by Edie Sommers
I froze mid-motion of picking up the FedEx package left on the porch, my hair in a messy ponytail. Thank God I’d worn a pair of decent sleep shorts and a matching shirt, somewhat presentable.
“We’re going for a run. Wanna go?”
Friend zoned. I’d been friend zoned.
But I didn’t notice too many women coming around lately. While I still fantasized about both of my neighbors, they were my friends.
And how could I choose between them?
I nodded and skedaddled into the house and changed into running gear. At least my inability to match their pace left me free to swoon over their perfect glutes.
I could look, but I couldn’t touch.
I sat on my ratty couch, phone in one hand, glass of Moscato in the other, and wailed to Darlene, “Why don’t they want me?”
4
Classic Stones blasted through my earbuds as I scooted across the floor in socked feet, feather duster for a microphone. I’d been their backup singer for years—they just didn’t know. Probably a good thing. Coworkers occasionally winced during serenades of Happy Birthday.
Hmmm… The lady in the next cube hadn’t had a birthday in quite some time. Maybe I should ask someone if I’d missed it. She deserved singing and a cake. Maybe the next one wouldn’t come out lopsided.
Oh! I’d missed my beat and returned to the far side of the hardwood floor to resume my inside-out sock buffing. Unorthodox? Maybe. But dancing and singing made the chores get done. If you couldn’t have fun while doing something, why do it?
Movement caught my eye outside the living room window, and…
Oh. My. God.
The rug caught my foot mid-slide. Eeep! Floor, meet hands and knees. Ouch! An earbud shot across the room to land who knew where.
Crap. They didn’t call ‘em hardwood floors for nothing.
“Okay, I’m okay,” I muttered to the black and white cat careening from the room. “Magoo, you’re a traitor.” So like the furry little fair-weather friend to leave me in my moment of need.
I rubbed skin already beginning to purple, lopsided music still pouring from my one remaining earbud. Doggone it! Wait a minute. What had distracted me in the first place?
Oh, yeah. I’d caught a glimpse out the window at a wet dream come to life.
Huffing hair away from my face, I crawled toward the window sill. Who cared about bruised knees with such fantastic scenery? Besides, bruised knees were a life hazard. At least in my life.
Thank God, Mom hadn’t named me Grace. Someone might have sued for false advertising.
I peeked out around the living room curtain and sighed at the sight awaiting me. How could the world stand so much perfection in one place?
Andy and Jack, wearing nothing but shorts and huge smiles as they washed their vehicles in the driveway shared by our duplex: Jack’s Chevy truck, and Andy’s sleek little Mustang convertible.
God bless warm weather. For the past few months I’d imagined what they looked like under clothes, even caught a peek of washboard abs when a T-shirt rode up, but my imagination fell far short of reality.
Jack ran a soapy cloth over the truck’s fender and I let out a moan. New life goals: be a truck fender.
They stood right outside, totally oblivious to the neighbor drooling over them. A niggling of guilt pooled in my belly for being such a perv—for about half a minute, until the scenery distracted me again.
Cassie, get a grip, girl!
Water glistened on their tanned skin. My mouth went dry. I could go get a drink of water or…
Lick droplets off their chests.
I smacked a hand over my face. Bad Cassie! A minute later I peeked through splayed fingers.
Jack sported a sprinkling of dark curls on his chest, with a tiger tattoo I’d never seen before covering most of his back, while Andy favored the hairless, clean cut look. How could two twins look and be so different?
How’d they manage to hide so much beauty under winter clothes? And why had I never seen them shirtless before? Had I been blind last summer?
Jack reached down and rinsed a sponge in a bucket. Oh, taunt me with your ripped abs and firm pecs, why don’t ya?
Perfect guys. Perfect boyfriend material. Why then, did they go through girlfriends at such an astonishing rate?
Oh well. I needed to check my mail and hiding behind my curtains made me feel a bit stalkerish. They were my friends. We hung out, drank beer (in Jack’s case) and wine (in mine and Andy’s).
