Window to Temptation

“You just got back,” Cory argued, her brown eyes fluttering like a puppy as she leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom. She knew she couldn’t actually keep him from leaving. Four years ago, she had married into this reality. Travel was the price of loving a management consultant.

“I know, but this is the gig. They need an action plan for reducing spending before their Q4 earnings call.”

He held up two different ties, one red one purple. Cory nodded toward the purple one and he tucked it into the suitcase.

“Like, literally just got back. Wednesday night. It’s only Friday.”

“Babe—”

“I’m not fighting with you.” She pushed off the doorframe, padded across the hardwood in her bare feet. “I’m just...I miss you when you’re gone. That’s all.”

Hunter stood up straighter, the suitcase only half-packed. “I don’t leave until Monday. We have all weekend to hang out.” He gave her a playful look, his hazel eyes running seductively over her body as he flexed his arms, making the serpent tattoo that wrapped around his arm come to life. “I miss you too. You know that, right?”

“Intellectually, sure.” She picked at the hem of her oversized sleep-shirt. It was one of his old Northwestern tees that hung to mid-thigh. “But you’re gone three, four nights a week. Sometimes it feels like we are still in college and only see each other through the phone.”

“We had a lot of fun on those phone calls.” He abandoned his suitcase completely, making the short trek across their small bedroom to hold her in his arms. She felt tiny against his large frame, her body nearly disappearing as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Just a couple more months,” he whispered, seeing how upset she was. “Their guys loved the operational excellence deck. If the CEO signs off after this meeting, we’re moving into the implementation phase. That’s senior consultant track, Cor. That’s us finally having money for the larger house you wanted. The family.”

The financial cushion was something they’d talked about since they started this journey. They both hated their jobs, told each other it was a means to an end. This promotion would finally let them breathe. They could get out from the crushing weight of the student debt they’d piled up.

“How many people?” She asked it quietly, almost like she didn’t want to know.

“How many people what?”

She pulled back from his chest, curling her fingers around the back of his neck. “How many are going to get let go because of this strategic optimization?”

Hunter shook his head, it was a low blow. She knew how much he hated this part of his job, but if it wasn’t him doing it then it would be someone else. “That’s not fair Cor.”

“They probably think the same thing.”

“You really want to spend these last couple of days fighting?”

“No, I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I know it’s important. I just... I like it when you’re home.”

For a moment, they just stood there, his arms around her, her fingers twisted in his shirt. This was the life they were fighting for. When he didn’t have to fly away every other day. When they could just be who they wanted to be, instead of what society wanted them to be.

“I’m home now,” he said finally, his voice softer. His fingers slipped inside the hem of her shirt. “Why don’t you show me how much you miss me?”

She felt herself smile despite the melancholy. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Maybe.” She felt his fingers brush against the tattoo above her knee. “Or maybe I’m just fishing for some mental images to use while I’m in Cleveland.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped back from his touch. “Is this what you were hoping to see?” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, grabbed the hem of the oversized shirt, and tossed it aside.

Heat tinted her cheeks as she spun around slowly, revealing the green boy-short panties underneath. For a minute, it felt like they were back in college - him at Northwestern, her at Cornell, separated by over six hundred miles and a time zone. Back then, these little teasing shows over video calls were all they had. Late-night conversations that left them both aching and wanting more.

A single manicured finger slid up her toned stomach, the lines of her abs marked with henna tattoos that spiraled up toward her ribs. “It’s too bad I have Katrina meeting me in a couple of hours.” She backed toward the bathroom slowly, Hunter following her every step of the way. “Guess you’ll have to just imagine me in cat pose until then.” She blew him a kiss, then shut the bathroom door behind her.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said from the other side of the door, his voice an octave higher.

“You love it.” She slid off her damp underwear and tossed them into the dirty clothes hamper.

Through the door, muffled: “Seriously, Cor. You can’t just—”

“Lots of downward dog, too,” She was laughing as she changed.

She really did need to get ready for Katrina. But she could give him a few minutes to think about what he was missing.

***

“Focus on your core, just put everything else out of your mind. Breathe. Ok?”

Cory placed her hand on Katrina’s stomach, moving it in slow circles as she demonstrated the breathing pattern. Deep inhales that engaged the core, pulling everything tight.

“Tuck your knees in, right up to your chest, you’re going to feel a strain in your thighs.”

The client on the clean mat below made a valiant effort. Her hips were locked from age and old injuries, but Cory’s calm voice and the scent of burning sage helped her relax into the stretch. Find peace with what her body could still do, even if it wasn’t what it used to do.

Cory nodded her head, tucking a short lock of hair behind her ear, habitually tapping the handmade, dangling sunflower earrings she’d made on her own.

“You’re doing well. Feel the muscle memory you’ve built. If you’re sensing tension, don’t push past it. Your abductors are stabilizing this movement, your hamstrings and quadriceps join together in this trinity. Our bodies are systems. Can you feel it in your pelvis?”

Katrina nodded, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She relaxed with every command and gentle adjustment Cory offered.

Cory walked over to the sage she was burning alongside her incense and smothered it with ritualistic fondness in the glimmering oyster bowl it rested in. The remaining embers at its ends, fluttered into glowing orange motes against the bowl’s shimmering polish, dissipating into nothing. She paused her custom playlist of new age ambience.

