Dear Naked Neighbour (The Dinner Club Book 1) Read online

“Dude, drop it. I am not asking out the naked girl everyone has seen without clothes, rubbing lotion on. Jesus. I don’t want to date one of Mike’s jerk-off girls.”

  “Every girl is a jerk-off girl for Mike. I think you’re scared of her,” he mocked me.

  “Yes. I am,” I said unabashedly. “She rides a motorcycle. You know how I feel about those ever since I went to that call with the guy who got sucked up into the semi-truck tires on the freeway. Took me half an hour to find that guy’s foot. And there’s no doubt she can kick my ass. Who dates a girl stronger than they are?”

  “Lots of guys. Mostly the ones with self-esteem.”

  “Shut up.” I lifted it several times before I benched it.

  “I date guys stronger than me all the time. And vice versa. It isn’t a pissing contest.” He grinned as I sat up. “And if it were, we all know who’s gonna win that one. You need to have more self-esteem. You’re a catch.”

  “Whatever.” My face burned as I got up and went to the free weights.

  Ever since they met one of my troop mates from basic training, they’d been harassing me. My call sign was Kickstand for a while. I only got Seventeen recently when someone asked Phil if it was Bring Your Kid to Work Day and they gave me a look.

  “Legit, ask her out,” he pestered.

  “Drop it.” I scowled. “I am never going to ask that girl out. Not ever. She isn’t my type.” I didn’t finish with “because I don’t ask anyone out.” I didn’t need to tell him that. He knew.

  My words always got stuck. I didn’t know how to say anything.

  We finished working out and I headed home to get ready for work. We were taking shifts for the next couple of nights listening to Dubhe and hoping he gave us some sort of lead. If not, we would be bugging the entire house and then the casino.

  People always believed they had so many rights. They assumed the government couldn’t do anything without their knowledge.

  We were that little section where the rules didn’t totally apply to us. We sat in the don’t-tell corner. What people didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. But if we always played by the rules, we would never get ahead, at least not with organized crime. They cheated, so we had to as well.

  We weren’t trying to get information we could use in court. We were trying to get information we could hand off to the undercover sections so they could have a better chance of catching criminals in the act.

  It was technically cheating, but who was looking?

  No one.

  No one knew we existed.

  When I got home I logged into WoW to do my dailies and chat with the guild. We needed to plan for our Wednesday and Friday night guild runs.

  As I logged off to shower before work, an email made my computer ding. Seeing her name made me worried and excited simultaneously.

  It was a short email from Callie, just three words. Breakfast tomorrow 11am.

  I stared at it for a long time, unsure why she would send it.

  Then I started forming a reason as to why I couldn’t go.

  Wednesdays were busy for me.

  I contemplated saying no with no reason. In fact, I typed the response a couple of times, but I couldn’t send it.

  Why was she asking me out?

  Was she genuinely asking me out?

  Was she trying to make me see she wasn’t some exhibitionist because I was a cop and she worried about that?

  No.

  She clearly didn’t care what people thought of her.

  Why then ask me out?

  There were only a few possible answers and only one way for me to see which it was. I decided to accept.

  She was making it easy on me, taking the first step.

  And Matt was right. I needed to not be a little bitch.

  I needed to go for breakfast with her.

  Even if she was a complete conflict of interest.

  Even if she totally assumed I was an undercover cop, which I was.

  And even if she wanted to discuss the drug house next door that she assumed I was watching, which I also was.

  Even if she knew my real name in a small city.

  I sent a single word back. Okay.

  She sent her phone number next. I texted it. Hi. My stomach tightened as it delivered.

  Hi. She texted back. Meet me at Glory’s Morning Café.

  Okay. I repeated myself. Texting wasn’t my place to shine either. I wasn’t good at conversing.

  Okay. She followed with a happy face emoji.

  My insides were on fire.

  I was having breakfast with the naked neighbour.

