Covet Thy Neighbor

back to my client and finish her tattoo, but for a moment, I just stared at the empty doorway.
    So Darren Romero was my new neighbor.
    Hot. Potentially single. Potentially gay.
    Maybe Robyn moving out wasn’t so bad after all.

As predicted, Darren moved in on Thursday. At least it stopped raining shortly before noon. Otherwise Chris would have had one more reason to glower and grumble when I came out to see if they needed a hand. Good thing Darren was the one moving in. Chris and I might’ve come to blows before the first day was out. Or he and a piece of furniture might have taken an unfortunate tumble down the stairs. This neighborhood didn’t need another negative jackass. That was my job, damn it.
    Chris’s brother, however, was welcome to stay as long as he wanted.
    Fortunately, I had plenty to distract me while that gorgeous piece of temptation moved in upstairs. Unlike most Thursdays, today was one appointment after another, all the way up until seven o’clock.
    As the door banged shut behind my last client for the day, I closed my appointment book. Another day down, and a pretty damn productive one.
    Lane had already gone home, so I cleaned up my workstation, locked up the shop, and headed outside for the horribly strenuous thirty-foot commute to my apartment.
    I was reaching for the door to the stairwell when it opened. And just like that, I was face-to-face with Darren. He didn’t look much different from earlier, though his damp hair was casually arranged, so he must’ve just had a shower. Still, his presence struck me like it had the first time, and there went my heartbeat and brain waves.
    “Oh.” He stopped. “Didn’t realize you were off work already.”
    “Already?” I checked my watch, pretending my pulse hadn’t just jumped. “It’s quarter to eight.”
    “Aren’t tattoo shops usually open late?”
    “Yeah, on the weekends. Thursdays are . . . eh.”
    “Gotcha. So, um.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders. “I’m still learning my way around this place. Anywhere you can recommend for a beer?”
    How about my place? “All kinds of restaurants down that way.” I gestured past him, toward the Light District’s Town Square. “Just depends on what kind of atmosphere you’re into.”
    “Something quiet is good,” he said.
    “I’d try Jack’s. Just opened recently, and it’s not one of those loud sports bar types.”
    “I think I’ll give that one a try, then. Thanks.”
    “Don’t mention it.”
    He started to go, but paused. “Do you, um, want to join me?”
    I coughed to keep from choking on my own breath. “I—really?”
    Darren shrugged. “Hey, I’m new in town. I’m all for any opportunity not to eat alone.”
    “So you’re just using me for company until you make friends.” I sighed and shook my head. “I’m touched, Darren. I really am.”
    He laughed. “Have to start somewhere.”
    “True, I guess you do.” I put my keys in my pocket. “Sure. Let’s go.”
    We started down the sidewalk. The only evidence of this morning’s torrential downpour was the odd puddle, and the evening was cool but hardly unpleasant. Not a bad night for a stroll with the newest hot guy in Tucker Springs. As long as I managed to keep my feet under me, I was golden.
    “So this seems like a nice neighborhood so far,” he said after a while.
    “Your brother didn’t seem to think so.”
    Darren laughed softly, if a little halfheartedly. “He’s just protective. You know how older brothers are.”
    The comment smacked me in the chest, but I didn’t let it show. He couldn’t have known.
    I forced a smile. “Yeah, I know how they are.”
    “Sorry if he was a bit, um, abrasive the other day. And today.”
    “Don’t worry about it.” I sidestepped a small puddle. “But tell him you can pass the move-in discount on to him if he wants some free ink.”
    “Really?”
    “Sure.” I paused. “Can’t promise I won’t take a few liberties with his design of choice, but . . .”
    Darren laughed with a little more enthusiasm this time.
    Toward the end of the block, we slowed down beside the rainbow-festooned Pride shop. Flags, banners, posters, books; the place had it all. Darren scanned the colorful merchandise in the window as we walked past.
    “They have places like that in Tulsa?” I asked.
    “Not in my neighborhood,” he said with what I thought was a hint of bitterness.
    “You, um, you do know this is the gay part of Tucker Springs,