“Let’s go ahead and stretch before we end our session.”

They moved through mountain pose together, hands at their chests, breathing in sync. The henna tattoos on Cory’s feet and thighs curved up her legs like vines as she demonstrated each position.

“You did so well today Katrina. I mean it.” She handed the former tennis pro a warm compress for her knee. She watched her wince slightly before her shoulders finally relaxed, the chronic ache in her thoracic spine subsiding. Katrina let her platinum hair down from its ponytail and took a long drink of cold water. The relief on her face was visible.

Cory opened her phone and typed session notes while Katrina gathered her things. Rotational measurements, improvements since last week, the slight weight loss that might help with pain distribution. For Cory, this part was pure, driven by actual science, actual biomechanics. For every injury, there was a way to strengthen around it. Maybe not fix it completely, but at least give it a fighting chance.

This was after all what she had pursued at Cornell. Her sports medicine dissertation thesis was focused on biomechanics within holistic practices. Demonstrating that the pursuit of hokum oils, therapies, and dietary fads were in fact economic in their intention. With no studies to prove their effectiveness.

Yet the allure of it, the somehow natural feel of it all felt right to her. It spoke to something deeper within her, past the sound walls of logic and intellect. A need she couldn’t quite define but could easily tap into when necessary.

After Katrina left, Cory retreated to her office, she changed into her luxury bohemian dress and jewelry quickly preparing for her MS Teams meeting with the CEO and accompanying board of Nexus Capital Strategies. Before turning on the camera, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to get into character.

The investment firm had reached significant prominence by creating in house AI that examined existing portfolios for potential economic downturns. To date, using this proprietary tech, Nexus had risen to a Fortune 500 company, whose CEO, Lawrence Walker had quickly become the face of cutting edge technology enhanced investing.

Cory parted her hair carefully, despite its short length, relying on its asymmetry to enhance her aesthetic that balanced both tech world minimalism and hokum wellness guru. She had done this hundreds of times, and while a lingering sense of shame buttressed her feelings of dishonesty, the lifestyle and the ease at which she paid back her Ivy League degree assuaged any doubt.

The screen of her monitor was soon full with the board room of Nexus Capital, Lawrence at the center of the grey, rough hewn marble table that occupied the majority of the room. Its CFO and primary executives watched with apprehension, and legitimate suspicion at Cory who looked to them, more of an influencer than a respected professional. Lawrence has assured them however, that her consultancy has increased productivity with many companies she had worked for.

It wasn’t a lie. Cory’s vague affirmations and mindfulness language resonated with these people. They knew that offering “wellness sessions” was an effective cover for their actual goal: extract more work from employees to increase shareholder wealth.

“Good afternoon Mr. Walker and NCS board members. I’m so honored that the alignment between our energies brought us here today.”

Lawrence frowned, wincing slightly at the mention of “energies” but given the reassurance of other titans of tech, he wouldn’t let it dissuade him. He was purpose driven.

“Certainly. A pleasure. We were curious as to some...strategies we could implement.”

“Of course, like, ok so mindfulness breakouts before quarterly meetings. This is a simple practice, and builds trust. I’ve sent over in the attached PDF instructions on how team leads can lean into these techniques to build comfort amongst each other.”

“We have a decent relationship among our employees. HR has the metrics to prove it. What is this about affirmations?” Lawrence shifted in his chair, reserved and imposing, as if to challenge Cory.

“Affirmations come from the heart’s space. It’s about intentionality. And work, like what you all do, is about manifesting truth. Right? So like these daily affirmations sent out to employees, it builds value. It creates unity. Potential for expansion.”

Expansion. That was the singular word that enticed any purpose driven corporate leader. It was simple, and its intended meaning was immediately ignored by them. Which is just the way Cory wanted it.

The conversation wrapped with alignment exercises. When the call ended, she leaned back and checked her calendar. Her phone buzzed, a text from Hunter.

“Hey. How’d it go?”

She smiled despite the lack of warmth in the text. Face to face, those same words would sound completely different. She took off her blazer and hung it back up, her acrylic nails spearing against the screen with startling accuracy.

“It went well. Lawrence was absolutely brought on board but it was a tough sesh.”

“No, I mean with Katrina.”

“Oh! Yeah she was great. Sorry. Just out of it.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. You know I’d stay home if I could.”

“I know it’s not that. Well not completely anyway.” She sank deeper into her chair and chewed on her lip. “I just worry that we’re going to get trapped in the rat race and not be able to get off. Like, we keep talking about growing the savings, but where does that end?”

“I get it. Once I get this merger done, we’re going to be in a great place. And hey, after that IUD comes out...we can start trying. And that’s half the fun right?”

Cory blushed and bit her lip. It was rare for him to be so brazen. He was so focused on work, not entirely dissimilar from men on the boards she advised on a weekly basis. She licked her lips.

“Wanna practice? :)” She was still a little worked up from teasing him earlier and her next client wouldn’t be here for at least an hour.

“Oh we need it. Badly. You’ve been doing all that flexibility stuff. Maybe you could show me some of it?”

“Maybe.” She spread her legs, lightly running her fingers across the fabric of her leggings.

