The Brothers Next Door (A Striker Brothers Romance #1)

by Terry Towers

  But what if it wasn’t? What if it was a burglar? Crime was high in this area. If Nate had left the door unlocked anyone could have just walked in. I looked around frantically for anything that could be used as a weapon. The razor, nope. My eyes shifted to the plunger. I grabbed it, feeling the weight in my hand and then setting it back down in disgust—that wouldn’t hurt a kitten. My eyes finally landed on a can of hair spray. Grabbing it, I flicked off the top and then grabbed the lighter I used to light my candles. In the movies people used the combo as a torch. I wasn’t sure if it worked in real life, but it was the best idea I had.

  Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the door handle and slowly twisted it, attempting to be as quiet as possible. If it was indeed an intruder, then the element of surprise was all I had, though considering the person came into the apartment while the shower was going and now it was off, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that I was going to be coming out at any second.

  Opening the door a crack, I peeked out. There was no one in the kitchen, and I couldn’t see into the living room. What if they were behind the door just waiting for me to come out so they could grab me and put a chloroform rag out over my mouth? I’d wake up strapped to the bed with some hunch-backed, disfigured man wearing a mask sitting in a chair across the room with his hard dick in his hand waiting for me to wake.

  Fuck. I gave my head a shake. I seriously needed to cut down on watching horror movies—they were giving me too many ideas that I didn’t need or want to have.

  Here goes everything, I thought as I pushed open the door and charged into the living room, can of hairspray and lighter at the ready in front of me. If it was an intruder, they’d better hope this wouldn’t work. If it was indeed Nate, then I was about to experience one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

  “Jesus, woman, what’s with the hairspray and lighter?” Misty crinkled her nose up as she looked up at me from her place on the sofa. “Careful with that or you’ll end up burning the place down.” She looked around herself and grimaced. “’Course, you might actually be doing this place a favor.”

  “What are you doing here?” I set the can and lighter on the end table and took a seat in the arm chair across from the sofa. “How did you get in, was the door unlocked?”

  She laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You gave me your spare key last week, remember?”

  It took me a moment, but sure enough, the memory of giving her the spare key appeared in my mind. “Okay, then the second question would be why are you here?”

  “To make sure you’re okay and bring you a morning coffee.” She motioned to the paper Starbucks coffee cup which was untouched.

  “And…” That wasn’t the only reason, she couldn’t fool me for a second.

  “And to get the gossip,” she added with a smirk before taking a sip from her coffee cup. “So, let’s hear all the dirty details.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I picked up the coffee and took a drink.

  “Bullshit. Just by looking at you I can tell you got laid.”

  Heat began to rise up to my cheeks and I found myself unable to meet her inquisitive gaze, partially because I was never good at talking about sexual stuff with my friends, but also because I was somewhat embarrassed that he’d given me a night of passion unlike anything I’d experienced before and then left a note. How cliché. Way to make a girl feel like a whore. “What I did or didn’t do is hardly any of your business. I had a good time with Nate and that’s the end of it.”

  “Are you going to see him again? When did he leave?” She sat forward on the sofa, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  With a sigh, I stood up. “Wait here.” She wasn’t going to drop it until I gave her at least something. Might as well give it to her straight up.

  “Sure.”

  Walking into the bedroom, I closed the door and quickly put on a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt. There wasn’t much point in dressing up considering I was doing more packing today. Once dressed, I grabbed the note and rejoined Misty in the living room. Flopping down beside her on the sofa, I handed her the note.

  She looked down at it and made a face. “Oh, this is pretty douchey. He seriously left this? Did he leave a fucking twenty along with it?”

  “Nah. No twenty, just the note. Guess it wasn’t good enough to pay for.”

  “Was he at least good? You weren’t looking for a relationship anyhow, so…”

  “The man left a thank you note on my night side table and snuck off sometime in the middle of the night while I was sleeping, Misty.” But she did have a point. I had gone out to get fucked, no relationship required, and that was exactly what he’d done for me.

  “So, how was he? Was he at least good in the sack? Does he know where the G-spot is?”

  Despite my embarrassment, I laughed. “He definitely knows where the G-spot is. And it was pretty evident that he’s been with a lot of women. I almost think I should be going into the sexual health clinic just to make sure.”

  “You did use condoms, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then, Layla, I think you’re overstating, just a little.”

  I wasn’t so sure. Though, I had to admit, last night when his hands were on me I couldn’t have cared less how many women he’d been with. Time to change the topic. “Did you end up hooking up, or did you end up going home?”

  “Went home.” She grinned. “Once my mission had been achieved.”

  “So, I’m a mission now?”

  “You were a mission. You got laid so mission accomplished.”

  “Great, because I have another important mission for you.”

  “Oh?” Her eyes gleamed as she looked at me.

  “I have to repack everything I unpacked over the past month in case I get to move in early. The building owner said he’d call me tomorrow with a definitive yay or nay answer.”

  She groaned out load. “I would but…”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “But… Come on and make the excuse good.”

