Outside my window, the scene was utterly captivating. A creature, seemingly plucked from the realm of fantasy, myths, books, and wild imaginations, stood before me.
There was something compelling in the way he gripped the electric lawnmower, wielding it as if it were a natural extension of his being. With each determined stride, his muscles rippled with a powerful grace, echoing the tumultuous waves of a stormy sea.
As he mowed the lawn with graceful ease, Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" began to play in my mind.
The song's lively beat and infectious chorus seemed to echo the vibrant energy and allure of the man at work.
His well-defined muscles contrasted strikingly with his sun-kissed skin, conjuring images of a decadent chocolate cake laced with caramel—so tempting, it made me question whether my recent dream had been a premonition of his arrival.
Sweat beaded on his brow, tracing a glistening path down his neck, his chest taking on a honeyed glow.
The sight stirred a sense of elation within me, like uncovering a polished gem of warm, earthy tones.
His physique was the epitome of strength and perfection. I longed for the security of his embrace, to be enveloped in his powerful arms.
Mesmerized, I watched as he paused to hydrate, his biceps flexing as he lifted a water bottle to his lips.
My gaze fixated on his full, thin lips encircling the bottle, his Adam's apple moving with each swallow.
I found myself envying the water.
Suddenly, he stopped, and I caught my breath. Time slowed as his searching eyes met mine, locking us in a moment of intense connection.
The depth in his gaze reflected the curiosity and intrigue that swelled within me.
In that instant, I discovered it was indeed possible to forget how to breathe.
My gaze was locked onto his, and try as I might, I couldn't look away.
His intense stare seemed to pierce through me, making me feel vulnerable, as if he had the power to peer into the depths of my soul and uncover the secrets I'd long concealed. I was ensnared.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the friends I had momentarily forgotten, nor the embarrassment of being caught in a blatant stare.
My senses seemed to dissolve, leaving me rooted to the spot, utterly captivated by the sight before me. The rest of the world blurred into insignificance as I was consumed by the beauty of the moment, my eyes refusing to break away.
Fortunately, my friends were more present-minded and acted swiftly, pulling me down so we were all crouching. A semblance of sense returned to me. I harbored a faint hope that he hadn't seen us, but that hope was dashed in an instant by a heart-wrenching clatter in the room.
I should mention that we were peeking through the kitchen window. When my friends yanked me down, I inadvertently sent a cascade of utensils tumbling, now clamoring for attention.
I shut my eyes, unwilling to confront the disapproving looks from my friends. And of all things, it was a sufuria—a cooking pan—that had fallen. It didn't merely fall; it bounced, composing its own cacophonous melody as it rolled agonizingly across the floor, punctuating the silence.
A flush of embarrassment warmed my cheeks as I hesitantly opened my eyes to survey the chaos in the kitchen and the glaring faces of my friends. I was certain that the commotion had alerted all the neighbors, including the man next door.
"Sorry," I managed to whisper, my hands instinctively covering my ears.
…
"Who is that guy? So hot!" Lizzy exclaimed, fanning herself theatrically before collapsing onto the couch with a dreamy sigh.
"I know, right? I nearly melted," Carrie concurred, leaning back and closing her eyes as if to savor the memory.
As for me, I was utterly spellbound by the Adonis-like figure, to the point where reason abandoned me.
Who was he?
Surely he was new to the neighborhood; otherwise, I would've noticed him before. He was not someone you could overlook.
"Wake up!" Carrie's voice jolted me, and I nearly let out a scream.
Both Carrie and Lizzy erupted into laughter, leaving me flushed with embarrassment.
"What?" I demanded. "What's so funny?" My voice betrayed my bewilderment.
I watched as Carrie and Lizzy exchanged knowing glances before settling down in front of me.
"What?" I repeated, a sense of foreboding creeping over me. Their mischievous grins did little to ease my anxiety.
"We've been calling your name for ages," Lizzy claimed.
"Huh?"
"And you were blatantly ogling the handsome stranger out there," Carrie added, gesturing towards the window.
"What? No... I... what?" I stammered, unable to string together a coherent sentence.
The sound of my friends' laughter snapped me back to reality.
"Oh my! You're totally smitten with that guy!" Carrie teased.
She was right; I was hopelessly infatuated with him.
"Who wouldn't be? I'd marry him in a heartbeat," Lizzy mused, now lounging on the carpet.
"Take it easy, Barbie; you've got a boyfriend," I reminded her, trying to regain my composure.
I shook my head, attempting to dispel the lingering clamor of the fallen cooking pan.
Darn! Its echo persisted even after I had picked it up!
"Well, I want to be his, for him to devour me. To ha-"
"You've got a catch, remember? Or should I say, a hunter?" I cut in before she could continue. That seemed to snap her out of her reverie.
"You're right. Why did he have to appear when I'm already taken?" Carrie lamented dramatically, prompting an eye roll from me. Secretly, I was pleased he had shown up just then.
