Angie was sat in a booth, applying a coat of pink gloss over her lips as I entered. She was a little older than I was, thirty three and I was naturally envious of her writing. She was a best seller in general fiction, she'd written a few children's books, dystopia type novels for teens and was best known for her book, The Trials. Angie had beautiful cameral skin, black tight curls and as far as I knew, she had a happy marriage. Unlike me, I nearly thought, instantly waving it out the window. The bar itself was not far from the business district, a small bar with purple neon lights, quaintly dimmed lit booths, tables in the centre and the bar had a couple barstools. I was glad for the distraction, I'd felt like a victim in my own home to those nagging thoughts punishing me as if I was suddenly stuck in white tiled room and victimised by a straight jacket preventing my escape.

I placed my black handbag onto the table, a whoosh of air leaving my lips as I slid into the opposite side of the booth. Angie immediately pleasantly smiled, dropping her lip gloss into her bag. "Hey, what's brought that frown onto your face? Everything okay?" she inquired, "actually, scratch that. Let me just go get our usual then you can tell me everything, okay?" Then she got up and headed towards the bar. I sat there contemplating on what I should bring up first. My lack of motivation to write, my lack of questionable interest in my sex life, Nick not turning up today and always away or that potential hottie next door which had been questioning my sanity and morals for less than 24 hours.

She soon returned holding two wine glasses slightly full to the brim. It was red rose my favourite, something I knew soothed me when I was anxious. Angie slid her purse down before she got into the booth herself. I knew I would come clean to Angie, it would help lift the weight off my shoulders.

"So? What's up, love?" she questioned, "you had your panel today, right?"

"Yep and it was great and all. I'm just still annoyed that Nick couldn't come. It's been like this for the last two months. He's always away, "I sighed, running my finger around the brim of the glass. "I guess I can't be angry, it is his business trip after-all and it pays our mortgage. And if book sales suddenly go down for me, he's the only one with money to keep us a float."

"I would be just as annoyed. He does seem to be away a lot. Can't you speak to someone in the company? And don't say that either! Your book sales will not deflate. You're a brilliant author. Speaking of. Still no luck on---"

I shook my head. "Nope. Nothing. It's like I can't even think. My mind feels empty. And you'd think with marriage and someone like Nick I'd be constantly making up fantasises. And that's the other thing."

"Your sex life?"

"Yes," I affirmed, shamefully looking into my glass I hadn't touched.

"Well, that's normal. Sometimes me and Noah have had to experiment. You know." She leaned forward as she said hushed, "spice things up. It's normal. So, I wouldn't worry about it. All married couples go through it at one point. And you'll find sometimes you'll go without sex for some time."

"I suppose." I wasn't entirely too convinced, but I could see Angie's point. "I don't know I just feel like things between me and Nick are...aren't the same. At least for me. I just don't get off easily as I once would. It's bloody ridiculous. I love this man and I'm having to fake," I said depressingly as I swallowed a mouthful of wine.

"You just need to talk it out with him. You know you and Nick could go see some sex experts. Or what about the sex you write in your books?" she asserted, raising her brow.

"The sex in books usually comes from inspiration between me and Nick, just over exaggerated. Meaning at the moment with how fed-up I'm feeling, I can't even write a word or two. I'll just need to talk to him," I claimed, knowing that will be a conversation I probably would have to come out with or choose blatantly to ignore.

"It will be fine." Angie took a sip from her glass, swirling the red liquid around. "Girl, I'm having no sex at the moment with the baby in the picture so trust me, you're not missing out on anything," she chuckled, making me feel a little better.

"How is little Lawrence anyway?" I piped up.

"Awh, honestly. He's a screamer. Had me up at four this morning. But he's settling in. Noah's been so good. How...about you and Nick? Are you two?" she asked, she seemed a little anxious once she answered me.

