How (Not) To Date Your Neighbor

JAKE

Jake stood in front of his evidence board. He'd already tacked up the reports from his next case in the queue.

His sweats hung low on his hips as his eyes fluttered closed. Some people couldn’t sleep after the adrenaline rush of a chase.

Jake could. He wanted to.

He was too dead to the world to even consider feeding himself. Cold pizza sat on a greasy paper plate on the ground. His badge lay next to it.

He had enough in the tank, as long as he didn't stop, sit down, or start another activity. Eating counted as another activity.

He had no appetite anyway.

Jake stared at the photo.

The evidence board was in the middle of his living room. He'd had plenty of space to bring it in. Just a couch, a TV that probably still turned on, his bench and weights in the spare room, and—well—

Jake wondered if he should cancel his renter's insurance. It wasn't like there was a lot to be stolen or destroyed in here. He could be saving a few hundred bucks a year.

The counter was big enough for him to eat. The bed was comfortable. He spent most of his time at work, and liked it that way.

He tapped his fingers on his thigh and blinked hard.

Fuck. Everything was getting blurry.

Maybe he should start another pot of coffee. He’d lost count of his intake, but his heart didn’t feel like it was about to burst out of his chest, so…

Plus, he had a perp to catch. Or multiple perps. He wasn’t sure yet. Most likely one—yeah, he was leaning towards one. His eyes scanned the tacked-up pages, never lingering too long on the photos.

A couple was dead. Their child, unharmed. That kid deserved justice.

Did it hit a little close to home? Not at all. His personal history had nothing to do with his need to solve this case.

He was doing this because it was his job. He was doing this because someone had to stop psychos from destroying good people's lives.

Who could possibly be more motivated than him?

The sound of the apartment door across the hall caught his attention. It opened loudly—jammed, probably, like his.

This place was falling apart, but the price was right. From how close it sounded, he could only guess it was the new neighbor.

He'd noticed her the day she moved in, though he'd pretended not to. Long dark hair, pretty hazel eyes—she was hard to miss. Which was ridiculous, considering that he had at the very least one whole foot on her.

She was cute as hell every time he spotted her. And he’d seen her a few times—at the mailbox, in the hallway, at the laundromat around the corner.

But Jake had also caught glimpses of her with a guy. The same guy, every time, which meant she did relationships.

Fine by him. He didn't do relationships. Really, he shouldn't even do one night stands or friends with benefits.

She was cute. He had noticed her. End of story.

His phone buzzed, interrupting the quiet. Jake picked it up without checking the screen.

"Jakey!" singsonged a familiar voice.

Son of a bitch. He should have checked fucking caller ID.

"Oli, what do you want?"

Another voice joined the first one. "See, Oliver, I told you he’d be pissed."

Of course Liam was also on the call. His cousins were twins. There wasn't a single thing they couldn't do together, including nagging him or getting married. They’d always been two peas in a pod, ever since they were little.

"Meh, he’s always pissed off," Oliver said to Liam. "We’re going out for drinks tonight, are you coming?"

Jake hesitated.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to hang out with his cousins. He loved them like brothers. They were like his brothers. They had been raised together, after…well.

"I’ve got work in a couple of hours," Jake said.

"He says as if he hasn’t been working since he got home," Liam quipped.

"I’m not—"

"So you’re saying if I were to walk into your apartment right now…you'd not be staring at your stupid little board?"

Jake rubbed his face. "I…"

First, the board wasn’t stupid. It improved his efficiency a lot when he had to work from home. Second, well how the fuck was he supposed to tell Liam he was wrong when he wasn’t?

He took too long. His overworked brain was unable to come up with an excuse that sounded valid.

"Oh my god," howled Oliver, "you are staring at your board. For fuck’s sake, Jake! Get a hobby! Get a life! Get laid!"

"He is getting laid—sometimes," Liam said mockingly.

"Yeah, right. Jake, I do not say this lightly: even banging Loveless is better than the sad pathetic shit you’re up to now."

Jake gritted his teeth. He wouldn't respond to the not-so-subtle shots at his lifestyle. His FWB arrangement with Taylor, his partner at the station, was the one sort-of-distraction he allowed.

It wasn't a relationship. He had been up front about that. She had agreed.

It wasn’t like she had done anything strange. It was simply that sometimes, it kind of felt like she had expectations. More than she had divulged at the beginning.

"He should get a girlfriend!" Oliver said.

"Why call me if you just want to talk to each other?" Jake snapped.

"True," Liam agreed. "Loveless might do it out of pity. Want us to ask for you, or is that too pathetic?"

"Not that I don’t enjoy being insulted, but I’m hanging up now."

"If you blow us off, we’re gonna tell Aunt Shelly," said Liam slyly.

Ah, fuck. The ace up their sleeve.

She was Aunt Shelly to him. She was ~Mom~ to them. And to him, honestly. He had never brought himself to call her that out loud, but she had raised his sorry ass.

"Don’t you fucking dare," he growled.

This was low even for them. He didn’t care about a lot of things, but he cared about Aunt Shelly.

Other people, his idiot cousins included, could think whatever they wanted about his life, but not her. The thought of upsetting her…

"Oh, could you imagine how worried Mom might be?" Oliver asked with fake concern.

"So worried," Liam agreed. "Maybe she'll have to visit, to check up on you."

"Making her come all the way to you in her retirement…what an ungrateful child! We'd never do that to her, that's for sure."

Jake squeezed his nose.

No please, keep digging the knife in, that’s what I need.

Now he would have to go out for drinks. He had lived with the two dipshits long enough to know they didn't make empty threats.

"Fine," he gritted, "you win. But you're promising not to say anything to her. Don't even think about—"

A scream pierced the air. Instantly Jake's instincts kicked in. Adrenaline surged, making him forget he'd ever been tired. His brain had already blocked out whatever Oliver and Liam were saying.

That was definitely coming from next door.

Had someone broken in? No. He passed by her door to get to his…he would have noticed a sign of forced entry…

Except he hadn't looked. He hadn't paid attention, too exhausted to clock what was going on around him.

Shit.

"Earth to Jake!" Oliver was yelling into the receiver. "What the fuck is going on over there? You okay?"

Another scream echoed down the hall. He hadn't hallucinated it.

"Oli—I have to go," he barely managed to say.

He didn't remember hanging up. He was already headed for the door. His instincts were screaming.

A chill ran down his spine—weapon, he needed a weapon—baseball bat by the entryway. He grabbed it and sprinted into the corridor.

He reached his neighbor’s door. Uncertainty gripped him. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe she had banged her toes or dropped something.

Then another, louder scream pierced through the door.

She was in danger. She needed help. Fuck it.

In a heartbeat, he slammed his body against the door and splintered it open.