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  Chapter Five

  Breakfast Waltz

  I got to the breakfast café early. I didn’t really sleep the night before. Nerves had kept me up. I didn’t tell the guys I was meeting her. I had no idea how to say it aloud to myself; a gorgeous girl wanted to have breakfast with me.

  And not just any gorgeous girl, but one who had just attacked me for trying to help her out.

  And on top of that, she was someone we had all spent an awkward amount of time ogling and now she was asking me to breakfast.

  It didn’t seem real that she was asking me out. I assumed there was a chance she was trying to explain the nudity or just smooth things over. Or she was nosy and wanted to know about the drug dealer neighbours.

  The possibility she was asking me out, on a date, was slim. It was unlikely.

  And yet I was here, hoping it was why she’d messaged.

  I sat, organized the condiments on the table, drank two cups of coffee, peed, and had sanitized my hands twice since arriving.

  I was comfortable with our usual diner, but this was something else. The sticky plastic menus made me uneasy, but the smell coming from the kitchen was heaven. I was conflicted.

  When she rode up on her motorcycle, despite it being another wonderful day of weather in Raincouver, every part of my body tightened.

  I panicked, started sweating, and contemplating peeing again.

  She appeared cool as a cucumber. The sexiest cucumber I’d ever seen.

  She pulled off the helmet, shaking her shiny hair, and then strutted up to the door, unzipping her leather jacket so her tight black tee shirt with a V-neck was just visible. I might have groaned a little. It was either me or the guy two tables over. Either way, she looked good.

  She smiled wide, making my entire day as she entered and walked over.

  The guy two tables over stared, probably wondering how the hell I’d gotten a girl like that to smile at me. I was wondering it too.

  “Simon, how’s it going?” She spoke as though we were friends as she sat across from me and then turned and shouted at the server, “Hey, Fran. Can I get a coffee and a water?”

  “Sure thing,” the woman I assumed was named Fran shouted back.

  Callie sighed, settling in. “How’s it going?” She unzipped her jacket and took it off.

  “Good.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried really hard not to stare at her neck and chest.

  “I love the food here.” She leaned forward, flashing a tiny bit of cleavage at me. “It’s a dive but the cook is a magician. He makes eggs taste like heaven.”

  I stared into her eyes so hard mine started to strain. “Oh really?” I pushed my glasses up nervously. “It smells good.”

  “It always does.” She grinned. “So, what were you guys doing last night? The regular cops came by around nine, knocking on the door, looking for dipshit Carter, asking if I’d seen him anywhere. They said he hasn’t been around the gym he owns for days. The employees have no idea where he is. They’ve called him in missing.”

  “Really?” I hadn’t heard anything about Carter in a while. We’d spent the night listening to the moron, Dubhe, have conversations with his poker buddies in his living room. He didn’t go back to Carter’s house at all. He had stayed at his house almost all night and then got a cab to his girlfriend’s house to sleep.

  “D
on’t act like you don’t know. I know you’re spying on him. It’s why I asked you for breakfast.” She leaned in closer and I worked hard not to stare at her chest. “I wanted to make sure I wasn’t in some kind of danger.”

  My stomach hit the floor with a thud. “No,” I answered too quickly, hoping she didn’t see the disappointment on my face. “I don’t know. I mean, I doubt you are. I mean, drug houses are dangerous, but I doubt they know who you are.” I heard what I was saying but couldn’t get a handle on it. She’d asked me to breakfast to grill me, and I wasn’t allowed to answer anything.

  “Okay.” Her smile flashed back. “Are you always this tense?” She sat back again, eyeing me up. “You seem tense.”

  “I had a lot of coffee before you got here.”

  “You came early? That’s weird.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you like some Norman Bates dude who watches girls and then kills them but seems super innocent and cute so you get away with it? Like a Norman Bates Dexter?”

  “What?” I didn’t really understand the question.

  “You answer with that a lot.” She offered a different smile as Fran strolled up and delivered the coffee and water. “I’ll have the usual, please.” She stirred cream into her coffee.