"Erm, we never really get to the conversation. Nick tells me he wants children but anytime I try to ask when. He blocks me out telling me that we don't need children yet. He wants me all to himself before he has to share. I don't mind waiting, I'm just---is it wrong that I think children will fix our relationship, Ang?" I desperately needed an answer, an honest one.

"Are you that unhappy?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Was I that unhappy? Of course, I wasn't. I loved Nick. Me and Nick were going to be fine. We just needed to fine ourselves and bring them together again. It was just a slight rough patch. "I-I, don't know," I admitted, sinking into the booth, "I'm just feeling empty at the moment. But that's normal, isn't it? Married couples go through that, don't they?"

Angie was quiet for longer than I anticipated. What was she thinking? "Of course," she muttered, grasping my hand from across the table. "I just think you and Nick need to talk this out. You know? I'm sure then, things will start to look better. Just don't keep it bottled up, Rose."

"Pssf, why do I suddenly feel like one of my characters in my books? It's so much simpler in fiction," I glumly joked, squeezing Angie's hand back.

***

Last night's conversation with Angie had made things a little clearer. I'd hardly slept, as usual, reflecting on things between myself and Nick. He was due to return back this afternoon. I just needed to get his full attention, we would talk it out and then things wouldn't be so bad. I'd tell him how unhappy I was feeling with our sex life, he'd understand, and we change things up, and then I'd mention about children, he'd listen, and things would start to feel like when we first met. That charming Nick who'd asked me out to the cinema, held my hand when I needed him, gave me my first kiss and the first to make love to me. The only man I'd loved and love. Things would go back to normality. I just had to be honest.

Feeling a little more optimistic, I opened up the pending document hoping my spur of inspiration would ski onto the page but after sitting there for twenty minutes, blankly, I knew there was nothing to be shared. How did I do it? How did I manage those plots, those characters and weave them together. Proof of my past plotting was on the countless pieces of paper I'd refused to throw out for value of my own and what possibly I thought would be for others. The lines and lines of annotations seemed alien to me.

The door bell suddenly rang. It couldn't be Nick, it was only eleven. He wasn't due till two. Taking my glasses off, I rolled up my cream jumper's baggy sleeves as I hopped down each step towards the door. Opening it up, I did not expect to see my neighbour, Shane. He was looking deliciously fresh, his five o' shadow neat against his sharp jawline, the two buttons on his dark purple shirt unbuttoned and black trousers that fitted his strapping legs. He was not what I ordered for this Wednesday morning.

"Good morning," he announced, smiling as usual, "I apologise if—" I shook my head, so he continued, "I just wanted to say thank you for recommending Ollie's. They were able to fix my car's puncture, quicker than I expected so thanks to your kind gesture, you've saved my day. I came to give you these." I hadn't even noticed that his hands were behind his back until he offered a bunch of wrapped up pink lilies.

"Oh wow." I could have choked at the lovely gesture. It was not what I expected. "You really didn't have to—"

"—I think I did," he interjected, "I would be without a car otherwise." Those pearly whites spread as I took the flowers from his hands.

"Well, thank you."

"You're most welcome."

He stood there, we both did in silence. I didn't know whether he expected an invitation inside or I did, but nevertheless I invited him. He was polite enough to ask if he needed to take his shoes off. I declined, feeling conscious off those dangerous eyes on my back as he followed me into the living room. I couldn't help but notice that once he sat down, his eyes pinpointed onto Nick and mine's wedding photo.

"I—I'll just go pop these into a vase." Then I vanished, trying at best to control my breathing that had escalated in a matter of seconds. For goodness sake, I told myself! Get a grip!

Shane was still sitting there patiently as I returned, his elbows resting on his spread out knees as he sat near enough on the edge of the sofa. He had a cool posture, casual and calm. Something I wasn't sure I could manage when I sat on the opposite one seater sofa knowing it dangerous to sit beside him.

"So, how was your day?" he asked with a relaxed coolness as if in the past few days, they were just close friends catching up. Maybe that was what he wanted. See? Nothing to be afraid of. Maybe, he wanted a neighbour he could talk with. Maybe him and Nick would get along. He'd come over when football was on, they'd chat, and then if Shane if ever got into a relationship, I'd become friends with her. It was possible.