“Maybe? I have a conference call later, there’s enough space under my desk. I’m sure it would help me... focus.

She hadn’t heard him be this playful in months, and delightfully teasing.

“Think you’ll be able to keep your voice down...all that spit those cute little choking sounds you make.”

“Mmm fuck. You know how turned on I get when you make me choke.” Her fingers moved to her inner thigh and she let out a needy sigh. “I’m thinking about it right now. What would you have me do next?”

She saw the three dots appear on his message, then disappear. She held her breath, the tip of her manicured nail close enough now to her core that she could feel the heat pulsing from it.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see. It sucks being teased to death, doesn’t it?”

She let out an audible gasp that seemed to echo through the empty office. “Fuck. Are you serious?”

He left her on read. She caught the side of her flushed face on the screen, smiling in anticipation of what would happen later.

***

Cory stretched beneath a cloudless sky, working out the tension in her calves. She’d been tracking her running stats obsessively lately, personal records, route elevations, energy expenditure. Mapping it all out late at night was a happy distraction from everything else.

As the sun coated the sidewalk with its blinding rays, it transformed the asphalt into a hazy mirage in which Morgan appeared. Her dark brown hair was artfully colored with platinum blond highlights, and was already partially matted against her neck from the grueling heat. Her thin, short fingers nimbly worked to tie a loose side braid.

“Hey, bestie!” Cory smiled fondly at Morgan, who, despite their familiarity, seemed to be in a state of near-permanent shyness.

“Hi! Wow, it’s sooo hot out today.” Morgan embraced her for a quick hug.

“Yeah, only because you’re here.” Cory winked.

“Stop! Ugh. Come on. Dad jokes? Really?”

Cory had never quite figured out Morgan’s lack of confidence. There was no obvious reason for it. She had soft features, a serene face, enticing big dark eyes. Her complexion, although pale, was near flawless. Her body was lavish, her curves perfectly symmetrical. But the timidity seemed baked into every expression.

“New route today. Let’s walk it before we run it.”

Morgan nodded as the two set off at a brisk pace, transitioning away from the sidewalk and underneath the shade of looming pines. The trail offered resistance in its sometimes steep elevation. At the crest of the path, they started their descent. Cory, as per tradition, was the first to speak.

“So...Hunter’s flying out to Cleveland on Monday.”

“Really? I don’t know how you do it. I swear he’s gone more than he’s home.”

“I’m getting so sick of it.” She swatted a branch away from her line of sight with a surprising amount of anger, snapping it at its base.

“You don’t mean that. You and Hunter are the strongest couple I know. I wish Zach looked at me the way Hunter looks at you.”

Cory’s sharp look softened. Morgan was right. He was doing this for them, for their future. Every reason she was proud of him was undercut by the loneliness she felt when he was gone.

“You’re right. You are. I know...I just. I fucking hate it. Y’know? I swear, I’ve even tried manifesting him to stay. I’m starting to believe my own bullshit.”

“Well, I mean you must believe some of it, right?”

“I do. I always have. It’s just... it feels like grifting. I have a degree in sports medicine. Yet the actual science doesn’t pay a third as much as fixing people’s auras. It’s embarrassing.”

“Does it matter umm if it reaches someone? I know it sounds stupid, but—”

“No, you’re right. As long as I’m helping people that’s what matters. I just can’t sometimes get lost in the big picture of it. Thanks, for the reminder.”

The shadows swallowed the rest of their conversation as the trail steepened, dirt and clay dragging at their tired legs. Cory leaned into the burn, into the simple math of effort and air and motion. When they finally broke back onto the groomed industrial paths, sweat soaked her clothes and her chest heaved, but for the first time all morning, her head felt quiet. As they rounded back into the neighborhood, both breathless and sweating, they saw the U-Haul positioning itself in the driveway next door to Cory’s house.

It was an alien sight, a sign of life that was bestowed upon the empty vessel that sat beside them for so long. There wasn’t anything particular about the vehicle itself, after all it was by design, to be a blank brand that bore the unique lives of its customers.

From the passenger side emerged a woman of startling beauty. Bronze skin, without any blemish, long obsidian hair, and a voluptuous figure that communicated fertility and command, they both stood slack-jawed looking at her.

From the driver’s side came a troll of a man, older, his face a tired and worn slab of jowls and a patchy white beard with spectacles that were dirtied and smudged. His complexion was blemished and corpse like, his expression that of a near constant grimace. They silently began to open the back of the vehicle, unceremoniously bringing box after box in. The woman’s attire was grossly inappropriate for labor of any kind, save seduction.

Morgan, in a rare moment of playfulness, nudged Cory’s elbow as she tried to catch her breath.

“So I mean, sugar daddy much?”

Cory laughed despite herself. The observation was undeniable. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark.

“I should probably go say hi,” Cory said, still watching as they unloaded box after box. “Be neighborly.”

“Looking like that?” Morgan gestured at Cory’s sweat-soaked running clothes. “Girl, you’re literally dripping.”

“Good point.” Cory pulled out her phone, checked the time. “I’ll shower first and make Hunter come with me.”

“Good luck.” She pulled Cory into a hug. “When Hunter gets back from his trip, the four of us should go out. Zach mentioned a new Italian restaurant. Their wine selection is supposed to be to die for.”

