The Boy Next Door

Maya’s hands were still shaking when she shoved the key into the lock of 14B.

The apartment smelled like fresh paint and someone else’s life. Boxes sat in uneven stacks against the living-room wall. The only furniture she owned was a mattress on the floor and the cheap coffee maker she’d bought that morning. She dropped her last duffel bag, kicked the door shut with her heel, and finally let out the breath she’d been holding since she crossed the city limits.

Home.

Or whatever was left of it.

She walked straight to the sliding glass door and yanked the curtains open. Afternoon light flooded the small balcony. Across the narrow strip of grass that separated the two buildings, the neighboring balcony was already occupied.

Noah Carter stood there in nothing but black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, a half-empty water bottle in one hand, the other braced on the railing. Sweat still gleamed on his chest and the deep cut of his abs. His dark hair was damp and pushed back like he’d just finished a workout. He looked up the second the curtains moved.

Their eyes locked.

For three full seconds neither of them moved.

Then Noah’s mouth curved into the slowest, dirtiest smile Maya had ever seen on him.

“Well, shit,” he called across the gap, voice deeper than she remembered. “Look who finally came home.”

Maya’s stomach flipped so hard she felt it between her legs. She lifted her chin and forced her voice to stay steady.

“Noah.”

He tilted his head, studying her the way he used to study complicated math problems in high school—except now the look was pure heat. “You got taller. Or maybe I just forgot how good you look when you’re pretending you don’t want to look at me.”

She should have closed the curtains. Instead she stepped out onto the balcony, arms crossed under her breasts. The thin white tank top she’d been moving in all day suddenly felt see-through.

“I live here now,” she said. “That going to be a problem?”

Noah pushed off the railing and walked closer until only six feet of open air separated them. Up close she could see the faint scar on his left collarbone, the one he’d gotten falling out of the oak tree in her old backyard when they were fifteen. The rest of him had changed. Harder. Bigger. Hungrier.

“Problem?” He dragged his gaze down her body without even pretending to hide it—lingering on the strip of stomach showing above her shorts, the way her nipples had tightened against the tank top. “Baby, it’s the best news I’ve had all year.”

Maya’s pulse hammered in her throat. “Don’t call me baby.”

“Why not?” He leaned his forearms on the railing, muscles flexing. “You used to like it when I whispered it against your neck behind the bleachers.”

The memory hit her like a slap—summer night, stolen beer, his mouth on her throat and his hand sliding under her shirt while the whole neighborhood watched a movie on the lawn. They’d never gone further than that. She’d left for college two weeks later and never looked back.

Until now.

“That was a long time ago,” she said, quieter than she meant to.

Noah’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. It was.” He paused, then added, low and rough, “I’ve thought about finishing what we started every single night since.”

The air between the balconies felt charged, thick. Maya’s thighs pressed together without her permission. She hated how easily her body remembered him.

A car door slammed somewhere below. Reality crashed back in.

She took a step away from the railing. “I have boxes to unpack.”

“Need help?”

“No.”

Noah’s smile turned wicked. “Offer’s open. Day or night. Especially night.”

Maya turned and walked back inside before she did something stupid like invite him over. She slid the door shut hard enough that the glass rattled, but she didn’t close the curtains. She could still feel his eyes on her through the glass.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. A text from an unknown number.

**Unknown:**

Still got the same number, Reyes.

Lock your door tonight.

Or don’t.

Your call.

She stared at the message until the screen went dark.

Then she typed back with shaking fingers.

**Maya:**

Stay on your side of the grass, Carter.

The reply came almost instantly.

**Noah:**

For now.

Maya set the phone down, heart slamming against her ribs, and pressed her thighs together again.

This was going to be a problem.

A very wet, very dangerous problem.