"Er, it was okay. I'm just tottering around the house---"

"---Writer's block?" he cut in.

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"I just guessed. What's the undiscovered story about?" he asked, his eyes never not once leaving mine. They seemingly felt possessive. It didn't help they made my heart thump a little faster and were making me feel uneasy.

"I don't know. That's the problem. It's been like this for three months," I admitted to him, deliberately leaving out the part that I write romances. "I just can't seem to get a single word down on paper."

"Have you tried new things for inspiration? Perhaps the...old way doesn't work anymore," he muttered suggestively, his voice sounded huskier than usual, making me feel a little too invested in it.

"I-I---"

"---Sometimes, you just need to let go," he added.

I stood up, feeling a little too flustered. He must have sensed this as he soon followed with standing up himself. I began to walk towards door, lying that I would make us a glass of water until his hand barricaded me from further exiting the room.

Naturally, I pressed my fingers to my cold wedding ring.

"Are you happy?" he muttered, his eyes flickered between my eyes to my lips. Those soft lips of his moved enticing me to only look in return. I had wondered what they would be like to touch at that moment.

"What?" I choked, shaking my head, pressing my fingers into my palms. "I don't think this is---"

The sound of the front door and Nick's accompanying voice beckoned Shane to move away. He must have been dangerously close because he had to take two steps away from me. At that moment, I wasn't sure if I felt relief, disappointment or resentment in myself.

"Babe, I'm home. I got away early. You upstairs?" I heard him call out.

"No, I'm in here," I replied, rubbing my hands down my trousers before I attempted a smile as Nick entered the living room, dropping his suit case on the floor. "Hey, baby ," he said, embracing me into his arms and kissing the top of my head. "Oh, who's this?" He was referring to the stranger within our home, or at least how it must have appeared to him to be.

"I'm Shane. I'm your new next door neighbour. Number 28. I was just introducing myself to your wife and hoping that yourselves would be available for my house warming tonight," he calmly explained, that charming smile dancing onto his lips as he held his hand out. Nick was hesitant at first until he shook it.

"Well, welcome to the neighbourhood. I'm Nick. Sorry, I wasn't here earlier to have introduced myself. I've just got off a business trip. But, of course, we would love to be there tonight," Nick conversed, draping an arm across my shoulders seemingly protectively.

"Great, I'll see you two there tonight. About seven," Shane uttered, his eyes immediately falling onto mine briefly before he said his farewell with Nick following him out. I closed my eyes, clenched my fists together, dropping them only as Nick returned to the living room.

"Well, he seemed lovely. It will be good to do something together tonight, right, love? Oh, god, I missed you," he declared, pulling me into his arms once again. I remained quiet, resting my head against his shoulder wondering on what the earth had happened earlier. What could have happened if Nick hadn't entered.

Nick was stroking his hand across my back affectionately. "I'm sorry about yesterday, babe. I promise, you'll have me for the rest of the week. I'm finishing on early evenings the rest of this week. I could take you to that favourite restaurant of yours." He pulled be back, admiring me as his fingers brushed hair from my face. "How about we go make some fun upstairs, huh? I'll show you how much I've missed you?"

I pressed my lips together, attempted another sweet smile and allowed him to escort me upstairs.

Was it so wrong that when my husband's lips kissed my neck, or his hands squeezed my breasts as I lay there, my arms barely draping around his neck that I thought of him. The man next door.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PLEASE VOTE, COMMENT AND SHARE IF YOU ENJOYED! LET ME KNOW IF YOU'RE LIKING THIS STORY SO FAR! YOUR FEEDBACK IS WELCOME! ALSO, DID YOU KNOW BOSS UNDERCOVER IS OUT AUGUST, 28 AND CAN BE PREORDERED RIGHT NOW!

THANK YOU,

VAMP