I’d pulled myself upright and had my hand on the door handle before I glanced down. Heat rose in my face while I tiptoed away from the window.
Maybe wearing panties and bra outside wasn’t my best idea.
I removed the tiny speaker from my ear and nearly tripped over my feather duster microphone on the way to the bedroom.
Magoo lay sprawled on the bed like he owned the place. What a… cat.
I shuffled across the floor to my closet, easing the door open, ready to jump back from a clothing avalanche. Nothing. Good. A strong wind might have toppled shoe boxes, stacked purses, and clothing I never wanted to see again and shoved into the closet out of sight.
Hmm… What should I wear? I removed a lacy sundress. No. Without stopping for full makeup they’d know I’d thrown on something sexy to get their attention. Shorts? A T-shirt? What said “casual” without being frumpy?
One after the other I tossed items onto the bed. Nope. Nada. Definitely not. What? I’d actually bought this ugly thing?
What was wrong with me? We saw each other on a nearly daily basis. Why all of the sudden the school-girl-crush nerves?
They’d made it clear they had no interest in me as anything other than a friend.
By the time I got dressed the guys would be gone. Or bundled up because it took me until next winter to get ready.
Oh well. I slipped on a not-too-fancy sundress. Now, sandals? Heels? Flipflops?
Flipflops. Butt in the air, I dug through the bottom of the closet to find a matched set. Okay, all ready to go.
Until I caught a look at myself in the mirror. Ye gods!
I angrily jerked at the elastic band holding back the failing ponytail, gritting my teeth at the snags and pulls. Finally, the darned thing slipped free. My hair defied brushing, but I finally succeeded in smoothing the strands into a semblance of order.
A brown cascade fell down to the middle of my back. There.
Only took me ten minutes. I shuddered at the pile of clothes on the bed I’d have to put up later.
Oh, well, time to work on Operation Un-friend-Zone.
I checked my chin for drool, managed to make it to the front door without incident, and sucked in a breath. Cassie, they’re your friends. Why are you so nervous? Yeah. Friends. Nothing more. Not the first flirtation or innuendo.
Darn it.
I attempted a relaxed smile and headed out the door and down the steps to the driveway, though my heart pounded loudly in my ears. “Hey, y’all!” I waved like an idiot.
Southern humidity descended, turning my hair into a frizzy mess in two seconds flat.
Andy turned my way. Jack yanked him back before he sprayed my sundress with water. Dripping wet, the thin fabric would have clung to my curves. Maybe then they might have noticed my body.
For nearly a year we’d been on friendly terms, but they’d seemingly not noticed I was even female. They liked curvy girls, they’d brought some home. Also, some reed-thin model types, short and cute. Shucks, at this rate, they’d have to move soon to find women they hadn’t dated before.
What the hell was wrong with me that neither one ever asked me out? Did I look too girl-next-door-ish? I supposed I could highlight my medium brown hair with a purple streak or change my gray eyes to something alien with contacts, but I drew the line firmly at black lipstick or pretending I didn’t bring home an armload of mysteries and science fiction from the library every time I went. Not to mention my massive collection of e-books and audiobooks. Still, nothing beat
holding a book in your hand.
Was it too much to ask that the whole neighbor thing put them off, and not me? I mean, they both smiled when we talked.
Was it because they were my landlords and I wrote them a rent check each month?
Andy dashed to the spigot to turn off the water. The men stood side by side, Andy staring at the hose in his hand, Jack giving me a lopsided smile that should’ve been labeled “panty remover”. My insides turned to mush.
I tried not to take it personally.
“It’s not too cool today, not too hot. How about a run?” I suggested. Of course, they were faster than me and I usually lagged behind, because I was slower, mind you, not because I enjoyed the view of tight butts undulating beneath thin cotton shorts. No, not at all.
“Actually, Cassie…” Crimson flushed Andy’s cheeks. I wasn’t sure Jack could blush if he tried.
Jack elbowed Andy, who flushed even more. Jack rolled his eyes and picked up the sentence, “…we’d like to talk to you.”
