The Neighbor: Part One & Two
By Heidi Lowe
4/5
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About this ebook
The Neighbor - The Complete 2-part series
Part One - “You have the misfortune of living next door to Azalea's very own Cleopatra. The little harlot who'll sleep with anything that moves.”
After ending my marriage and uprooting my teenage son to my hometown against his wishes, I knew things would be tough at first. But with the good weather, the chance to be close to my parents, and the opportunity to reconnect with old friends, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
And it was, until she came into my life. The infamous Casey Adams, a woman who'd succeeded in turning the whole street against her just by being irresistible. I wasn't going to let her get under my skin...
But it's difficult when she's always there, right next door, being so friendly and beautiful, being the opposite of what everyone described. Awakening within me feelings I didn't know existed.
Who can resist that?
Part Two - “She'll take everything from you, bleed you dry, spit you out and move on to the next gullible person who gives her the time of day. Staying away from her from now on is your best option.”
Getting closer to Casey was a choice; falling for her was out of my control. Everyone warned me to stay away from her. But that just made me want her even more. For the first time in my life I was letting my body do the thinking.
And now I could lose everything. My comfortable life, my family. All because I fell for the wrong person; all because I fell for a woman. Now I have to choose – love or acceptance.
The Neighbor is a 2-part steamy lesbian romance series.
Heidi Lowe
Heidi Lowe writes steamy lesbian fiction.
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Reviews for The Neighbor
13 ratings2 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A very enjoyable read. Good characters, good story. Read it in one go.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5WTF?! Sabrina has no backbone and has mistreated this neighbour of hers, Casey, quite badly only to the point to play with her emotions time and time again.
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The Neighbor - Heidi Lowe
The Neighbor: Part One & Two
by Heidi Lowe
Published by Heidi Lowe Books, 2016.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE NEIGHBOR: PART ONE & TWO
First edition. June 7, 2016
Copyright © 2016 Heidi Lowe
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For exclusive content, discounts, and news of upcoming titles,
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CONTENTS
TITLE
PART ONE
PART TWO
BOOKS BY HEIDI LOWE
PART ONE
Do you remember which box the coffee maker was in, because I've been through the Kitchen Box two times and–
I put it in one of the miscellaneous boxes.
My son didn't even look up from his phone when he spoke, telling me everything I needed to know about what he thought of me – his texting session was more entertaining than I was.
Cardboard boxes were piled and stacked all around our new living-room, bits and pieces of our old life sticking out every which way. I now regretted assigning the task of labeling the boxes to my reluctant teenage son, whose scrawled writing was barely legible.
Which ones are the miscellaneous boxes?
I don't know,
he said impatiently. Why don't you just look.
I glowered at him. You're being really unhelpful right now, Adrian.
That was me holding back, knowing that if I called him the things I really wanted to call him he'd probably never speak to me again. I was more grouchy than usual that afternoon, having gone without my morning coffee.
Why should I make your life easier after you ruined mine?
He gave me a mean, squint-eyed look, and I saw my own green eyes staring back at me. He was lucky to have inherited my looks and not his father's. Sandy brown hair, big almond-shaped eyes, puckered pink lips – the same features had served me well when I was his age. I'd had my pick of the boys for years, until I met his father. Although he looked the spitting image of me, his whole petulant attitude was Eric's – it was the worst part of him.
I sighed. Do we have to do this again? I did not ruin your life. You can make new friends – you're a sociable kid. And your old ones can visit whenever they want.
Yeah right, Mom, like anyone's gonna travel 600 miles to see me.
If that's too much trouble for them, maybe you should get some better friends.
I held back a laugh while he scowled at me. Then he turned back to his phone and made a conscious effort to ignore me.
This blows,
he mumbled.
Hands on my hips, I peered around the room, looking from box to box and realizing, with great despair, that it would probably take forever to hunt down that coffee maker.
A determined knock at the door stopped me mid-search. I looked at Adrian quickly, as though expecting him to tell me who was there. He didn't pull his eyes away from his cell, didn't even flinch.
I zig-zagged through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. The faces of two grinning women greeted me when I pulled the door open. One woman clutched tightly to a bottle of red wine. Behind them, the yellow-gold rays of the Florida sun beamed, making all the streets on the lane look postcard perfect. I'd forgotten how beautiful Fort Lauderdale could be. It had been years since I'd been back to the city, the city I grew up in.
