Not My Neighbor Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Not My Neighbor

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Flora Ferrari

Book Information:

Nothing like an unexpected airport run to soothe the mind and calm the nerves. Right?
Dad’s out of town on business and I’ve only just set my bags down home from a trip myself when I get the call.
His newest neighbor is due back from overseas, so would I be a doll and pick him up? Gas money’s under the fruit bowl.
Dad explains the guy’s an editor at a major magazine, and I just finished majoring in photography, so… It could be a foot in the door, maybe even a job prospect but most likely just a good place to start picking a professional’s brain about how to get ahead.
Dad tells me his name, Jake Casey. Or was it Chet Basie? I can’t tell, his phone’s cutting in and out.
Drake Lacy? No, that’s not it either. Dammit. Now I’m thinking of ‘baked pastries’.
I’ve got an hour to kill before my flight, may as well check out the new extension on the airport.
Try and get my head around the ‘new architecture’ that costs a truckload but always looks like there are pieces left over.
Something I don’t expect to see is what I really like. But I know what I like when I see it. I always know what I want when it presents itself. It’s not so much what I like either, but rather who.
Seeing her from behind, watching her curves without her seeing me, I suddenly forget all about my trip.
Suddenly forget everything including my age and my reason for doing anything from now on that doesn’t involve me and her. Together, alone.
* Not My Neighbor is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
Books by Author:

Flora Ferrari

Chapter One


“I know I said I’d pick you up from the bus station honey, but the Baxter & Chambers account is what keeps a roof over our heads. I need to be in Houston tonight,” Dad says apologetically.

But something tells me this is only the warm up.

I’ve only just got home myself, a nine hour bus trip after spending two months working at the internship from hell.

No business class on a Greyhound either, I was lucky not to have a seat next to the bus’s bathroom.

“It’s okay, dad.” I lie. Still mildly furious that he texted to tell me, then didn’t pick up when I tried calling him.


His job as a legal services accountant means he travels a lot. It also means he has contracts open and close quicker than the books he’s working on, depending on the firm.

This month it’s Houston, next month might be Hawaii.

Sounds glamorous, but I’d forgotten just how much dad’s never around, being away at college for so long myself.

“Alrighty. Have a safe—” I start to say after a long pause, drawing the real reason for his call out of him, like water from a well.

“Uh. There’s just one more thing, Krystal,” he adds quickly and I roll my eyes.

I don’t really mind. Whatever dad needs I can help. I’m just cranky after a long bus trip and am dying for a bath at home after so long away.

“We have a new neighbor since you finished college,” he tells me. I can hear the airport intercom in the background and he breaks up for a moment.

“…only until his new house is built. I’ve been feeding his Koi while he’s been away.”


There’s another long period of static where I can’t quite hear what he’s saying, but I think he’s trying to tell me the guy’s name.

“You’re breaking up dad,” I tell him twice, and he quickly explains, “I gotta go anyway honey, but he’s due in at four from London. The flight number’s on the kitchen table, along with the keys and some gas money.”

“What?” I almost shout, noticing the time as it clicks.

I’m the one picking this guy up from the airport.


I’ll barely have enough time to get gas let alone be at the airport by four.

“You can’t miss him,” My dad laughs to himself. “My age. Tall, dark, and handsome like me. Look, I gotta go. Oh! There’s a guy coming to look at the yard tomorrow morning, early, the neighbor recommended him. I just don’t have time to mow and clip anything anymore…I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, thanks a million sweetie. Love you,” he says swiftly before the call drops out completely.

“Love you too, Dad,” I murmur, tossing my head from side to side, groaning as I drag myself through the door.

There are dad’s spare car keys, a scribbled note, and a crisp Ben Franklin, shifting my mood for the better staring up at me.

A hundred dollars for ‘gas money’ does sweeten the deal just a little. But dad always leaves something extra while he’s away if I’m home alone. ‘Just in case’ money he calls it.

Just in case I need a pizza later on instead of reheated leftovers.

I can see the flight number and I know the time it’s due, but what the hell was the guy’s name?

Dad told me his name but he was breaking up so much I couldn’t make it out.

Jake Casey.

Or was it Pete Basie? Nah. Couldn’t have been that.

Drake Lacey? No, that’s not it either.

Dammit. Now I’m thinking of ‘baked pastries’.

Shit. Either way, I’d better get moving if I’m gonna make it at all.

Tall dark and handsome sounds easy enough to spot, and I’m sure dad’s described me to him as well so we shouldn’t have too much trouble finding each other.

Petite, thick, and blond or most likely heavy set would be the polite description if I ever went missing.

Although dad would never say that about my weight. It’s just how I’d describe myself.

But how many tall and dark guys are there?

Just as many as there are short blond, thick girls I guess.

But handsome though? I think I’ll be the judge of that.

Not that an older guy or any guy for that matter would even think of looking at me twice.

Romance hasn’t exactly been a feature in my life, except maybe in a book or a movie.

Rushing now to get ready and knowing I’ll be pushing it to make it on time, I call out to the empty bathroom as I pass it.

“Tonight, bath. I promise.” I hear my voice echo back, already looking forward to a long soak in the tub and way too many slices of my favorite local pizza with my newfound wealth.

“Flights are always delayed anyway,” I tell myself in the car on the way, thumbing the flight number into my phone’s internet search and groaning loudly as the traffic backs up on the freeway.