The neighbor three doors away

Theo lives three doors down from me on the second floor. He’s quiet and polite and respectful towards everyone. I’ve noticed him since move in. Not in a way I would ever say out loud. Just noticed.

He offered to drive a group of us to a concert because he has a truck and parking downtown is expensive and he was going anyway. My friends and I piled into the back seat and Theo drove and I sat behind him and watched his hands on the steering wheel for forty minutes and thought about what they would feel like on me and then told myself to stop.

The concert was good. Loud and sweaty and the band played an encore and by the end of it I was buzzing. Happy. A little reckless in the way I get sometimes when the music is good and the night feels like it belongs to me.

My friends got a ride home with somebody they knew. I didn’t. I told them I’d find Theo and get a ride back and they said okay and left and then I was standing in the parking lot texting him.

“They left. Can I ride with you?”

“I’m in row G. Blue truck.”

I found him leaning against the tailgate drinking water. He smiled when he saw me. Not a big smile. Just a quiet one. The kind that changes his whole face.

We drove back to campus. He played something quiet on the speakers. We talked about the concert and then about music and then about things that had nothing to do with music. He told me about growing up on a farm and I told him about my church and how I don’t go anymore and he said he understood and he didn’t push for details. I liked that about him. He lets things sit.

He parked outside our building. The lot was mostly empty. It was after midnight and the street was quiet and neither of us got out. We just sat there talking. The dashboard lights made everything soft and I could smell him. Something clean. Laundry detergent and whatever he naturally smells like. Warm.

We talked for an hour. I don’t know how. Time stopped working. He told me about his mom and I told him about mine and then somehow we were talking about relationships and he said he was single and I said me too and the truck got very quiet.

“I should probably go inside” I said.

“Probably.”

Neither of us moved.

I looked at his hands on the steering wheel again. They were big. His fingers were thick and his knuckles were prominent and his forearms were the kind of forearms you get from actual work, not from the gym. I was staring and he caught me and I didn’t look away.

“What” he said.

“You have nice hands.”

He laughed. A low sound that I felt in my stomach. “Thanks.”

I was looking at his hands and then I was looking at his lap and I could see the outline of him through his jeans. He was either hard or he was just big. Both probably. I stared longer than I should have and he noticed.

“Rosalie” he said. Soft.

“Can I” I said. I didn’t finish the sentence. I looked at him and he looked at me and I could feel my heart in my throat and that background noise in my head was starting up. The one that says you shouldn’t. The one that I keep not listening to.

“Yeah” he said.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned across the center console. My hands were shaking when I unbuttoned his jeans. I’ve done this before. A few times. But not with someone who lives three doors down. Not with someone I might have to see every morning in the hallway.

I pulled him out and my breath caught. He was big. Really big. Thick and heavy in my hand and I could feel him pulsing. I wrapped my hand around him and I couldn’t close my fingers all the way.

“You don’t have to” he started.

“I want to.”

I licked the tip. He tasted clean and warm and I felt his whole body tense. I opened my mouth and took him in and he was stretching my jaw. I had to breathe through my nose and focus and take him slow. He put his hand on the back of my head. Not pushing. Just resting there. Heavy and warm.

I took him deeper. My eyes were watering and my jaw was aching and I could feel him in my throat and I couldn’t take all of him. I tried. I gagged slightly and pulled back and tried again and he groaned and his hips shifted.

“Fuck” he said. Barely above a whisper.

I worked him with my mouth and my hand. I stroked what I couldn’t fit and I hollowed my cheeks and I listened to the sounds he was making. Low. Controlled. He was trying to be quiet because the windows were cracked and we were in the parking lot of our dorm building and anyone could walk by.

I sucked harder. I was into it. I was into the size of him and the way he tasted and the way his hand tightened in my hair when I hit a good angle. He was thick enough that my jaw was going to be sore tomorrow and I didn’t care. I wanted it to be sore. I wanted to feel it.

His breathing got faster. His thighs tensed under my hand and I could feel his cock swelling in my mouth.

“I’m gonna” he said.

I didn’t pull off. He came in my mouth and it was a lot. I swallowed what I could and some of it leaked down my chin and onto his jeans and he was shaking. His hand was still in my hair and his head was back against the headrest and he was breathing like he’d sprinted.

I sat back up. Wiped my chin with the back of my hand. He looked at me with an expression I’m going to remember for a long time. Soft. Stunned. Grateful in a way he wasn’t going to say.

“Goodnight Theo” I said.

“Goodnight” he said. His voice cracked on the second syllable.

I got out of the truck and walked to the building and my legs were a little shaky. Not from anything physical. Just from the adrenaline and the wanting and the way his hand felt in my hair.

I got to my room. Sat on my bed. Texted my friend.

“I owe you one for canceling tonight.”

She sent back a string of question marks. I turned my phone over and stared at the ceiling and I could still taste him. I could still feel the ache in my jaw.

Three doors down. I’m going to see him in the hallway tomorrow morning. He’s going to say good morning. And I’m going to say it back and try not to think about the way he said fuck in that truck and I’m going to fail completely.