  Misty opened her mouth to respond and I raised a manicured finger, stopping her. “When I returned home, you did say anything I needed you’d be there for me. And right now, I need help moving into a decent place before I get murdered in my sleep.”

  “Dammit.”

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Moving day. And it’d come early. Giddy-up! The relief of getting out of the dive I was living in was well worth having to move a second time in less than two months. While I still blushed a little over my one-night stand, it was already fading from my memory. It was just an experience and in a city with over eight million residents, it wasn’t like I was ever going to see NYPD officer Nate Striker again anyhow.

  I’d had a busy morning and afternoon. The movers had already picked up my belongings and delivered them to my new place and I was in the process of moving the final and most important thing, my blue point Siamese cat, Zeus.

  As I parked my car in the private garage that belonged to the building, I got out and grabbed his cat carrier from the back seat. Zeus’ wide blue eyes peered out at me from behind the bars and he let out a high-pitched screech. He was a very vocal boy.

  “Yes, I know. It sucks in there. We’re almost home—again,” I assured him, closing the door and pressing the lock button on the key fob, locking the car. Owning a car while living in Manhattan was silly considering how amazing the train system here was, but I’d bought it when I moved to Bangor after college, and even though I knew I was going to be moving back to Manhattan, never sold it. At least not yet. Sadly, the car would be stuck in the garage 98% of the time, only coming out if I needed to do something outside the city.

  I inserted my card key and waited for the elevator to arrive. Zeus let out another loud cry so I pulled up the crate and peeked in at him. “Good kitty. We’re almost home.” After a moment, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

  Giving the elevator a cursory glance, I walked inside as a man stepped out and i
nto the parking garage. Zeus seemed to have a huge dislike for the other person, lunging against the front of the cage and hissing. “Excuse me,” he uttered.

  I recognized that voice. My head shot up and I stared at the source of the voice as he brushed past me and began walking away without looking back. But I’d gotten just enough of a look at the man’s face to realize in horror that I knew him, intimately.

  Oh fuck me, Nate Striker was my neighbour?

  It was a large building, maybe he was just visiting… Yeah, that was it. Just a visit. It was a freak coincidence. Though another thought hit me as the doors slid shut with me yet to make my floor selection. The bastard didn’t even acknowledge he knew me!

  Maybe it wasn’t him…

  Chapter 5

  Darrin

  What a hell of a day. My shoulder hurt like a bitch, thanks to a criminal I was in pursuit of who I stupidly chased off a two-story building and into a dumpster. Who did I think I was, Superman? The criminal I could understand considering he was on speed. Me, it was plain stupidity. So the remainder of my day was spent in the hospital, putting humpty dumpty back together again. Why couldn’t crime take a break—just one day, that’s all I ask. Why did the criminals have to run? We’re going to get them anyhow, why run? Just fucking admit defeat, give up, and save us all a whole lot of hassle and emergency room visits.

  Ha! Fat chance of that, though.

  The lieutenant was nice enough to give me a couple of days off to recuperate. Maybe I would take Nate up on his offer to go to the clubs and get myself a little stress relief of the female variety. My shoulder was messed up, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still fuck.

  Who was I kidding, one night stands were Nate’s thing. The latest notch on his bedpost was some chick that had just moved back here. According to him she was a little uptight at first, but by the end of the night she was like a wildcat. Though what Nate said and the truth when it came to women were two entirely different things.

  Entering the elevator, I pressed the button for the thirty-fourth floor and then leaned against the railing at the back of the elevator, watching for the doors to slide closed. I was so exhausted and hopped up on medication that just waiting for the doors to close felt like an eternity.

  “Hold up,” a female voice called just as the doors came together. I hesitated a moment, then leaned forward and pressed the OPEN DOORS button. “Thanks,” she said, panting a little.

  I gave her a quick glance. She was an attractive woman, with raven black hair that fell to her lower back and dark eyes that contrasted with her ivory skin. After a moment, it registered that she was the woman I’d passed in the elevator earlier today, the one with the screeching cat. I fucking hated Siamese cats, obnoxious little bastards. It was as though they always had to be at the center of attention.

  She stared at me a moment, her porcelain complexion growing even paler than it had been a moment ago, looking at me as if I were a mutant with three heads and a tail. She opened her mouth as if to say something to me, then snapped it shut again. Abruptly turning from me, she made a motion to press the elevator button and then froze. Her hand pulled away from the buttons and she stepped back to the other corner of the elevator, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  Whatever… beautiful, but peculiar. Just my luck psycho bunny with the hell cat was on my floor.

  Instead of asking her what her problem was, I sighed, closing my eyes, and leaning back against the railing, not giving her another glance. I was irritable. Hurting and grumpy, and just needed sleep. Maybe with some shut-eye I wouldn’t be such a bastard with a hate on for a cat.

