Number Neighbors - Emma Hart Page 0,22
texting me.
ME: You texted first. Why should I stop?
ISAAC: So I can reread our older texts and get rid of this erection.
ME: Oh hell no!
He didn’t reply.
ME: Isaac.
Still nothing.
ME: I AM HIGHLY UNCOMFORTABLE RIGHT NOW
ISAAC: Have you ever had an erection you can’t get rid of? That’s fucking uncomfortable, Hannah.
ME: Wow. Did you finish already? This is why we shouldn’t sleep together.
ISAAC: No, I did not finish. I didn’t even start. Your text messages ruined my scrolling.
ME: I can’t believe you’re even considering it.
ISAAC: What? It’s that or I go get myself off in the shower while imagining you in there with me.
ME: That is such a teenage boy thing to say.
ISAAC: Must I reference my erection again?
ME: You know what? Go do the shower thing. But you should know that I have terrible balance and I’m more likely to slip and fall in the middle of a shower fuck, thus snapping your penis straight off.
ISAAC: It’s worth the risk.
ME: You’re unbelievable.
ISAAC: In bed. I’m unbelievable in bed.
ME: Don’t you have to go jerk off? Go away.
ISAAC: I’ll let you know how you are in the shower.
ME: I appreciate the heads up.
ISAAC: I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.
ME: This is getting weird.
ISAAC: I know. I was wondering how weird I could make it.
ME: This. This is how weird you can make it.
He replied with two lines of the laughing face emoji.
ISAAC: Talk to you later, Hannah.
ME: If we must.
ISAAC: We much. You should know that I’m not giving up on making those text messages a reality. We will fuck for real.
ME: We’ll see.
ISAAC: You’re right. We will.
CHAPTER SEVEN – HANNAH
I’m Too Old For This
“No, that’s the wrong screw. You know that.”
Grandma Jen frowned and looked at the screw. “No. It’s the right size. I measured it.”
“You measured it in inches,” I told her, tapping the tape measure. “They’re clearly measured in millimeters.” I leaned over and grabbed the correct screw for the part of the outdoor sofa I was putting together, then picked up the screwdriver before she did something stupid like poke out her own eye.
“I don’t know why you invited me over. All you’ve done is whine like a little bitch.”
I glared at her. “Actually, I didn’t invite you. You showed up, remember?”
Grandma tilted her head to the side. “So I did. I really should call first.”
“I agree,” I muttered, reaching for the next piece of sofa.
Thank God it was hot out today. The last thing I needed was Grandma inside my house while I was trying to build my new outdoor furniture.
I’d only waited six weeks for the damn sofa set to be delivered. In hindsight, I wish I’d had to wait a little more since she was here, apparently helping me.
She and I had very different definitions of the word ‘helping.’
Spoiler alert: mine was the correct one.
“Can you pass the screws please?”
“Which ones?”
“Never mind.” I crawled across the grass to the bit of cardboard where the screws were sitting and grabbed the two I needed. I put one in my mouth between my teeth so I didn’t lose it and crawled back over.
“That’s not the sight I was expecting when I took the rubbish out.”
I froze at the sound of Isaac’s voice. Mostly because I was wearing a dress and there was every chance he’d just seen right up it.
Goddamn it. I wasn’t even wearing my good panties.
Grandma’s head snapped around. “What’s rubbish?”
I bit my lower lip so I didn’t laugh, but I sat down next to the sofa and looked over the fence at Isaac.
He held up the trash bag by way of an answer.
“That’s trash,” Grandma said, a very teenage-like tone of ‘duh’ in her voice.
“Don’t,” I said quickly. “She’s even more stubborn than I am.”
“I think you mean strong-willed,” Grandma replied, shooting me a look that told me to be quiet. “Who are you?” she directed at Isaac.
“Isaac Cooper, ma’am. Hannah’s neighbor.”
“Well I assumed as much. Why else would you be taking trash out if you didn’t live there?”
“Be nice,” I muttered to her, picking up the screwdriver.
“That’s an excellent point.” The sound of the bag being dropped into a metal trash can punctuated his words. “What are you doing over there?”
“Building a shuttle so we can beat NASA and that electric car guy to the moon,” Grandma replied. “What does it look like we’re doing, child?”
“Grandma! Stop being rude,” I scolded her.
She scoffed. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
Another excellent point from the crazy lady in lime green leggings.
Something my grandmother