  “Okay, and what about your friend?”

  I parted my lips to order but Callie cut me off, “He’ll have it too.” She winked at me. “Trust me.”

  I wanted to say no. I didn’t trust her, at all. I didn’t know her. But the glint in her eyes and the way she seemed excited by the notion, had me nodding my head.

  Maybe also because I was still mesmerized from seeing her naked. Twice. And it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t even close to bad.

  When Fran left, Callie whispered, leaning in again, “So do you think something happened to Carter? Is that why you’re watching his house?”

  “No.” I needed to stop answering her. I was cooler than this. Okay, I wasn’t but I needed to be. I tried to channel my inner Matt. “I don’t know what is up with Carter. I don’t know him.” It was true. “But if he’s missing and dealing drugs, then I suspect something not awesome has happened to him. It’s sort of how it goes for druggies and dealers.”

  Her eyes narrowed skeptically. “You’re telling the truth. Bummer.” She sat back and sipped her coffee. “I sort of hoped your expressive face might let something slip.”

  “Expressive?” I didn’t have much of a poker face. I didn’t need one. No one knew I existed. I had to calm down. I hated that I was so nervous about breakfast when really it was more of a work meeting.

  “So tell me something about yourself.”

  “Like what?” I didn’t enjoy questions like this.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Toronto.”

  “Oh wow, this is like the opposite side of the world almost.” She smiled again and everything was right with the world. “I’m from here. I love BC. It’s so majestic. Mountains and ocean and lakes and rivers and lush forest. We even have a desert. Did you see it?”

  I tried to follow along as best I could with her switching it so fast. “Desert? No.”

  “In Kamloops. Full on desert. Like sand dunes and shit. It’s crazy. And they get so hot in the summer, like forty degrees. We go up there and rent houseboats in the summer. They have huge lakes.”

  My brain clicked along, typing down everything she said and locking it away.

  “My brother, Andrew, is an amazing water skier. He can do tricks and shit. Dad always had cool boats, speedboats for the lakes. Have you been skiing yet?”

  “Water skiing? No.”

  “No, alpine, downhill. We have the best skiing in the whole country. I love skiing. I tried snowboarding this last year but I suck. It was frustrating going from an incredible skier to a shit snowboarder, ya know?” She chuckled.

  “No.” I sipped my coffee and watched her just spaz information.

  “You aren’t a big talker, are you?” She gave me a disappointed look. So did the guy two tables over. I was blowing it and we both knew it.

  “No, sorry. I’m kinda—”

  “Shy?” She cut me off.

  “Introverted,” I said, realizing that verbally I was like a sloth compared to her. She could talk fast and think fast, and I trailed along, trying to keep up, not thinking anything because my brain spent so much time registering.

  “Well, I can talk enough for us both.” She winked. “I’ll just rapid fire the questions. Ready?” Her eyes widened.

  “No.” I scowled but she laughed again and started.

  “Do you miss Toronto?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have family?”

  “A brother and sister and parents.” I was already panicking. It was like a verbal test, my nemesis.

  “Are you the oldest or youngest?”

  “Youngest.”

  “Did your sister make you wear girls’ clothes when you were little?”

  “Yes.” I chuckled.

  “Are you your mom’s baby still?”

  “No, but to be fair, none of us are her baby. She favours my older brother because he was a drug addict. He needed more.”

  She clapped her hands. “Ha! I got you to say a whole sentence.”

  Our food arrived, saving me from more tommy gun questioning.

  When I saw the plate I knew she was right, I needed to trust her. It was two eggs Benedict with extra home fries and a side of hollandaise, two pieces of bacon, and two sausages.

  “Wow.” I eyed her plate and mine.

  “What did you think I ordered?—be honest.” She pointed at me, cocking an eyebrow challengingly.

  “I thought maybe an egg-white omelette and some spinach or berries.”

  “Gross.” She wrinkled her nose and tucked her silky hair behind her ears, rolling up her sleeves and preparing to eat. “My brother says I eat like a hobbit.”