  With my eyes closed, I could hear her breathing. I ignored it. The ride seemed to take forever when in fact it was closer to thirty seconds. When the elevator dinged my eyes flew open and I stepped forward, pausing a moment to let her exit before me. She scurried out of the elevator as if hell hounds were on her heels, power walking down the hallway. She came to a stop, one apartment before mine, and attempted to thrust the key into the lock, but seemed to be having trouble. Her hand was shaking, ever so slightly.

  Looking down at my uniform, it made me wonder if her behaviour had less to do with being a psycho bunny and more to do with the fact she was intimidated because I was a cop. The only person who would be in a rush to get away from a cop would be someone who had something to hide…

  I clucked my tongue off the roof of my mouth as I walked past her, pausing a moment to inspect her from the side. She didn’t look like an addict. Maybe she was a call girl? This building wasn’t cheap so it didn’t usually get much in the way of riff raff. My instincts were telling me there was something wrong with this girl and my instincts were never wrong. I’d have to keep an eye on her and see—just not tonight, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Layla

  You have got to be kidding me! I hesitated before entering the elevator as I stared at the man who’d fucked me and left me a thank you note. I was at a loss of what to do or say. My mouth opened, but no words seemed to want to come out. What in the hell I was planning on saying if I could find words was beyond me.

  He was looking at me as if he had no idea who I was. Not even so much as a hello. What kind of asshole does that? One that fucks a new girl each night, that was who, a voice in the back of my mind chimed in. I bet he didn’t even bother to log his conquests anymore, he had so many. Squaring my shoulders, I stepped all the way into the elevator and went to press the button for my floor and realized that it was already pressed.

  Shit, he lived on my floor!

  Stepping back, I leaned against the opposite corner of the elevator and silently prayed that the ride would be quick so I could end this torture. I kept watching him out of the corner of my eyes, while pretending to watch the numbers on the digital display go up. As the seconds passed, the elevator felt more and more like a tomb, it was becoming suffocating.

  Maybe he’s waiting for me to break the ice. The thought was fleeting. He wasn’t a shy person, so if he wanted to talk to me he would. As soon as the elevator dinged and doors slid open I stumbled over my own feet I was in such a rush to get out.

  I could hear him hot on my heels as I rushed down the hallway, not wanting to run and look like an idiot, but walking fast enough that it didn’t look suspicious. The key was already in my hand by the time I reached the door.

  Ohmygod! Why can’t I get this damned key into the lock!

  I groaned out my frustration when the key didn’t seem to want to insert into the lock. My hand was shaking and I couldn’t stop it. Finally, just as he walked past me, the key found its spot and slid in. I gave it a twist, and the lock made a soft click and I could have cried out in triumph. Another second and I’d be out of the hallway and safe inside.

  As I opened the door and proceeded to step inside, I couldn’t stop my head from turning and taking a quick look in the direction of Nate, who was opening the door to the apartment next to me. Shit. A part of me hoped that he’d look in my direction one last time. He didn’t. He opened the door and slipped in without so much as a secondary glance.

  Stepping inside of my apartment, I quickly closed the door behind me and fell back against it, releasing the breath I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding until that very moment. That was when the indignation set in. Why was I running away from him like a scared bunny rabbit? I bet he hadn’t given me a second thought and his blatant disregard for me both this morning and again right now was proof positive of that. If he was not bothered by my presence than I’d be damned if I’d be troubled by his.

  Screw Nate Striker! The night we had together was vaulted.

  I nodded to myself. That was that.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  That wasn’t that.

  In the past three days, I’d run into Nate two more times and each time I was greeted with cold indifference. Each instance pissed me off more than the last. Next time, I swore to myself that he’d get a piece of my mind. Sure, I may hav
e been a one-night stand but would it have killed him to say hello?

  Struggling with two brown bags of groceries from the corner store, I pressed the elevator button for my floor and rode the way up. When the doors slid open it revealed Nate in full uniform. He stepped aside as I exited.

  Not even giving him the satisfaction of a glance, I lifted my chin and strode past him. I’d give him a piece of my mind—next time.

  “Whoa, what’s with the cold shoulder?” I heard him call after me, followed by footsteps rushing to catch up.

  I was so shocked by him talking to me, I stumbled over my own feet. Luckily, a strong hand shot out and steadied me before we had an accident which would have included spilt milk and broken eggs.

  Spinning to face him, my brow creased as I looked up into his handsome face. “Excuse me?”

  He laughed. “I’m Nate. You remember me, right? From Saturday night…” He looked genuinely confused and hurt that I hadn’t acknowledged him. Well good, he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

  “I know who you are. What do you want?”

  He hesitated a moment his smile faltering, but then his smile returned. “Look, if you’re upset over the note, I apologize. I had an early shift and didn’t want to wake you. We had a long night. I got home and realized I’d forgotten to get your number. I went back to your apartment yesterday and I was told you’d moved out.”

  I shrugged. “It was a one-night stand. No strings attached. You were very specific on that. So, whatever.” The man had nerve.

  He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, a crack appearing in his demeanor. “How about we start over. Maybe actually get to know each other a little better.”

  As much as I was angry with him, I felt the need to give him the benefit of the doubt. Call it the doormat in me…