My Hottie Neighbor

Chapter 9

"You need money to pay for things," Nathalie explained with a shrug. "Which is money I don't have."

"How are you supposed to live here without a table?" Ethan asked, shaking his head as he noticed her TV perched on an old chair. "This is ridiculous. Come on."

Nathalie called after him as he stormed out, leaving her front door ajar, but he didn't respond. A moment later, he returned with a rocking chair from his parents' apartment, placing it in her living room. Nathalie demanded to know what he was doing, but he left again, this time bringing back a lamp.

"Help me with the table, will you?" he asked, a note of command in his voice.

"Ethan, you can't just give me your parents' stuff!" Nathalie protested. Was he seriously planning to move all the furniture marked for donation into her place? "Ethan, stop! I can't accept this! You barely know me, and I just told you I can't afford it. Plus, it's your mother's stuff! Shouldn't she have a say?"

He pulled out his phone, a determined look in his eyes. Before she could say anything, he was talking to his mother.

"Mom? Hi."

"Ethan," Nathalie hissed, moving to lightly swat his arm.

He shushed her. "Remember old Mrs. Cobbs who moved to a nursing home a few weeks back? I just met the girl who's renting her old place. She needs some furniture. Can I give her the stuff we tagged for the thrift store? It would save me a lot of hassle." He listened closely as his mother spoke, smirking at Nathalie. "Of course, Mom. Yes, I'll tell her about the wobbly chair." He nodded, his hand resting warmly on Nathalie's shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, she's nice. You'd like her. I think whoever rents this place next will be fortunate to have her as a neighbor." His hand drifted down, surprising her as it cupped her breast, making her gasp. "Yes, Mom, everything's going fine here." He pulled Nathalie against him, embracing her as he finished the call.

As soon as he hung up, Ethan lowered his head to kiss her. Nathalie gladly responded, savoring the taste and sensation. He pulled back sooner than she wished.

"So, are you going to help me carry this table, or do I need to ask Anna to help us later?" he teased, taking hold of one end of the kitchen table.

"Did you sleep with her, too?" Nathalie blurted out, regretting it immediately.

Ethan shook his head, unfazed. "Now come on, Nathalie, let's get moving."

Relieved he hadn't slept with her neighbor, Nathalie forgot to protest receiving the table. Together, they moved it into her apartment, instantly making the space feel more lived-in. She felt both grateful and guilty. They spent the rest of the afternoon moving more items, arranging them until satisfied. Ethan even transferred the bed from his spare room into her spare bedroom.

"Where are you going to sleep this week now that I have your bed?" Nathalie asked. "It must be weird to sleep in your parents' old bed."

"That one's being picked up in an hour by a friend who needs it," he said, running his fingers through his messy brown hair with a smirk. "Besides, why would I stay over there anymore?"

Oh. Right. He only had a few more days to clear out their place, and then he'd have his own apartment, wherever that may be. It was silly to think he'd stay in the apartment next to hers for six more days.

"Don't look so sad," he said, grinning. "Obviously, I'm staying in your bed."

Nathalie's heart raced as she reached for him, eager to be in his arms again. They kissed, but again he withdrew just as she became more engaged.

"How about you start on dinner while I call my friend to check when he's picking up the bed? I still want to pack a few more boxes before calling it a day." His assumption she'd cook might have annoyed her, but it didn't. She was glad he was staying longer, and she wouldn't have to eat dinner alone tonight. It was strange knowing so little about him beyond the basics, but perhaps that would change tonight. Or maybe not. As long as he stayed the night, she didn't really care. She couldn't wait to feel his hands on her again.

"I'll take your starry-eyed look and silence as a yes," Ethan decided when she didn't respond. "I'll see you in an hour." He gave her a quick kiss and left, whistling to himself.

How did I end up in this situation? Nathalie wondered. Not that she was complaining, but she wasn't entirely sure what was happening. She decided not to worry and simply enjoy herself. Nathalie's new job was set to begin in a few days, marking the start of a more responsible chapter in her life. For now, she relished in the freedom of selecting some music and contemplating dinner options.

This evening, they sat properly for dinner at the table, each occupying opposite sides. Ethan continually praised her cooking, devouring so much that Nathalie couldn't help but marvel at how he maintained such a fit physique despite eating like that. If she ate that way, she surely wouldn't look the same. He must have a rigorous workout routine.

Their dinner conversation steered clear of personal details. Whenever Nathalie posed a question about him, Ethan deftly redirected with compliments about the meal or stories about other topics. By the end of their meal, she had learned his favorite foods, that his favorite color was blue—the color of her eyes, as he charmingly pointed out—and about his childhood dog, Chewy. Yet, she still didn't know his last name, his sister's name, or any details about his father's passing. Similarly, Ethan refrained from asking anything personal about her, preferring light chatter about mutual interests and shared jokes.

Nathalie felt conflicted—both pleased and frustrated with how the day had unfolded. "What's your last name?" she finally asked as he recounted a story involving a friend who had broken his leg on a ski trip.

He sighed, meeting her gaze. "Why do you need to know? So you and your friend can google me? I don't think so."

"You know my last name," she pointed out, recalling when he'd overheard her introduction to Anna.

"True, but I haven't googled you," he replied.

"Oh, so you don't trust me?" she teased, playfully pointing her fork at him. "That's hurtful."

"First, why do you need my last name if not to look me up?" He chuckled at her expression. "Second, we hardly know each other. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Nathalie answered immediately. It might have been foolish, but she truly did. Ethan's calming presence and attentiveness, especially when they were together, inspired a sense of trust in her.

Ethan blinked, momentarily stunned by her instant reply. They locked eyes, a silence hanging between them, until he cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. "I'm stuffed," he remarked, trying to ease the tension. "Thanks for cooking. It was wonderful. How about I clean up and you... I don't know, what do you like to do?"

"That's okay," Nathalie said, starting to gather the dishes. "I'm sure you have things to handle next door. I'll clean up myself."

"No," Ethan decided, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I don't like that plan at all." He gently took the plates from her hands, setting them back down. Pulling her against him, she felt his desire pressing against her. "Let's just leave the dishes and take a shower."

"Okay," she agreed, not about to protest. Already, his touch had her wanting more.

This time, there was no slow build. They undressed quickly, and Ethan retrieved a condom from his pocket. Once in the shower, he lifted her, pressing her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around him naturally as he entered her, their rhythm familiar despite this being only their second encounter. Eyes closed, he savored the sensation, while she watched him, eager to witness his release. As he tensed and edged closer, her moans filled the bathroom, her fingers digging into his skin.

Afterward, as he lowered her and discarded the condom, Nathalie knew he wasn't finished.

"Let's take care of you now," he murmured.

Though she longed for him to continue, she hesitated. "It's okay," she told him, mindful of how some men, like Daniel, tended to fall asleep swiftly after their pleasure. She didn't want Ethan to feel obligated.

"No, it's not okay," Ethan insisted. "Most women don't climax from penetration alone. Unless you're some kind of unicorn and finished without me noticing, you can't be satisfied yet." His knowing smile broadened as he read the truth in her eyes. "Like I said, it's time to take care of you now, Nathalie."