“I’ll talk to him and let you know.”

As Cory headed toward her front door, she stole one last glance at the couple next door. The woman caught her looking and smiled. Cory waved awkwardly and hurried inside. She needed a shower. Then she and Hunter would go be good neighbors.

***

Cory ran the bottom of her soaked shirt across her face as the cool air on the AC hit her. Despite having barely run the new route, just being outside for an extended period of time caused dark patches to form under her arms and down her sides. She walked into the living room to find Hunter as she pulled the sweat soaked shirt completely off, her black sports-bra soaked through.

Hunter was perched in the middle of the sofa, a glass of sweet tea sweating on the table beside him.

“Hunter, there’s a coaster right next to the glass. Use it,” Cory chided, shaking her head. They’d only gotten the wooden end tables last year and the last thing she wanted to do was replace them because her husband couldn’t move his glass three inches to the left.

He didn’t even bother with a response, his gaze glued to the tv as the Titans moved the ball past the twenty and into the redzone.

Cory arched an eyebrow and placed her hand on her hip. She never understood why men obsessed over something like football. It was a brutal game, just a modern day version of gladiators as far as she was concerned.

“Looks like someone finally moved into that house next door. We have new neighbors.”

“Mm.” He slammed his fist against the sofa in frustration as Dike dropped what would have been an easy touchdown.

“They’re moving in right now.” She crossed into the kitchen, stepping in front of the TV and causing Hunter to shift to look around her. “I’m going to shower then we should probably introduce ourselves.”

“Mm-hmm.” A run up the middle got them a few yards closer to the end-zone.

Cory grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and downed half of it in one pull. The cold spread through her chest, fighting the heat still radiating from her. “Are you even hearing what I’m saying?”

“Uh-huh.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled her sports bra over her head, before walking into the living room, her nipples like diamonds once the cool air hit them. She tossed the discarded bra at her husband. “Hunter.”

The bra landed on his head. Once he realized what it was, his gaze shifted from the TV to his wife standing beside the couch, topless and grinning. For a moment, he just stared.

She gave a playful laugh as she reached back, pulling the elastic tie from her hair and shaking it loose. “Oh good I have your attention. I’m going to shower and then we are going to go introduce ourselves to the new neighbors.”

She’d never loved her chest. It was too small, too boyish, all the things her peers and classmates had said in high school. She leaned into it, cutting her hair shorter, telling herself that she didn’t care what other people thought. Her sophomore roommate at Cornell had suggested the tattoo. A tree of life spreading across her sternum and between her breasts. “You’re never going to have cleavage, so give them something else to look at,” she’d said. Cory had agreed, slightly drunk and still stinging from the frat guy who’d compared her chest to his kid brother’s. But the way Hunter looked at her now made none of that matter. When he looked at her like this, she felt like the sexiest woman alive.

“Want some company?” The game was suddenly a distant memory.

“No.” She backed toward the stairs, smiled at the way his eyes tracked her movement. They’d barely made it to the bedroom Friday night after all that teasing, and here he was ready to go again. She should have known better. Hunter’s appetite for her never seemed to diminish. “I want to get clean. But after we meet the neighbors... maybe we can revisit that.”

She turned and headed up the stairs, still feeling Hunter’s eyes on her.

“Touchdown Titans,” the announcer’s voice boomed. Hunter’s groan of frustration followed her up the stairs, and she was still laughing as she reached the bedroom.

---

The water pressure in their shower was one of the few things in the house that actually worked the way it was supposed to. Cory stepped beneath the spray, letting the heat loosen her shoulders.

Her phone sat on the bathroom counter, Citizen blaring from the speakers. She had a little extra energy because they had mostly walked their route that morning, and she bounced lightly in place while the music filled the room.

Her hips swayed to the beat as she worked shampoo through her hair, foam sliding down her arms. Her thoughts drifted back to the new neighbors. The woman looked to be around Cory’s age, but the man was old enough to be her father.

Morgan’s playful quip about him “having money” replayed in her head. That was one explanation. But then again, they had shown up with a U-Haul instead of a moving company, and the guy definitely was not dressed like someone with cash to burn. There was another explanation for the obvious age gap, although Cory shut it down the moment it surfaced, too disgusted to consider it. Besides, maybe he had an amazing personality or a killer sense of humor.

As the second song began to fade, Cory turned off the water and grabbed her towel, wrapping it around her body and tucking it under her arms. The next song to play was even more upbeat than the last and she practically danced out of the bathroom and made her way to the dresser.

She thought about whipping up a batch of brownies or something before they went next door. She hated to show up empty-handed, but they would take too long to bake and the woman had already seen Cory. She didn’t want to seem anti-social by not coming over in a timely fashion. Her head bobbed to the beat, her towel falling to the floor as she opened her dresser drawer.

Maybe they’d just pop by for a quick introduction today and then tomorrow she could bring something more appropriate. Besides, she didn’t know what kind of allergies they had.

The top drawer slammed shut as she slipped on a green thong. She didn’t particularly like the way thongs felt, but if Friday night was any indication of where tonight was heading, she wanted to make sure she had something sexy on for later tonight.

