Meet Me By The Dock

Chapter 5

I squeezed my eyes as tightly as I squeezed the hose. "Get out of my yard!" I screamed.

"Lilah? What-" Their sentence was drowned out by the hose.

I chucked the orange and heard a thump, not bad for a blind shot.

"Ow, Lilah, what the hell?"

Wait.

How do they know my name?

Holy god, I knew that voice.

I dropped the hose with a gasp.

Matthew Remington stood before me, wiping the water off his face.

He was shirtless.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, "What are you doing in my yard?" I asked, my voice shrill, "Are you stalking me?"

"Your  yard? What- no I'm not stalking you." He replied breathlessly. He ran his hand through wet hair and slicked it back out of his eyes.

"Yes, my  yard, what are you doing here?" I tried to keep my voice calm when I felt like slapping the answers out of him.

"I was getting my ball," he gestured to the volleyball behind me, "This is my yard."

"Oh my god your gas lighting me-" I started.

"Lilah-" He tried to cut me off.

"Oh my god you're a crazy stalker!" I yelled, pointing at him.

"Lilah!" my eyes snapped to his, "I. Am. Not. Stalking. You. I didn't even know your name until yesterday."

"You would know my name if you were a crazy stalker." I bit my lip.

"Key word, if, but again— not a crazy stalker, also, this is my yard!"

"What are you-" and then it all clicked, "Oh my god, you live there." I pointed to the house neighboring mine that I saw him carrying boxes into.

"Yes, so this is my yard-" I watched as realization hit him, "And that," he finished, "Is your house."

"Yeah."

"So we're neighbors?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"What are the odds, huh?"

"Yeah." I replied quietly, still mortified at what I had done.

He chuckled, "Has your vocabulary suddenly reduced to 'yeah'?"

"Would you be mad if I said yeah?" I grinned.

"Of course not Lilah, how could I be mad at you?" he smirked and looked down at himself, still dripping with water.

I blushed but turned away so he hopefully wouldn't notice. I grabbed a towel hanging over the back of a chair.

I turned back and threw it at him, he caught it and started drying off his hair.

"Uhm- sorry about the, uhm- water."

He smiled as he dried his arms, "Don't worry about it, I was planning on taking a dip anyway."

"But still," I threw an orange at him, "the water must have been cold."

"Oh, it was," he shot me another lopsided grin, "But it will make for some good dramatic effect for when I tell my grandkids this story someday," he picked up the orange next to him, "nice throw by the way." He tossed it to me.

I caught it, "So what were you doing out here anyway?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"I was planning on practicing some volleyball but then my crazy neighbor sprayed me with her hose."

I shook my head solemnly, "Yeah, they really should keep her on a leash."

He laughed and it made my stomach feel weird, "What about you?" He asked.

"Oh I don't know, I was probably going to read or something." I responded. absentmindedly, trying— but failing— to stare anywhere but his naked torso.

He slung the towel over his shoulder, "Oh yeah? Read what?" He stared at me intently like he was genuinely interested on what I was going to read on this random Tuesday in June.

Well I was planning on reading some trashy romance novel, I thought. But I settled on one of my more intellectual books I packed, "Pride and Prejudice." It was my favorite, after all.

"Jane Austen?" He asked, eyes wide, "I love Pride and Prejudice."

"What?" I sputter.

Okay that's not where I thought this was going.

But I'm not complaining.

–

"Wait, so the grunting was just you singing?" I ask incredulously.

"Humming." He corrects me.

"Right— humming, the grunting was just you humming?" I ask again, still grinning at him.

He shakes his head and exhales, "What do you want me to say?" He asks, laughing, "I was humming I Did Something Bad— It's a low song, lots of bass." He shifts against the dock beam, I sit across from him, my back resting on its own beam. Our legs meet in the middle a few inches from each other.

"I Did Something Bad?" I question.

"Yeah, by Taylor Swift."

I shake my head and he gapes at me. "Seriously? Nothing? Doesn't ring a bell?" He asks.

I shake my head solemnly, "I don't really listen to Taylor Swift." I say sheepishly.

"You know Lilah, sometimes I think we can be friends and then you go and say something like that." He shakes his head, pretending to be angry.

I tilt my head back and laugh and he stares at me with a small smile playing at his lips, "Okay but really, nothing?" He sits forward, "Paper rings? Illicit affairs? I Wish You Would?"

I shake my head after each, "Apologies Remington, I only really know Shake It Off."

"Okay well that's a start!" He yells over me laughing, "Mark my words Lilah Grace you will be a certified Swiftie by the end of the summer."

"Okay but does this require a blood oath or something because that is where I draw the line." I say.

"Fine we can skip that part," He sighs, "but you're really twisting my arm."

I shrug, "So you're staying until the end of the summer?" I don't really know how to feel about that.

On one hand he's going to disturb my only months of peace, and I will probably end up killing him with his own volleyball.

On the other— he's starting to grow on me.

"Yeah, my parents bought the place because the woman who lived there died and the husband moved away."

Fantastic another death, I think morbidly, I should start a list.

"I hope this doesn't affect your Jane Austen reading."

I smile, "Oh don't worry Remington, if you get in the way of my Jane Austen reading you'll be the first one out."

"Understandable." He nods.

"Mattie!" A female voice calls from his house.

Matthew's head perks up and he turns around, "Yeah, Mom?"

"Get up here and set the table." She yells.

He laughs, "Okay, coming!"

He stands and offers a hand to me, I take it. His hands are surprisingly soft, I thought.

Again, that's creepy Lilah.

He holds onto my hand a beat longer than necessary.

"Okay," I say, pulling my hand away and slipping it into my back pocket, "I guess I'll see you around." I offer him a smile.

Don't be awkward, don't be awkward, don't be awkward.

He chuckles, "I guess so."