Next Door Neighbors [Book 1]

Chapter 1: The Begining

Melanie

One year.

One entire year of crushing, lusting, desperately yearning for the man next door.

Moving from Miami, Florida to the outskirts suburbs of Manhattan, New York wasn't what I thought it would be. My parents decided to move right next door to the man I've developed an insanely inappropriate crush on since the first day we moved next to him, or them I should say. You see, he has a wife; Samira Johnson Styles. I've only met her a handful of times, none of those times were particularly pleasant but rather underwhelming, I guess... if that's even the right word. With Harry however, we've developed an unlikely friendship that stemmed from the friendship my father and him shared.

Throughout the move from Florida to New York it was nothing but talk about how my father was going to reunite with his former band member/friend and thus in the process rekindling their friendship which intern would contribute their reacquaintance into business. I suppose when my parents were looking into houses it was a coincidence that the property they were the most interested in happened to be next door to him. A happy coincidence if you ask me. My parents and Harry still ran in the same circles of the corporate world considering how they and the other previous members turned their band member wealth into business ventures.

My father, Zayn Malik, was the first to leave the band back in the day. Nearly two decades ago now. He did it for my mother, Melinda and I. My mother became pregnant three years into the bands journey. The pregnancy was a blessing for my parents nevertheless, it pushed my father to do greater things and now he's the proud owner of various hotels in every big city in the U.S. and U.K. under the name Melmore Hotels.

My eyes flicker to the vast window behind the silhouette of the handsome man sitting in a large black office chair and watched as gaunt, silver whips of clouds highlighted the dying sun, a florescent orange hue setting the once light blue sky ablaze with a bright, fire-like anger in its decent into the dark. I watched in comforting silence as wild violets and pastel pinks coalesced with rich navy blues. Time passed but the moon was yet to make its appearance, however its pearly outline could be seen beyond the veil of the fog. I could watch the sunset for hours as the lights of the bright city from below never allowed it to get too dark, but I diverted my attention to Harry when I heard a low grunt erupt from his lips.

My eyes never became tired of looking at him. He sat promptly behind a long wooden black desk in one of his many variations of black suits. His black tie hung loosely and untied around his neck and over his black, button-up long sleeve shirt, his black blazer hanging lazily on the back of his chair. Dark colors suited him so well, his light features standing out so well against the dark. I observed as his muscles flexed ever so often as he reached for his keyboard or a pen. He wasn't the most buff guy, but he definitely had some muscle in there. There was something awkward in his posture most likely developed from being sat behind a desk all day long, but I quite enjoyed it. It was cute. The bottom portion of his body was hidden behind his desk, but I already knew he wore matching black slacks and black ankle dress boots. His pants always hugged his toned thighs tastefully though the calfs portion was comfortably loose. That's how he liked the fit of all his pants.

He soon looked up from behind his desktop computer, rubbed his tired emerald eyes and made eye contact with me. His face slightly winced in stress? Tiredness? Anger? I could never know.

"Is everything okay?" I ask softly.

The leather of the couch I sat on feet away from Harry itched against my exposed thighs. I stood up carefully as I pulled my navy uniform skirt down. My skirt reached just above my knees but when I sat it became uncomfortably short. My fingers played with the hem of my skirt while I patiently awaited an answer from Harry.