She turned toward the closet. Maybe she had a dress that wouldn’t require a bra. It was only going to be a ten-minute visit, then they would be back home and she could…

Her eyes widened. She froze.

The bedroom window that faced the house next door had no blinds covering it. The ones Hunter had promised to install three months ago were still sitting in a box somewhere downstairs. In the window directly across from hers stood the man from the U-Haul.

His gaze locked onto her, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and delight. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other while Cory stood there, topless and exposed.

There was no pretending he hadn’t seen her. There was no blush and no attempt at turning away. He just stood there and watched.

Sunlight flashed off his glasses, a sharp glint like a sniper tracking its target. Cory’s mind screamed at her to move, to grab something, to cover herself, to do anything, but her body refused to obey. She stood frozen in place as if her body had forgotten how to respond to basic commands.

“HUNTER!” The scream tore through her, the sound unfreezing time as she lunged for the towel on the floor and the man disappeared down the steps.

“Cory?! What—are you okay—”

She pointed at the window with a shaking hand, the towel clutched against her chest with the other. “He was there. The neighbor. He was just standing there watching me—”

Hunter walked over to the window, looking around their surroundings as if he expected to find some damning piece of evidence.

“I don’t see anyone now.”

“He was there!” Her voice was trembling. “Right there, in that window. Hunter, he saw me. He saw... everything. I was topless and he just... he just stared at me. For like—I don’t even know how long. He didn’t turn away, didn’t close his blinds, he just—” She pressed her free hand against her mouth “This is so mortifying.”

Hunter turned from the window, and she searched his face for outrage. Instead she saw what looked like a smirk.

“It’s fine. He probably only—”

“Why haven’t you put up those blinds?” She knew she was redirecting, but he hadn’t been there. He wasn’t the one who felt violated.

“Cor—”

“And you said yeah, I’ll get to it like you always say, and then you never actually—”

“You’re right.” He held up both hands, walking closer to her. “I should have done it. I will do it.” He put his hands on her bare shoulders trying to calm her down. “But babe... you can’t really blame the guy for staring at perfection.”

Her mouth hung open, she wasn’t in the mood for his charm. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just saying, he probably walked into his bedroom, looked out the window, and there you were looking all, like this...” His smile turned crooked and his hands slid to her elbows. “He was probably just as surprised as you were.”

“Surprised? Hunter, he didn’t look surprised. He looked... He just stood there. Watching.”

“Which is creepy, I agree.” But his tone didn’t match the words. He kissed her forehead “Still. We should probably go over there.”

“What?” She pulled away from him. “Are you insane? I’m not going over there. Not after—I can’t just knock on their door and pretend—”

“We don’t have a choice.” He reached for her hand but she pulled away. “If we don’t go over there now, it’s going to be weird forever. Every time you see him, you’ll think about this. It’ll be this... thing between you.”

“It’s already a thing!”

“Which is why we need to go over there and make it not a thing.” He moved toward the closet and pulled out the first dress he saw, tossing it on the bed. “Get dressed. We’ll go over, say hi. You’ll see you’re making this a much bigger deal in your head than it actually is.” He pulled her toward the bed, away from the window, and loosened her towel. “Then when we get back...”

“Not a chance until you put up those blinds.” Cory looked at the dress, then at the window, then back at Hunter. Everything in her wanted to refuse, to hide in this bedroom until the neighbors moved away or the house burned down or literally anything that would make this feeling go away.

But he wasn’t wrong. If she avoided them now, that moment would live between them forever. The neighbor who saw her naked. The woman was too mortified to introduce herself.

“Fine,” she said finally, hating herself immediately for it. “Five minutes. Then we leave.”

“Five minutes,” Hunter agreed, already heading for the door. “I’ll be downstairs. The game is just about to end.”

She stood alone in the bedroom, staring at the sundress on the bed, and tried to convince herself this was the right choice.

***

Hunter had always been meticulous about first impressions. It was a necessity in management consulting where every client meeting was an audition for the next contract. He settled on minimalist loafers, khaki chinos, and a maroon polo that hugged his frame. He tucked in the shirt, made sure his black leather belt matched his Apple Watch’s charcoal strap.

Cory emerged from the bedroom in a high-necked blouse and a knee-length skirt that practically screamed modesty. Her trainers peeked out from underneath. Hunter grinned playfully.

“You’re dressed like we’re going to church?”

“You know exactly why I’m wearing this.”

“The sundress looked amazing on you though.”

“There’s absolutely no chance I’m walking over there showing a single inch of skin after what just happened.” She massaged the back of her neck, feeling the tension there.

“Well, I guess let’s go introduce the new neighborhood nun to the neighbors. You ready?”

She nodded, as they held hands and headed toward the door. There was a strange unease in her, she could feel it, her breathing hurried, her fingers tingled. Standing still, she ran her fingers through her hair, anything to calm herself to remain present. Once outside, Hunter paused on the top step, a college football ring catching the sunlight as he grabbed the railing, projecting a crystallized prism from the stone at the center.

They didn’t bother to lock the door behind them, there was no need. Southern Point, or more affectionately known among locals as SoPo, was small, tranquil, and isolated with little foot traffic of any kind. The occasional car would pass through, mostly a detour brought on by a GPS error.