"Wait," Lizzy interjected, propping herself up on the carpet with one elbow. "Why do you sound so possessive?" she inquired, eyeing me with suspicion.
At her words, Carrie also turned to face me, making me feel as though I was under intense scrutiny.
"What are you talking about? Possessive?" I asked, my nervousness manifesting in fidgety movements.
"You act like you don't want us anywhere near the guy next door," Lizzy clarified, her expression serious.
Did I?
They must be mistaken; that wasn't my intention.I didn't want them to view him in that light... Well, perhaps they had a point. But I wasn't about to concede.
"You're imagining things," I asserted. "I was merely reminding you of your commitments," I added, hoping to deflect the conversation. But knowing my friends...
"Oh, please!" Lizzy scoffed, rising from the floor. "I studied psychology, remember? I can tell what you're thinking. And you, my dear, are crushing hard on our neighborhood hunk!" she sang, causing a warm flush to spread across my cheeks.
I did harbor a crush on the mysterious stranger, but I wasn't ready to reveal that. Not just yet.
"You're nuts," I laughed it off, hoping to pass it as a mere jest.
"And you're head over heels for him," Lizzy teased with a wink, eliciting an eye roll from me.
"Wait!" Carrie's voice cut through the air, louder than necessary, capturing our full attention.
She always had a flair for the dramatic.
"Okay, so Lizzy's taken, I'm sort of spoken for, and you..." she trailed off, exchanging a loaded glance with Lizzy before turning it on me.
The implication was clear, and it wasn't promising.
"Yes, you've just got yourself a man for the 'Fourteen Days of Valentine'!" Lizzy squealed with too much enthusiasm. I could smell trouble brewing.
"No way, no, no, and no. Have you both lost your minds?" I protested, leaping up from the couch and retreating behind it as if it could shield me from their mischief.
"I don't have a crush on him. He's just some guy I glimpsed for a second." Yet, I couldn't shake the butterflies that took flight in my stomach at the mere thought of him.
"We don't even know him. For all we know, he could be a criminal, or taken, or even... gay," I reasoned, only to be met with their incredulous stares. Predictably, they were unfazed.
"And let's not forget, I despise Valentine's Day. It's nothing but commercial fluff, and don't get me started on Cupid. What's endearing about a flying baby with arrows?" I argued, but their expressions remained steadfast.
They were dead serious.
"How will you ever find out unless you get to know him?" Lizzy posed the question as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
"So, you're suggesting I walk into the fire just to test its heat?" I countered.
"Ah, our dear Mandy is so clever!" Lizzy clapped her hands together, beaming.
"Obviously, my chicness is infectious," Carrie quipped, flipping her hair with a smirk.
I stared at them, dumbfounded. Couldn't they detect my sarcasm?
"You do realize we're friends, right?" I asked, a twinge of disbelief in my voice.
"Exactly! If neither of us can have him, then it's up to you to snag him. At least he'll still be in the circle, right Lizzy?" Carrie looked to Lizzy for confirmation, who nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Absolutely. Better to keep him in the family as a brother-in-law than hand him over to some other girl," Lizzy concurred, clearly enjoying the conspiracy.
"I can't believe you two. I'm not doing this. I refuse to get involved with some attractive stranger just to satisfy that ridiculous diary," I declared, standing my ground.
"What's the matter? Scared that your charm won't work on him?" Carrie prodded, a challenging glint in her eye.
"Or perhaps he's too much to handle? You've seen his physique; he needs a strong woman. Maybe you're worried he'll be too much for you," Lizzy chimed in, and I couldn't help but scoff.
"Are you implying I'm weak? My bones are just fine, thank you very much. How dare you... you..." Words failed me as I struggled to articulate my indignation.
Were they really trying to goad me into pursuing this stranger? Wasn't friendship supposed to be about support, not provocation? Lizzy's exaggerated sigh interrupted my thoughts.
"Let her be, Carrie. She's lost her edge," she lamented with feigned resignation. I shot Lizzy a glare.
"Not to mention she's getting old," Carrie added, pushing me over the edge.
"Old? I'm the youngest here!" I protested, my eyes widening in shock.
"I know, but I feel younger. I embrace life's challenges instead of hiding from them," Carrie retorted nonchalantly.
"I'm not hiding from anything," I stated flatly.
"You bury yourself in schoolwork, the library, your part-time job, and then you're glued to your laptop writing. You've forgotten how to live a little, let alone catch a guy's interest," Carrie rattled off my routine, and I winced at the partial truth.
"Lost my touch, you say? Take a good look. Do I seem 'rusted' to you? And what's this about not being able to handle him? I can handle anyone," I shot back, though her words struck a chord.
Lizzy rose and returned from the kitchen with a tray of cupcakes I'd baked the day before. She set them down and challenged,
"Actions speak louder than words. Prove it."
"Prove what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Show us you haven't lost your touch. Welcome him to the neighborhood with these cupcakes, right now," Lizzy instructed.
"Now?" I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone.
