Couple Next Door Novels & Stories

"Wait." I looked away. "Is this his shirt?" I swallowed hard. “Yes." Maya just stared at me as I rubbed the back of my neck nervously. "And I found out last night that he lives next door." The room went silent. Then… "HE WHAT?!" "Lives next door.” I repeated slowly like I was reminding myself. "Next door as in same street?" "No, same building.” Her jaw dropped. "Same floor?" "Yes… ground floor." Her eyes somehow widened even further. "Ariana. You sat on a stranger's lap and he turned out to be your neighbor?"

Then, I turn and start walking away from them again. “Kaia.” He calls. At this point, I'm just going to scream. I don't stop. “We are already neighbours. Can we be friends?” He calls after me, his voice loud in the hallway. I don't stop either.

“That's my girl. Hey, blondie do you mind if I go in and take a shower?” “Go ahead,” she told him. “Grab a towel from the closet.” she pointed. He gave her a wink and followed her instructions. As she listened to the sound of the shower, she moved about the apartment, putting things in order. It would be good to have company, she decided. She rarely talks to her neighbor downstairs. The only couple in this apartment house was a French couple living on the second floor. And they weren't close to making small conversation. The shower stopped running. She was dusting and cleaning the TV when she heard the bathroom door open. She looked up.

"We just rented the apartment next door and wanted to come by and introduce ourselves." I returned their smile. "Welcome to the building! Congratulations on your new place." "Thank you," the woman replied. "We have kids—a six-year-old girl and an eight-year-old boy. We thought it would be nice to meet our neighbors." "That's wonderful," I said. "I have six-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to meet new friends." As if on cue, Zendaya and Zenith came running up to the door, curious about who was there.

I take a detour and head into the kitchen. "You are a life saver. I was just about to microwave some takeout I had Friday night." ××××××××××× "You know I'll miss the free WiFi we get from the Parkers," Kat says as soon as the credits appeared on screen. The Parkers are a married couple who moved in downstairs two months before I came. They are sweet, friendly and good company. "Yeah, I will too. I hear they're expecting a baby boy in seven months." I rest my head on the arm of the couch.

But then I reminded myself that this was a safe place, a neighborhood far removed from all the complications of our past. Opening the door, I was greeted by a warm smile from a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, holding a casserole dish in her hands. Beside her was a man with a friendly expression and two children, a boy and a girl around Daphne’s age. “Bonsoir!” the woman greeted, her French accent light and cheerful. “I’m Camille, and this is my husband, Marc. We live next door and just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

💞 Gianna’s P.o.v💞 “Hey,it seems some new people have moved in next door” Jamal said as he looked through the window. I joined him to look,i saw two people, I think they are husband and wife. They were with their luggages,while the maids were helping them with somethings. “I pray they have daughters” Jamal said and i smacked his head. “Ouch” “Jammy,you are such man-whore” i said and he chuckled.

I hid my identity as a Mafia heiress to live a quiet life. I never thought my new neighbors would be the ones to pick a fight they can’t win. I'd just gotten back from the gallery when my phone started blowing up. On the Nextdoor community forum, a woman named Brenda had @'d me. "Hey, penthouse girl. You're single. What do you need a whole rooftop garden for? My husband's throwing a party. We'll be needing it starting tomorrow."

We ate on the couch, legs touching, shoulders brushing, feeding each other bites like it was the most natural thing in the world. “So,” I said, sipping my drink, “what does one do on their first official couple day?” He grinned. “Everything. Slowly.” We walked hand in hand through the neighborhood, stopping for coffee, laughing at nothing, stealing glances like teenagers. At the grocery store, he leaned in and whispered, “Do couples argue about brands or is that later?” I laughed. “Later. We’re still in the cute phase.” He smiled. “Good. I plan to enjoy this phase excessively.”

The specific, hungry want of her wife’s taste, her wife’s surrender. The trip had been a much needed honeymoon.Two weeks in a remote luxury resort, a bubble of heat and cedar against the endless white. They’d arrived that afternoon, the tension a live wire between them from the moment the door clicked shut. A shared shower that was more tease than cleanse, a slow, deliberate unpacking where hands lingered on zippers and skin. They’d made it through an almost kiss and now it all came crashing out like a broken flood gate.