As they turned the corner of the U-Haul that was still parked out front, the enormity of Luther’s shape was glimpsed, easily handling a large box that was poorly and quickly packed. He displayed a minor amount of exertion as he placed the box in front of their door.

“Well.” His voice was deep and unhurried. “I had a feelin’ we’d be meeting each other soon enough.” He extended a hand to Hunter. “Luther Kane.”

“Hunter. Nice to meet you, man.”

Luther turned to Cory, there was a slow pause, one that was undeniable to the couple as Luther studied Cory carefully. Her hand looked dainty in his as she shook it slowly.

“Cory,” she whispered, unable to find her voice.

“A pleasure to meet you properly, Cory.” The way he said her name made something tighten in her stomach. “No need to be bashful.” A smile tugged at his lips, and Cory found herself pulled into the pale blue of his eyes. “Bad luck, really. Me carryin’ books upstairs just as you happened to be… well.” His eyes drifted down once more as he let the image settle. “No harm done. I suppose these things happen between neighbors.”

“I…” Cory glanced at Hunter, who was grinning with an I-told-you-so expression.

“We’re all adults here. Bodies are just bodies, aren’t they? Nothin’ the good Lord didn’t intend.”

He said it so reasonably. Like the violation was just an accident of proximity, like her mortification was an overreaction. And then, worst of all, the subtle shift in his expression that suggested he was doing her a favor by dismissing it.

“I accept your apology.”

Cory’s eyes went wide, heat flooding from her chest to her face. He hadn’t apologized. She had nothing to apologize for. The whole exchange was backwards, upside down, and yet he’d said it with such calm certainty that for a disorienting moment she questioned her own memory of events.

He held her hand a second longer, as if gauging her reaction. When it became clear she was too frazzled to speak, he released her with a faint smirk.

“Y’all seem like good people. Neighborly, comin’ over to introduce yourselves.” Cory looked at Hunter, but if he’d recognized what had just happened, his face didn’t show it. “My wife and I were just about to head over ourselves. She’s inside gettin’ things settled. Come on in, if you’ve got a minute.”

As he turned toward the front door, he glanced back at them. His gaze lingered on how closely they stood together, on Cory’s nervousness despite her effort to hide it.

Hunter glanced over Luther’s shoulder, seeing the rows of moving boxes and furniture still left to be arranged. The box that had yet to be moved inside was partially open. It was bordering on impossible to not examine it as they followed Luther. Hunter peered into the box.

It was filled to the brim with older books, some resembling tomes even, weighty, with dusty or moldy covers. The distinguished odor of old parchment paper was immediate, even at his distance. Quills, reservoirs of ink, old journals with tanned leather covers were strewn within. Before he stepped inside the home, Hunter looked to the back of the U-Haul, seeing even more books spilled out of old boxes, and several large trunks with rusted bronze fittings, latches, and broken locks.

Luther noticed him looking. “Occupational hazard, I’m afraid. Taught philosophy for twenty years—you accumulate things. Books, mostly. My wife keeps threatening to make me get rid of them, but...” He shrugged, almost sheepish. “Can’t seem to let them go. Each one’s a conversation I’m not done having yet.”

From the kitchen a voice called out, soft and melodious, with the slightest Mediterranean accent.

“Oh they are here? Wonderful!”

Emerging from around the corner, was the same stunning woman Cory had seen earlier. Hunter stared with complete disbelief at the confident, curvy, bronzen beauty in front of him. He cleared his throat, and stepped out in front of Cory eager to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Hunter. This is my wife, Cory.”

“So nice to meet you both. I am Dafni. Please, come in.”

Before Cory could respond, Dafni had taken her by the wrist and was guiding her toward the kitchen, leaving the men in the entryway. Hunter caught himself watching Dafni walk away, the sway of her hips, before Luther’s hand landed heavy on his shoulder.

“Something, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. I mean... sorry, I was staring. That was rude.”

“No worries at all.” He led Hunter out the front door and started up the ramp of the truck. “Hard not to appreciate beauty when you see it. Seems we both have great taste.” He paused, studying Hunter. “Cory looks very... athletic. I bet she has incredible stamina.”

Hunter shifted uncomfortably, searching for a box to grab so he could get away from the conversation. “Thanks. She um... she works hard at it.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, hauling boxes from the U-Haul. Hunter was grateful for the physical activity. But he could feel Luther watching him between trips, like he was working up to something.

Finally, as they set down a particularly heavy trunk in the bedroom, Luther spoke again.

“You know, Hunter, my philosophy, literally and figuratively, has always been that beauty should be shared. Appreciated. The ancient Greeks had a word for it, koinonia.”

He pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his brow. Hunter wasn’t sure how to respond. He couldn’t make heads or tails if Luther was being a creep or friendly.

Luther bent over, unlatching the trunk and Hunter saw why it was so heavy. It was filled to the brim with books. Hunter skimmed the titles: The Holy Bible, Republic, Critique of Pure Reason, and sitting on top of them all was a plaque of the ten commandments. Luther picked it up, wiping the dust from it.

“If you ever wanted to spend time with her, Dafni, I mean, I wouldn’t object.”