They did tag-team on sentences a lot, since Andy was quiet and Jack probably talked in his sleep. Of course, you’d think talking talents would be an asset for a car salesman. Nope, Andy sold cars at the car lot they’d taken over from their grandfather, and Jack made his living buying cars in need of help and “restoring them to their former glory”. His words, not mine. Then his brother sold them.
They wanted to talk to me? Be still, my pitty-patting heart. More than likely they planned to attend a car sale somewhere and wanted me to house sit again. Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not like you ogle their underwear. Well, there was that once, and I wasn’t ogling. I merely picked up the black silky material off of the floor and put it in the hamper.
But, talk to me? They could recite their grocery list and I’d be all ears. “Sure. Want to come into the house for a drink?”
Jack nodded, Andy stared at the ground. Must suck being shy with such an outgoing brother. But shyness didn’t slow Andy down much—he’d brought home as many women as Jack.
I headed into the house, tuning out their quiet conversation. Sometimes, if Andy got nervous, his brother spoke for him. They needed time to plan. But why? They’d asked me to house sit before, and if they wanted to go out for pizza they’d just ask.
I opened the door slowly. Exactly how far had I gotten with my morning cleaning? Please let there not be dirty plates or glasses left lying around. And let them not ask to see the bedroom. Under other circumstances…
They followed me into the semi-presentable kitchen. I rambled through the refrigerator and pushed something fuzzy and green out of the way to grab Jack a beer and Andy a soda. Me? I’m a root beer kind of gal until noon. I tried to ignore the smell of sunshine, sweat, and cologne on their skin, the way their gazes never left my face.
They’d been gorgeous when viewed from the living room window. Up close and personal? Every part of my body tingled with want.
Had they even bothered to check out my ass at all while it stuck out of the refrigerator?
“What ya got on your minds?” I sat down on a barstool at my small kitchen island and nodded toward the table, where they usually sat. Be cool, Cassie, be cool. I could do this. I’d seen enough videos and read enough issues of Cosmo to hold myself together in front of the opposite sex.
Or so I tried to convince myself. I gripped my drink to hide the trembling in my fingers.
Andy and Jack remained standing. So serious. Too serious.
As one they studied me, assessing stares starting at my feet, working up to my head, and back down. Andy blushed again and Jack undressed me with his eyes. What the hell? The temperature shot up a good ten degrees. Now came my turn to blush.
Okay, I’d obviously fallen asleep face down on the couch again on cleaning day and would wake up spitting cat hair and cursing myself for wasting a perfectly good day.
Wait. If this was a dream, shouldn’t the guys be doing wicked things to me by now? Neither said a word until Andy nudged his brother.
“Oh, yeah.” Jack cut his gaze to Andy and back to me. “We want to know if you’d go out with us.”
Soda shot from my mouth and down my dress. I gasped for air. Jack pounded me on the back. Either I hadn’t heard them right, or I’d died and gone to Heaven. Date them? Oh, hell yeah! But… “Both of you?”
“No!” Andy blurted, running a hand through short strands a few shades darker than my own hair. “I mean, well, one at a time.”
They wanted to date me? Both of them? Maybe I’d spent too much time praying for them to notice me if they both noticed me at once.
Jack exchanged a look with Andy. “Yeah, you date him, and then you date me. Give us a few weeks, and if things work out, decide which one of us you like better.”
Date? Both of them? Both of these handsome, hot, wonderful men? What a no brainer. But… decide between them? Tattooed bad boy versus super cute boy-next-door?
This had to be a joke, but the earnest eyes they both gave me said otherwise, even if Jack did smirk a bit, his default expression. Resting sexy face. I summoned enough working brain cells to ask, “Why me? Why now?” While I’d often thought they were in danger of fishing the pond out, dating-wise, in our small town, I didn’t think they’d exhausted the supply of single women for real.
Ever so discreetly, I reached down and pinched my arm. Ow! Okay, not asleep and dreaming.