  “What?” That caught my attention.

  “Stop saying what, seriously. Just ask what you want to ask.”

  “Sorry.” I glanced back at the meal. “I just didn’t think you would know what a hobbit was.”

  “I am a huge Lord of the Rings fan. I love the books. I taught myself Sindarin elvish when I was eleven.” She sat back, possibly offended. “Why?”

  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” I cut up a piece of eggs Benny.

  “You think because I’m a girl I wouldn’t know that?”

  “No, because you’re—” I paused, waiting for her to cut me off but she didn’t. She waited patiently, possibly looking prettier than any girl I’d ever seen. “Beautiful.” The word felt weird in my mouth. I had never called a girl beautiful. “You ride a motorbike and wear leather pants, and I can picture you going clubbing, not having a hobbit marathon.” I tried to cover for the beautiful.

  “Oh.” She was speechless, something I might have thanked God for, if not for the fact she was staring at me.

  “I’m not sexist,” I muttered. “I know girls like fantasy.”

  “You mean science fiction.”

  “No.” I tilted my head, confused. “I mean fantasy. It’s a made-up world, not based on our world or in the future or involving some sort of scientific technology.”

  “Oh.” She blushed and glanced down at her breakfast. “I always thought those types of books were science fiction.”

  “No. Star Trek is science fiction.” I enjoyed having the upper hand for half a second.

  “I like that too. I loved Generations.”

  My chest thumped weirdly. I might take a stroke. “You do?” I pushed my glasses up again. How was this possible?

  “Yeah, God yeah. Wil Wheaton was hot when he was younger. I mean, he’s still sort of hot, but like in a dorky way. And I adored the relationships and humour. And the space travel. I always imagined it’s exactly like that out in the universe. We’re down here, living oblivious to the fact there are billions of other species and races out there we don’t even know about. And maybe we’re one of the protected planets,
like they don’t come here so they don’t accidentally interfere with us.”

  “Right. That’s how I think too.” I was so baffled I’d forgotten to eat any of my breakfast. I took my first bite and I closed my eyes, moaning as it touched my tongue. It was exactly what she said it would be. It was heaven.

  When I opened my eyes she was staring at me. Her cheeks were flushed again, or still, and her eyes were wide. I could see my own goofy reflection in them, glasses and all. “What?” I said the thing she hated. “It’s good.” I tried to cover for the what.

  “You like it?” She cleared her throat and took her own bite.

  “It’s delicious.”

  “I know, right?” She smiled and spoke through her bite. Seeing her talk with her mouth full almost made it seem possible that she was real and this was happening.

  We ate and laughed. I calmed down a little and she smiled a lot.

  When we finished and Fran brought the bill, I tried to grab it but Callie scoffed, snatching it up. “I invited you to breakfast.”

  “Well, I didn’t have any answers for you. I should pay.”

  “That’s not the only reason I asked you out, Simon.” She lost the friendliness in her eyes, becoming embarrassed again. “I wanted to thank you,” she spoke quickly. “For warning me. I went off at you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. There’s no way a pervert would have warned me about the see-through curtains. You would have kept peeking in them if you were a dirty pig. So I believe you.” She handed Fran her debit card. “And for saving me, I owe you breakfast.”

  “Well, thanks. It was good. I’m stuffed.” I rubbed my stomach. She hadn’t come close to finishing hers, but she had eaten way more than I’d expected her to. I, as usual, finished the meal. For half a second I thought about eating hers too, but I didn’t know her well enough to ask.

  “You’re welcome. And I’m sorry for coming unglued on you. I didn’t mean to be a dick.” She took back her card as Fran left us there.

  “No, I think finding out someone watched you through your windows is fairly traumatizing.” I didn’t want her to ever find out about the peeing.

  “The house next door has been empty for like a year. I honestly never imagined anyone was watching.” Her cheeks went redder. I almost sighed staring at her. “And I didn’t realize the curtains were so sheer.”