"Yes, now, Mandy," Carrie insisted.
"Prove it. Fill that blank page in your diary," she added, upping the ante. My heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement.
I've never been one to back down from a challenge, especially not with men. But the boy next door was an exception. There was something about him that simultaneously drew me in and pushed me away—do you understand what I mean?
Lizzy and Carrie's teasing didn't help matters. I found myself wishing for a guardian angel to appear on my right shoulder to guide me through this. I had to stand up for myself; my friends had already taken jabs at my ego, my charm, and even my age.
At twenty-one, they had me feeling like a forty-year-old spinster! My life is far from dull, except for the romantic chaos, which you're probably tired of hearing about by now. Life with besties like mine is anything but boring, single or not.
They keep things interesting, even if it means enduring their playful bullying. With a heavy sigh, I stood up from the couch, gripping the plate of cupcakes with a look of fierce determination.
"Prepare to witness the magic of my charm," I declared, striding towards the door with a resolve to prove them wrong.
Peer pressure is real, guys.
As I reached for the door handle, all the courage I had mustered—fueled by my friends' encouragement—evaporated at the thought of the enigmatic stranger. I couldn't bring myself to step outside. Instead, I turned back to face Lizzy and Carrie with a 'puss in boots' expression that usually worked wonders.
"I can't do this," I murmured, almost pleadingly.
They responded with sympathetic 'aww' and rushed over.
"What are friends for?" Lizzy asked, her grin wide. I exhaled in relief, grateful they wouldn't force me into this.
Friends should have each other's best interests at heart, after all.
Wrong
In the next moment, I was propelled forward, out the door, and down the path leading to the mysterious neighbor's house. I felt like a prisoner being led to my cell—or worse, to the executioner.
Yet, they were with me, and that was something. This is the paradox of my friendship with Lizzy and Carrie. They're my rock when times get tough, but they also have a knack for placing me in the most awkward situations.
Like that time they dared me to flirt with their boyfriends to test their loyalty—utter madness.
As we neared his backyard, reality struck. I was about to face the most attractive guy in town, all because of a dare.
"No, I'm going back," I declared, wrenching my arm free and spinning around to retreat. But before I could take a step, a deep, alluring voice called out from behind, freezing me in place.
The unexpected sound sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself rooted to the spot.
Why did everything about him have to be so irresistibly appealing—his gaze, his physique, and now his voice?
It felt almost illegal!
"May I help you?" Was his question.
Caught off guard, Carrie whirled me around to face him, her smile radiant.
"Hello, handsome!" she chimed, her flirtatious tone unmistakable. Did she have to flirt with my man too?
Wait a minute, when did I agree him being my man?
"Um, we noticed you're new around here and thought we'd extend a warm welcome and introduce ourselves. You're now part of our neighborhood. I'm Carrie," she said, offering her hand, which he accepted with a firm shake.
"And I'm Lizzy. Welcome to the neighborhood," Lizzy added, following suit with a handshake.
"And you are...?" he prompted, turning his attention to me.
I was left gawking.
It was one thing to admire him from a distance, but up close, with those intense, hawk-like eyes fixed on me, was entirely another.
"And you are...?" he inquired.
Up close, his piercing gaze was overwhelming.
His eyes, dark as onyx, seemed to see right through me, sending my heart into overdrive. He took his time, his gaze leisurely traveling over me before returning to my face with an amused smile.
"Good morning," he greeted, his voice rich and smooth, a smirk playing on his lips.
Oh, the irony!
It was already afternoon, yet here he was, saying 'good morning.'
And then it hit me—I had just rolled out of bed.
My face unwashed, teeth unbrushed, hair a mess, still in my pajamas—I was a walking embodiment of bedlam.
I could only imagine how I must have looked to him. I wished for the earth to swallow me whole.
"Um, this is our friend. You can call her beauty," Carrie interjected, saving me from my silent mortification but beauty?
Was she serious?
"And she's single," Lizzy piped up, not helping the situation.
"Did I mention kind? She even brought you cupcakes she made herself," Carrie added, as I internally groaned.
See what I mean about them putting me in awkward situations?
I wanted to correct them, but the thought of opening my mouth and confirming my lack of dental hygiene stopped me.
Instead, I offered a nervous, tight-lipped smile.
Eager to escape, I thrust the plate of cupcakes into his hands.
"I appreciate this... beauty," he said, and my skipped.
Carrie and Lizzy nudged me playfully, eliciting an involuntary giggle from me.
"I'm Nick," he introduced himself.
His name suited him perfectly. With his deep-set eyes, chiseled jawline, and warm smile revealing a charming dimple, he was undeniably attractive.
But this wasn't the time to dwell on his looks. I mustered a smile, grabbed my friends by their arms, and made a hasty retreat back to the safety of my home, not daring to glance back at Nick.
At least now I had an entry for my diary:
February 1.
Dear Diary,
Today, I met my crush in the most embarrassing way imaginable.
Isn't life just grand?