My Neighbor Joel

✧*̥˚ Mind Your Manners *̥˚✧

Kes

I wake up to the smell of something savory wafting through the house and assaulting my senses. I roll over and check the time–6:30am. Joel is already awake and cooking something delicious downstairs.

I lay back down and stretch out the length of my body, paying careful attention to all the parts that feel amazing. I glance at my wrists–rope marks line the delicate skin, shining like a badge of honor. I hoped that I would have evidence of last night, just to remind me that it actually happened. We didn’t have sex, unfortunately, but last night elevated our relationship. Whatever that meant.

I stretch one last time, taking note of all the places on my body that feel relief. It has been months–no, years– since I have felt this satisfied. What is astonishing to me is that I can feel this remarkable after a night of anything-but-sex.

I grab my phone off the nightstand to check my emails. Instead, I am barraged with multiple texts from DO NOT ANSWER. Fuck, that was my ex-boyfriend Jax. I steady my breath and prepare to open the messages.

(12:32am) DO NOT ANSWER: Baby, let’s work this out, I miss you.

(12:56am) DO NOT ANSWER: Kes, don’t ignore me. I need to hear from you.

(1:20am) DO NOT ANSWER: Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?!

(1:45am) DO NOT ANSWER: Fuck you, fine. I will find out where you live and we can work this out face-to-face.

(1:46am) DO NOT ANSWER: You won’t be able to ignore me forever, Kes. I’ll make damn sure of that.

I throw my phone across the room. I do not need this ruining a perfectly good morning. Still, his threats do not feel empty. If there is one thing I know about Jax, it is that he is resourceful as hell–he will find a way, it was just a matter of how long.

I shake my head trying my best to suppress these thoughts. It is too much to handle. A stray tear escapes my waterline and I quickly wipe my eyes so that I look presentable before I head downstairs to find Joel.

He is downstairs in the kitchen, chopping up spring onion and sprinkling some on top of a gorgeous omelet. He is wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and my kitty apron–which is two sizes too small. I try to stifle a laugh, but am unsuccessful.

My outburst alerted Joel to my presence, and he turns to gaze at me with his signature half-smirk.
“Good mornin’, Darlin,” he says cooly. His smoothe southern drawl seeps into my bones. I could listen to it all day long. “Did you sleep okay?” Joel asks cautiously.

I smile, “Yes, actually. I slept really well. Thank you.” I know my smile does not reach my eyes because he looks at me unconvincingly. I don’t really want to bring my baggage into this conversation, especially so early in the morning. All I can hope is that Joel leaves it alone, for now. I will tell him eventually.

He looks at me a second longer before motioning towards the bar stools. “Sit,” He says sternly.

He doesn’t have to ask me twice, I’ve learned that he likes it when I’m obedient. I sit down and patiently wait for my breakfast.

“I hope you don’t mind I raided your fridge,” Joel says as he sets down a magazine-worthy omelet dish with peppers, caramelized onions, mushrooms, bacon, tomato, and fresh herbs.