I take the few steps to my kitchen at the back of the house. It looks like it was last renovated in the seventies, and has great features like grim-coated dark wood cupboards and a gold fleck counter.
As soon as I get some more cash, I'm having it ripped out and replaced with oak cupboards and granite. There, next time I need motivation, I should just come down here.
Returning to the living room, I set one of the glasses of water down in front of Piper and hold the other glass in my hand.
She's taken the same spot on the couch again, so I sit in my armchair.
It's been a week since Piper was last here. I've been busy settling in and getting myself organized. The only place I've been is the grocery store so I haven't checked the town out much or met anyone else.
Piper's dad keeps a low profile, and the only time I see him is when I spot him in his backyard from my fake bedroom window.
Though I'm not even sure I can be bothered to meet him, he was so rude that night. Figures I'd end up with some dick neighbor. At least the kid is cool.
"Avery, did you know almonds are poisonous? In some countries, you can't buy more than ten pounds of almonds at once, because if you ate it all, you would die. It's one of the most poisonous poisons," she says.
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Of course."
I make a mental note to Google that later.
"Do you ever see your mom?"
"Never even met her. It's just been me and my dad my entire life."
He's never had any long-term girlfriends? I find that hard to believe, given how gorgeous he is. Although it serves him right, since he grunts instead of talking.
"Would you rather eat ten pounds of almonds or drink a cup of water from the toilet?"
"Definitely the almonds."
"But you might die."
"I think I'd puke before I got to that stage."
Piper comes out with all sorts of random facts, most of which I'm unsure whether to believe.
She picks up her glass, downs the rest of the liquid and sets it back down on the table. Wiping her mouth with her arm, she looks at me and says, "Can you help me buy a bra? I don't know how to pick the right size, and neither does my dad."
I'm taken aback and speechless for a moment.
"Sure, of course," I say.
How could I say no?
"Can we go to Target on Saturday?"
"Absolutely. As long as it's okay with your father."
I change the subject, and we talk about other things. The doorbell rings just after seven.
Piper leaps up and says, "That's my dad."
At least the doorbell is an improvement over banging on the door.
I get off my old leather chair and follow Piper to the door. She flings it open, and her father stands on the doorstep. He's wearing a tight, black t-shirt that molds to the form of his muscular body. I try not to stare, but he also has a number of tattoos poking out of the sleeves.
"Good evening," I say, forcing my eyes to stay above his neck.
"Sorry my daughter keeps bothering you," he says with a scowl. It's an improvement over grunting.
"Dad," Piper protests.
"It's no problem, honestly. It's nice to get to know my new neighbors," I say, smiling.
"I'll make sure she doesn't bother you again."
"She doesn't bother me," I say, tousling her hair. "In fact, is it okay if I take her shopping on Saturday?"
He screws his face up and glancing between me and Piper. He asks, "Why?"
"She's going to buy me a bra. Right, Avery?" Piper says.
His face drops, and he says, "I'll think about it."
"It's no problem, honestly. I know men can't figure out girl stuff. She needs someone to take her shopping."
"I can raise my daughter just fine," he says, snarling. Without pause, he takes her hand and pulls her towards their house.
"Hey Piper, what's your dad's name?" I call out as they cut across my lawn.
She looks behind her, the streetlight sparkling in her eyes and a hesitant smile on her face, "Knox."
"Nice to meet you, Knox," I call out.
He grunts without looking back.
Knox
I'm still pissed at the way Avery spoke to me last night.
It's late afternoon and Piper should be home from school soon. Her friend's mother is dropping her off this afternoon because I'm behind schedule on getting this '71 Mustang finished for a client.
My driveway goes all the way from the road, between my house and Avery's and ends in a well-equipped garage I had built in my backyard.
The scarlet car is half out of my garage. The hood is up and I'm bent over the running engine, listening, figuring out how to make it purr.
But I can't get my mind off Piper. She's turning into a young woman, and I feel in over my head more now than at any other point in raising her.
And I've had a lot of days of feeling in over my head.
