Free The Voyeur Next Door by Airicka Phoenix

working my brains to soup at school, I had no idea who I was. It was the first time in twenty-three years where I got to do what I wanted, where I was the boss of me. But the time for fun and games was over. I had to join the world of the responsible adult.
    “Okay,” I said. “But I have one condition.”
    Gabriel gave an almost imperceptible nod.
    “I only work until six.”

    Gabriel didn’t ask why. Maybe he figured I had some hot social life, or maybe he was at the point where he would agree to anything to appease his grandfather. Either way, I was relieved. I wasn’t sure how to explain my after hour curricular activities to him. I highly doubted neighbor watching would classify as a normal hobby. I didn’t think he would understand. But I paid for my things—paying double for the eggs to cover the cost of the ones I annihilated across the dairy aisle floor—and left the grocery store. Gabriel didn’t follow. He turned his cart in the opposite direction after our talk and disappeared through the throng of frustrated mothers and screaming children.
    At home, I packed everything away and made my way into the bedroom with a fruit cup and a spoon. I turned the TV on to some random channel, then made my way to the terrace doors. I pushed them open and stood watching the blank windows. It was still early, too early for anyone to be home. Even Large, Hairy Man had a day job. His battered and severely dented recliner sat lonely and empty in the shabby state of his apartment. But my main focus was the patio straight across from mine. A hot surge of liquid desire coursed through me and pooled in my center. I felt the clench of my muscles grasping for something that wasn’t there and I forgot all about my fruit cup.
    Could I? Could I call him and set up a time to meet and fuck? Could I really be that daring? While I wasn’t some wilting wallflower, I wasn’t exactly a leap into the lion’s den kind of girl either. It took a year for me to let my last boyfriend get into my pants. I wouldn’t even wear shorts around him. When we did finally have sex, the lights were off and the curtains were drawn. But I had a feeling it wouldn’t be like that with Sexy, New Neighbor. He would want to see everything and that scared the holy hell out of me. How was I supposed to let him look at this body when even I couldn’t?
    No. The best thing to do would be to ignore his request. I would send him a note back, saying thank you, but I wasn’t interested, which was such a lie. I didn’t think I had ever been more interested in anything in my life. I wanted more of the previous night. I wanted to feel that rush. I wanted him to watch.
    Clearly, I had problems.
    I opted for the coward’s way out. I walked back into the apartment and flopped down on the bed to pretend to watch the weather channel with my fruit cup. All the while, my gaze and attention kept darting to the alarm clock. My subconscious slowly counted down the hours that eased by until seven. By six forty-five, I was nervous enough to piss myself. I was trembling and cotton mouthed like I’d spent the day licking the carpet. My stomach writhed with anxiety and anticipation and the fruit cup was making a comeback. I still hadn’t made up my mind and the quicker time ran out, the more I wanted to scream in frustration.
    Call me at seven, he’d said. Well, what if I needed more time? He hadn’t even given me an option. Why couldn’t he have said between seven and infinity? What the hell was I supposed to do?
    “Okay, pull yourself together,” I told myself with a firmness that surprised even me. “You will call him and tell him you’re not that kind of girl.”
    And what the hell kind of girl was I? I wondered lamely. The day before, I hadn’t believed I was the sort to finger myself out in public either and yet … so I clearly couldn’t use that excuse. Well, maybe I didn’t need an excuse. I was a grown woman and if I didn’t want to sleep with a stranger,