Baby, listen to me. Really listen. Okay?"

I nod.

He continues, "What other people say or think is just bullshit. I think you are gorgeous." He kisses me. "You are sexy." Another kiss, slightly deeper. "You drive me wild. Isn't that what counts?"

I respond by kissing him. For hours.