For starters, what did a twenty-two-year old guy know about raising a baby? I figured it out. I had to.
Just like I have to figure out how to be the best parent to her now.
How the fuck do I know how to size a bra? I know how to take them off, not put them on.
But is this Avery chick the right person to take Piper bra shopping? Piper seems to like her, but the woman is all over the internet telling men how to treat a pussy.
Except she doesn't even say pussy. She calls it a kitten in all her videos. Not that I've watched all of them, there are hundreds. I only watched the ones that sounded interesting. Like Dirty Talker and Spank Her Stupid.
I admit I've had to break down and spank myself a few times. Avery's voice alone sends shivers down my spine. Hearing that voice and her mock dirty talk went straight to my cock.
Plus my balls are bluer than blue since I lost my babysitter and now rush home to Piper, instead of hanging around to fuck some chick after the classic car rides.
Even if the words Avery says in her videos are stupid. I don't know who she's been fucking, but it isn't anyone who knows what they're doing.
I could certainly teach her a thing or two.
Except it's her. Thinking she can judge me about my ability to be a good parent.
Fuck her.
I've been killing myself for years to give Piper the best I can. Now Miss-know-it-all-about-sex waltzes in next door and immediately starts commenting on my ability to be a father.
Tells Piper she needs to take her shopping for girl shit. Because I'm not good enough.
Fuck her.
"Hey," Avery says. I'd recognize her silky voice anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?
I duck out from under the hood and stand to my full height. Avery's standing there in tight jeans and a button top that doesn't quite have enough buttons done up. A can of beer is in each of her hands.
"Want one?" she says, holding a beer out to me.
"What do you want?" I say, ignoring the beer.
"We're new neighbors, and haven't met properly. I thought I'd come over and formally introduce myself," she says, still holding up the beer.
"We've met twice, remember?"
"I don't know if those really counted. After all you didn't even tell me your name."
"You know it, but I'll tell you it again if you want. It's Knox. Satisfied?"
"Well I'm just so glad I moved to this new town where I don't know anyone, and of all the people in this world, I moved to the house beside yours."
Goddamn it, what is her problem?
"Lucky you," I say.
Avery huffs, and drops the hand holding the beer to her side.
"Fine. You don't want to be a civil neighbor, whatever, but Piper has asked for me to take her shopping. She's lacking something," She pauses before adding, "Obviously."
"Obviously?" I raise my eyebrows and smirk at her.
She sighs. "Can we just not talk about this? For Piper?"
I take a breath, blocking out the effect her voice is having on my cock. She's right. As much as she annoys the hell out of me, Piper is what matters. And if she's right and Piper was the one who asked her for the shopping trip, then I need to let it happen.
Moving around the car, I lean in and cut the engine. I stand again, and grab her eyes in mine. Holding them, I move closer to her, lean and grab the beer from her hand. Avery's lips slightly part as she watches me open the can and take a sip.
"Okay, you want us to meet? I restore classic cars for a living. What do you do?"
I lean back against the Mustang and hold the can to my lips. This should be interesting.
"I'm a writer."
"A writer?"
"Yeah, like an author." She says it like I don't even know what a book is.
"What do you write about? Smut?" She flinches when I emphasize the word smut.
"No," she says with nervous laughter, "I write about murder-mystery stuff, you know?"
"So, no naughty parts?"
"Um, no." Avery looks like she doesn't know whether to be more offended, confused or outraged.
At least she isn't going around telling people what she really does. This relaxes me. She won't tell Piper.
"Got any pets?" I ask, stifling a smirk.
"No pets."
"No plans to get a kitten?"
"I hadn't thought about it." She has no idea what I'm referring to.
"Kittens are lots of fun to play with, but get annoying once you're done playing with them," I say.
"I've never had one." She looks at me sideways. Maybe she's catching on.
A black Tahoe pulls across the end of my driveway and the rear door flings open.
"Avery!" Piper says, running from her friend's SUV.
I raise my hand to thank the mother for driving her home.