Hunter suddenly found it hard to breathe. He looked over his shoulder, half expecting Cory to come rushing in and pull him away.

“She’s her own woman, of course. Makes her own choices,” Luther continued, like it was the most casual conversation in the world as he tossed the plaque onto a chair. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t stand in the way of it. The body is a temple, yes, but temples were meant to be visited. To be experienced. Judging by the art on Cory’s, I’m sure you feel the same way.”

For a moment, Hunter couldn’t process what he’d just heard. His mind was reeling. Did his new neighbor just give him the green light to sleep with his wife? And was he expecting Hunter to do the same?

“I... what?”

“Anyway, we’d best get a move on.” Luther slapped Hunter’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Still got two more of these chests in the truck.” He turned and headed down the stairs with Hunter following, his mouth hanging slightly open.

***

In the kitchen, Dafni crossed her arms beneath her heavy bust, eyeing Cory with an appraising gaze. Normally, Cory would bristle at such scrutiny and would meet it with her own confident stare. But given what had just happened upstairs, she felt exposed. Even more so under Dafni’s dark eyes.

“It is so nice to have a neighbor like you.” Dafni’s voice carried the soft lilt of her accent, vowels rounded in ways that made the words almost musical. “I was worried there would be no women my age here. To be alone somewhere new... this is difficult. You would like wine?”

“No, a bit early in the day. But, thank you.”

“Of course. This has been a huge move for us, but already it feels like home. You and your husband... Hunter? You have been here a long time?”

“Yes actually. A few years.” Cory tried to hide within herself, intimidated and ashamed in front of Dafni’s stalwart and sultry appearance.

“Tell me, what is it you do?” Dafni poured herself a glass of bottom-shelf red blend. The low price tag made Cory relax slightly.

“I actually work as a personal trainer and wellness consultant.”

Dafni didn’t blink, she barely even acknowledged Cory’s proud response.

“Ah. Interesting.” She took a slow sip of wine. “And you and Hunter, how long have you been together?”

“In total? Close to six years. Married for four now.”

“This is impressive.” Dafni set down her glass, her full lips stained faintly crimson. “So many marriages end quickly now, as if people are afraid of commitment, yes?”

She crossed to Cory, reached out without asking, running her fingers along Cory’s bicep. The touch was warm, assessing. “Very strong. You take care of yourself.”

Cory stepped back instinctively, reclaiming her space. The touch had been surprisingly gentle, almost comforting, but still—too familiar. “Yes. I focus on it. Most of my family didn’t really take care of themselves, so... health problems. I wanted to do better.”

“Mm. Diabetes is cruel that way.” Dafni’s eyes held hers and Cory’s pulse began to race. “Especially when it takes someone so young.”

How did she—. Her father had been fifty-four. Type 2 diabetes. She hadn’t said diabetes. Hadn’t mentioned anything specific at all, just “health problems.”

Cory forced herself to breathe. Diabetes was one of the most common health issues in America. Practically an epidemic. And the fitness obsession, the way Cory had phrased it, wanting to do better, anyone perceptive could make that leap. It was a logical guess. Nothing more.

“We can all improve, can we not?” Dafni continued. “There is always more to discover about who we truly are.”

Cory nodded pensively, there was something alluring, even comforting about Dafni, but at same time intimidating.

“So how did you and Luther meet?” She wanted to get the focus away from her family.

“It was like the fates wanted us to meet. It is powerful story. As if our souls were assigned to each other. Destiny. I tell you another time full story, no? He is very—”

Before she could finish her thought, the men came in with the last of the boxes. Hunter shot Cory a look she’d seen a dozen times before, a silent plea that told her he was ready to go. She was on her feet before she realized she’d moved, crossing to him and slipping her arm through his.

“We should get going and let you get settled.” Hunter extended his hand to Luther.

“Of course. It was lovely meeting you both.” Luther’s gaze cut to Cory, and the hairs on her arms stood up.

“We’re um... right next door if you need anything,” Cory said, already taking a step backward toward the door.

“So,” Cory said the second they were outside and out of earshot. “That was—”

“Fucking weird,” Hunter finished, anxious to get back to their house to tell his wife everything Luther had said.

***

“He said what?”

“I know. They’re swingers, right? They have to be.”

They’d barely closed the front door before Hunter dropped the bomb, like he couldn’t hold the weight of it another second.

Cory’s face was twisted up, her button nose crinkled along with her soft cheeks that always made Hunter smile. She headed towards the kitchen.

“I don’t know about that. I mean, those two?” She looked out the kitchen window at the house next door. It looked peaceful, quiet. She thought about what Dafni was saying as the boys walked in. He’s very... what? Was she setting Cory up to let her know that she could share? Bile threatened the back of her throat and she shook the thought free. “I mean, you saw him, you saw her. What if it’s not what it looks like? What if she’s being coerced somehow? Trafficked, maybe?” She knew how it sounded even as she said it, reaching for explanations that made sense. “I know that sounds extreme, but it would explain the... obvious mismatch.”

“I seriously doubt that, but I guess it would explain the... obvious.”

He squeezed past her in the kitchen, his presence always reminding her just how small it all was. He carefully arranged the ingredients for their meal tonight, organic chicken breasts with a rub of Calabrian chili, roasted potato medallions with Italian seasoning and a sliced orange pepper. It was a simple dinner, healthy, and exceptionally tasty every time he cooked for her.