Sabrina Klein, as I live and breathe.
Before I knew it one of the women had engulfed me in a body crushing hug. When she let me go, I got the chance to look at her face again, and recognized her.
Rachel? Wow, long time no see.
I stared back at one of my closest friends from high school, someone I hadn't seen in seventeen years. She hadn't changed all that much – I would have known that hug anywhere.
There was a rumor going around that you were moving back to town, but I wanted to see it with my own eyes before I believed it. Who listens to rumors, right?
Ironically, she had always been the type to not only listen to them, but start many of her own. I wondered if anything had changed there.
She grinned animatedly, looking me up and down and shaking her head. I didn't know what any of it was supposed to mean. Beside her, the other woman looked on shyly, waiting to be introduced.
It's really me,
I said. Hi, I'm Sabrina.
I shook the hand of the other woman, realizing that Rachel wasn't going to introduce us.
Denny. Nice to meet you.
We brought wine.
Rachel held up the bottle, then stepped past me into the house, without an invitation. Denny looked at me sceptically, uncertain whether to follow suit, until I ushered her inside. I led them to the kitchen.
Several minutes later, all three of us were sitting around the table downing the house-warming wine.
Sorry again for the coffee mugs,
I said for the third time that afternoon. These were the only things I could find. My son packed the kitchen stuff.
The last time I drank wine from a cup was when I was twelve and snuck a half empty bottle up to my room when my parents had gone to bed,
Rachel said, then laughed at the memory.
I can't believe we now live on the same street,
I said. Does that make me pathetic that I've come full circle? I'm thirty-five, my marriage is over and I'm pretty much right back where I started.
I took two swigs from my mug, misery prompting my actions. If I thought about my predicament too long it depressed me. My marriage, in its final years, had been pure hell, no exaggeration. It got to the point where my husband and I were sleeping in separate beds. The love vanished long before that, though. Adrian had been the glue that kept us together, but after awhile even that wasn't enough to keep us in a loveless marriage.
Nonsense!
Denny said, startling me with her passion. The wine had obviously given her a voice, and she seemed hellbent on using it. There's nothing pathetic about starting over. You're braver than most. To up and leave, with a teenage son... I wish I had your courage.
She mumbled something else, the word scumbag sticking out. I looked at Rachel for answers because there was obviously a huge piece of the story I was missing. But before she could speak, Denny broke in again.
At least your husband wasn't unfaithful while you were lying in a hospital bed recovering from a life-threatening illness.
I looked again at Rachel to corroborate, and she nodded sadly.
That's awful, I'm so sorry.
And I meant it. Eric hadn't cheated on me, as far as I knew, and for that I was grateful. Being cheated on would have hurt far worse than him falling out of love with me.
He didn't seem to think so,
Rachel said, putting a hand over Denny's. Welcome to Azalea Avenue. Hold on to your husbands.
You mean he did it with someone on this street?
I asked, shocked. I knew that sort of thing happened, but so close to home? How scandalous!
Yup. And you have the misfortune of living next door to Azalea's very own Cleopatra. The little harlot who'll sleep with anything that moves,
Denny said bitterly.
Her name's actually Casey, as tacky as the person it belongs to.
Rachel grinned wickedly. Resident whore and husband-thief.
She's a real prostitute?
I asked. I didn't know how much shock I could take that early in the day, and on such a small amount of wine.
"She'll deny it, but we've seen all the people leaving her house. Men... women." Denny made a face at that part, as though the idea of two women sleeping together disgusted her.
At all hours of the day. And the parties she throws,
Rachel added. Her face displayed the same disgust as Denny's – twins in their outrage. It was almost comical.
You say she lives in the house next door?
I asked warily. There I was thinking I'd moved to a peaceful neighborhood.
Enjoy your peace while you can,
Rachel said. She's out of town, I think. Hopefully she doesn't come back. The last family in your house left because of her.
She sounds terrible!
I had never been one to pass judgment so readily, without considering all the facts; and despite the fact that I knew Rachel's penchant for exaggerating, I couldn't bring myself to stay open-minded about the neighbor from hell.
She is,
Denny said with a determined nod. She's the worst human being you're ever likely to meet.
Over the days that passed I worked tirelessly to unpack all of our junk from the old house and make our new place more homely. It took five days