The Girl Next Door

2

That night I laid in my bed, tossing and turning and imagining the smell of Bridget, the floral and sweet smell of her skin. I couldn't stop thinking about her or what happened.

When my alarm went off at nine the next morning, I was absolutely exhausted. I drug myself out of bed. My feet felt like led bricks and my eyelids were heavy while I showered and got dressed for work.

I left a couple of minutes late, but thankfully I still had the chance to stop and get coffee on my way to work.

I parked my car in front of one of my dad's old ice cream parlors slash desert cafe, and sat in my car for the last ten minutes before I had to be inside.

I could still feel her skin on mine. Fuck, I could still taste her. I tried to stop thinking about it and turn my attention to something else, but no matter what, it always went back to her.

The last words she'd said before she left were, "Don't get too excited. This doesn't mean anything, just a one time thing."

I couldn't decide if she meant it when she said it, but I knew that I wanted more. I wanted her again and again. I wanted her all the time.

I got out of my car and unlocked the door to the store, my dad named it Creekville Treats. I spend most of my days in the shop during summer vacation, and today was no different.

I was the only one who usually came in in the mornings, but I knew I wouldn't be this morning. Dad hired someone to help me with morning prep and it was my job to train them.

What I wasn't expecting though, was for my trainee to be Bridget.

She knocked on the door of the shop, looking just as amazing as she did the night before, wearing a small black tank top and the same black shorts from the night before. Just looking at her made my mind race even more.

I walked over to open the door for her, all the while hoping that she couldn't see what her presence was doing to me. She walked in like she owned the place, a look of determination plastered on her face.

"You're my boss?" She asked blankly.

"For the day, yeah." I answered, locking the door back up.

"Great." She laughed. "The universe is great isn't it?"

I didn't answer her, I kept quiet while I led her to the back of the shop.

"Fuckboy, are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"You could stop calling me that."

"But I really don't want to. Now, what are we doing?"

"I'm taking you back to the break room to get you a shirt and an apron, then I'm going to show you how we set shit up."

"Okay cranky."

"I'm not even cranky."

"Okay Fuckboy."

Instead of answering, I shook my head and led her inside the break room. "Pick a locker that doesn't have a lock."

"I didn't bring anything to put in a locker."

"Alright, but I'm still required to assign you one, so please just pick one."

She looked around for a few minutes, taking her sweet time to find the perfect locker, and finally settled on the one right next to mine. "This one looks like it has the potential of holding the zero items I brought with me."

"Here." I chuckled, handed her a lock, her combination and a magnetic name tag for her locker. "I also need to know your shirt size."

I watched her closely while she wrapped her arms around herself, obviously shy and insecure about her body, even though in my mind, she had no reason to be. "Large." Her voice was flat, and her cheeks turned pink.

"Stop, don't do that." I ran a hand through my hair and looked her in the eyes for a split second before looking back down at the floor.

"Do what?" She asked, cheeks getting darker.

"Don't act like that. Like you're ashamed. You shouldn't be. You're beautiful."

She turned around quickly, getting to work on her locker, "Uh oh. Fuckboy, I told you it was a one time thing."

"So I'm not allowed to tell you that you have a bangin' body?"

"Not if you're just hoping it'll get you laid again."

"I'm saying it because I mean it. Because you are beautiful. I'm not trying to get anything from you."

I turned around this time, digging through the boxes of T-shirt's to find one in her size. Neither of us spoke until I turned back around to hand her the shirt.

"Thank you." She whispered, and then loudly said, "Oh look! I have something to leave in my locker now!" And before I could ask her what she meant, she was pulling her tank top off over her head. Fuck.

She was wearing a red lace bra, one so similar to what she was wearing before, and I had to turn around. I grasped the counter so hard my knuckles were turning white, hoping like hell that there would be no evidence of what she was doing to me when I turned back around.

I could hear her giggling behind me, then the slam of her locker door. "It's okay Fuckboy, you can turn around now. It's all covered."

It was her first day of work, and I could already tell I was in for one hell of a summer.