She loved when he cooked for her. It wasn’t because he was particularly skilled, but because he tried. Because it was one of the ways he showed he cared when words failed him. Hunter began arranging the cutting board.

“What exactly did he say? Hey, want to bang my wife?” Cory rolled her eyes.

“Ok. So get this. Luther and I are talking. I’m helping him out, just moving stuff. I mean, he’s an old guy, figured he could use it. But I was struggling to keep up with him, not gonna lie. But he asked if I wanted to...borrow Dafni.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ok funny man. I get it, he has a hot wife.”

“I’m serious! Completely unprompted, as casual as saying hello. And the thing is I can tell he wasn’t joking. Like, he was talking about the Greeks and sharing. It was insane.”

Cory crossed her legs under the dining room table. Checking her phone for some text that wasn’t there. She knew Hunter was telling the truth. And it instilled a deep insecurity in her that she hadn’t felt in years. Dafni was everything she wasn’t, and couldn’t ever be. She bit her lip.

“Dafni knew about my dad.”

“What?” Hunter’s eyes widened. “What do you mean knew about him?”

“It was probably nothing but we were talking about work and I said I try to stay active because health wasn’t a priority in my family and then she said something about diabetes and dying at a young age.”

Hunter added vegetables to the chicken, the aroma filling the air making Cory’s mouth water.

“Are you sure she didn’t just mean like, in general?”

“I guess. I mean, so like sometimes I really do feel these vibrations. Energies. You can call it anything, a gut feeling, vibes, whatever. And something felt off about how she knew. Not just a lucky guess. It was too specific.” She shook her head, seeing the look on his face. “I’m not saying she’s psychic or anything. I’m just... I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“I kinda get what you mean. I’m not into that. You know that. But I know you are and I trust your perception over mine. I really do.”

Cory nodded, tucking the same errant strand of hair that came from behind her ear, back into its rightful place.

“I’m relieved. I thought you were just gonna say it’s all because of what happened upstairs.”

“No. No. I think even if that hadn’t happened, this all would have been the same. But maybe we are passing judgement. Maybe we just need more time to get to know them.”

“It’s all weird. Everything feels odd. Off. Even their decor.”

“Their decor?”

Cory rubbed her eyes, feeling unusually fatigued, drained from the events of what was already a short day. The familiar sounds of Hunter hoisting the cast iron pan onto the burner was comforting, allowing her mind to focus again.

“Everything was old. I couldn’t place any of it. Like all vintage but some of it was just weird. Did you catch that side table in their living room?”

“No. There were other things to look at if you catch my drift.”

“Oh my god you’re such a pig!” She playfully flipped him off as he chuckled, popping a slice of pepper into his mouth. She sighed as loud as she could before continuing.

“The side table looked like a cinder block. The ottoman looked like it could have been from the Ottoman Empire. I mean you saw Dafni, you think someone like her would want to live in that space?”

“I dunno. Maybe she likes that kind of stuff. Maybe that’s why she’s with Luther.”

“I guess.”

Cory drummed her fingers on the table as the sizzling of the chicken breasts nestling against the cast iron pan filled the kitchen and dining room. Her stomach already began growling in anticipation. She stood and leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.

“Something else that was strange.” Cory paced the kitchen unable to let the topic go. “Dafni also has a tattoo right behind her ear.”

“What, like a semicolon or something?” Hunter handed her a strip of the pepper. “Those are pretty common.”

“No, not that. I don’t even know how to describe it. I know a lot about esotericism, but this was a cross... I guess? But a circle or something in the center, like a hook throughout all of it. The base was like a trumpet, you know? Kind of wide, and there were letters all around it. I thought they were equations but they weren’t. It was strange.”

“I didn’t notice.” Hunter winked at her. “Maybe when we invite her over for the orgy I’ll take a look.”

“Gross. Could you not. The last thing I need is to think of them naked.”

Neither one of them could deny that Luther and Dafni remained complete enigmas. Both undecided if they even wanted to learn more about their new neighbors. They sat down to a dinner held mostly in silence, small talk when needed, common questions of a comforting domesticity, soon they were clearing the table and listening to a podcast.

They were loading the dishwasher when the first moan drifted through the wall. Wailing moans of complete desire. Cory froze, dish in hand. Hunter’s eyes went wide.

Hunter grinned ear to ear lightly elbowing Cory. She slapped his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

“So much for not thinking of them naked.”

Another moan, louder this time. Then a rhythmic thudding of a bedframe against the wall and Dafni’s voice rising in pitch, words in a language Cory didn’t recognize mixed with English. “Yes, yes, please—”

“Jesus,” Hunter sounded like he was in awe. “Is she—”

“Either the best actress in the world or...” Cory trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Hunter turned off the water so they could better hear the fierce coupling next door. Panting, thudding, soft screams, and cries of ecstasy, each demanding thrust carried Dafni to some place else, where her screams weren’t even heard by her. But they were impossible to miss for Cory and Hunter.

Cory couldn’t even form words. Just shook her head and went back to loading the dishwasher, hands trembling slightly as she rinsed a plate that was already clean.