“We like you.” Jack paused and ran a hand down the back of his neck. “Always have, but neither one of us wanted to ask you out, knowing our brother wanted to too.” He shrugged. “Then we talked, and realized how stupid we were being, passing up a wonderful woman like you.”
Okay. My insides fluttered, and I braced for a “Ha! Ha! Just kidding!” These guys were many things, but not cruel.
Jack’s unwavering stare never left my face. Andy crouched to chin scratch Magoo—and promptly sneezed. Yet, he never took his eyes off me.
Both these men were friends, and I valued that friendship. What if they were serious, I went out with them, and it didn’t work out? Not only did I stand a chance of ruining our relationship, I’d still have to see them every day, unless one of us moved.
Still. They wanted to date me? Seriously? Part of me wanted to jump for joy, while part of me felt a bit faint.
What if I fell totally and helplessly in love, they tired of me like they had all their other dates, and I had to watch them take new women into their house, knowing those women would get Andy and Jack’s attention when I wouldn’t? Would laugh with them. Spend time with them.
Sleep with them.
But what if, like the two men standing before me, earnest expressions on their faces, I was being stupid and risking even more by not taking a chance?
“Can I think about it?” I heard myself say. Stupid! Stupid! You should jump at this chance! my inner voice shrieked.
Jack and Andy’s smiles never faltered. As one they chorused, “Sure.”
Hands balled into fists, I watched them throw away their empty drink cans and trudge back into the yard before I collapsed onto the couch.
They wanted me to what? Oh, God! Oh, God.
They wanted me to date them. I did the only thing a girl could do at a time like that: called my bestie. One ring, two rings… Answer the phone! Answer the phone! The third ring ended with a sleepy-sounding “Hello?”
“Darlene?”
“Yeah,” she answered on a yawn.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a nap. And having the best dream. About my ex, a Harley Davidson, and a bowl of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey.”
Damn. Call me Ms. Bad Timing. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” And I thought I had weird dreams. Though I didn’t want to dwell too much on what her mind called an awesome dream. A Harley? Chunky Monkey?”
“I’m awake now. And craving ice cream, thank you very much. So, what’s up?” Darlene yawned again.
Let her go back to sleep and hope she caught up with the ex on the
motorcycle, or spill my guts? Well, she did ask. “I have a problem I hope you can help me with.”
Darlene sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you? Just take a shoe and bash the hell out of the spider.”
“No. It’s not about a spider”—this time. Of course, in my defense, Carolina Wolf spiders were scary as hell. Also, big as mice. “It’s about a man. Or rather, two.”
“I’ll be right over.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Darlene glared at me, hands on her hips. She hadn’t even bothered to get into the room properly before launching into me. Her copper curls ringed her head like a halo. “Cassandra Marie Davenport, you get your ass right over there and tell them, yes, you’ll date them both. Now.” She ran her gaze up and down my body. “Wait. Not yet. Get in the bedroom and fix your hair first. You’re a hot mess.”
Yeah. I’d been running my hands through my hair. Not to mention the actively shedding kitty sitting in my lap determined that I should wear as much cat hair as he did.
Andy and Jack. Jack and Andy. My brain spun like a hamster on a wheel, occasionally running too fast and getting beaten up by the momentum like I’d seen on viral videos. “But I’ll have to choose. I can’t bear to hurt either of them.” Or myself went unsaid.
Darlene stalked to the couch, placed her hands on my shoulders, and bent until our noses nearly touched and she appeared to have only one eye. “Because I love you, am generous to a fault, and am more than willing to take one for the team”—Darlene splayed one hand across her chest, more dramatic than any diva—“I’ll selflessly take the loser off your hands. How’s that?”
I eased back and eyed Darlene critically, from her frizzy hair, her paint-spattered T-shirt, and the painted pink toenails peeking out from beneath the frayed hem of her blue jeans. “And exactly what would you do with a twenty-seven-year-old man?”
“We’re starting to paint nudes in my art class, and I sure could use him as a model.”
I snorted.
“What? Did you think I’d suddenly go straight to pacify your leftovers?” She shuddered. “Now, give me Brenda down in accounting…”
