Opposites Attract (The Locklaine Boys Book 2)

by Jessica Prince

  There was a reason BJ dance parties were so famous in our apartment, after all.

  We were only about two minutes in when a sudden pounding on the front door caused us to freeze in place, eyes wide.

  “Oh, balls,” Devon gasped, clearly not having thought her revenge plan through all the way. She scrambled for the sound dock and silenced the music. I, however, had just enough booze in my system to make me feel ten feet tall and bullet proof. Side note: tequila and I were a terrible combination. I’d had a shit day, all because of a stupid guy, and I was suddenly in the mood to take my man-hate out on our dick-head of a neighbor by ripping him a new asshole.

  I jumped off the bed and charged for the door, Devon hot on my heels. I reached for the knob and jerked it open, shouting, “You’ve got some nerve, you son of a—” My words lodged in my throat when I got a look at the enraged man standing on the other side of the threshold.

  I KNEW THE MINUTE I got her home that I’d made a huge mistake.

  Admittedly, I’d been more than a little drunk when I decided on the girl who was going to help me with my little… issue, but the second she started making those weird hyena noises I’d lost my buzz, along any hopes at getting a hard on.

  “Oh, yeah!” she cried out as she writhed underneath me. Now, normally a woman panting and moaning like I was a sex God would have been a major boost for my ego. The problem was all we’d done so far was a bit of heavy making out on my bed. And other than the shirt she’d ripped off of me as soon as the door closed (and it was a perfectly good shirt, too), we were still fully clothed.

  I did my best to ignore her ear-splitting mewls as I slid my lips down her neck and made the mistake of placing an open-mouth kiss against her skin. She was wearing so much perfume I could actually taste it. The bitter flavor coated my tongue, making it impossible to continue on with my seduction. Trying to be as discreet as possible, I turned my head so she wouldn’t see me gag.

  Unbeknownst to the fact her perfume just burned off all my taste buds, the woman continued to jerk and twist beneath me, banging my headboard against the wall as she made noises that sounded an awful lot like a cat that just had an unfortunate run-in with a street sweeper… and lost.

  Get your head in the game, Locklaine, I mentally chided, pushing up just enough to pull her shirt over her head. Okay, I thought with a smile as I stared down at her abundant rack encased in deep purple lace, I can work with this.

  “Like what you see?” the woman asked in what I could only assume was supposed to be a seductive voice and not a cringe-inducing, nasally whine. Choosing not to answer in fear it would only make her talk more, I buried my face in her cleavage, only to inhale her noxious perfume and start choking. She began to flail and shout like my near death was pushing her to the brink of orgasm when I was overcome with the sudden urge to jump from the bed and drag the woman whose name I couldn’t remember out the door and slam it in her face.

  Why women thought men actually wanted their women to sound like low-quality porn stars was beyond me. I’d rather my partner have a quiet, body-locking orgasm over the fake shit any day. All I needed was to know it was real and that I gave it to her.

  I lifted up on my elbow and stared down at the woman in my bed, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way in hell I’d be able to have sex with her.

  “Look,” I started, slowly moving backward just in case things went south when I kindly kicked her out of my bed. “You’re beautiful, but—”

  Blaring wails suddenly shot through my bedroom wall. The noise was so loud I actually had to cover my ears. “What the fuck is that?!” I shouted.

  “I think…?” The woman’s face scrunched up as she moved up the bed and pressed her ear to the wall, “…it’s Fall Out Boy?” She listened a little longer. “Yep, definitely Fall Out Boy. I actually love this song.”

  “That’s it!” I snatched her shirt off the floor and threw it on the bed. “You’ve been great and all, but I’m gonna have to call it a night. As you can see, I have a neighbor to murder. It was nice meeting you though.” Grabbing her by the elbow, I escorted her out of my bed, through my furniture-less living room and out the door. It was a dick thing to do, no doubt about it, but I wanted her out of my apartment just as badly as I wanted to kill the woman next door.

  “But… wait,” she stumbled over her words and insanely high heels as she tried to work her clingy top over her head. “I thought—”

  I pulled my door closed behind me and looked back at the woman, giving her words I, in no way, shape, or form, meant. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Promise.”

  Nope. “Yep.” I jabbed the down button over and over until I heard a ding and one set of doors opened. Pushing her in, I gave a little wave and a quick, “Have a good night,” before turning on my bare feet and stomping past my apartment, straight to the door of the woman who’d been a pain in my ass for the past week.

  I beat on her front door with my fists hard enough to know she’d hear me over the music.

  After a few seconds the door flew open with the sound of angry words flying at me. “You’ve got some nerve, you son of a—”

  My jaw dropped as I stared at the woman standing before me, all my rage completely forgotten as I stared into those familiar eyes covered by black-framed glasses. “Delilah?”

  “Holy balls!” she shouted as another woman came sliding to a halt directly behind her.

  “No fucking way!” the brunette shouts. “You’re our douchebag neighbor?”

  “You’re the women with shit-taste in music and no respect for the people that live around them?” I fired back, suddenly remembering what I was doing on their doorstep in the first place.

  “Hey asshole—” the brunette started, but she was interrupted by her tiny roommate who’d just sent her fist flying through the air and directly into my nose.

  “YOU CHEATING SON OF A BITCH!” she screeched as I hunched over, cupping my bleeding nose.

  “What the hell is your problem, crazy?!” I managed to get out. When I was finally able to stand up, my vision was distorted from the tears forming in my eyes. “Jesus Christ! I think you broke my nose!”

  “You deserve worse!” she shouted. “I can’t believe you! You have a beautiful fiancée that you’re marrying in a month, and you’re screwing sluts in your bachelor pad! You’re disgusting!”

  Blinking rapidly to clear the spots from my vision, I looked at Delilah, thinking what a shame it was that someone as adorable as her turned out to be bat-shit crazy. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not engaged!” I pulled my hands away from my nose and looked for blood. “Christ, that hurt. Am I bleeding?” I tipped my head up, trying to stop any potential blood from pouring out.

  Her words were clipped, her voice menacing. “You’re not bleeding, you big baby. And I know you’re engaged. I’ve met your fiancée. And I met you when you came to get her bouquet! Jeez, your memory must be really shitty, huh?” she finished sarcastically.

  I lowered my head and glared at the tiny woman in front of me. “Oh, I remember all right. You were a fucking nut job then, too!”

  She had the audacity to suck in an affronted gasp. “I am not a nut job!”

  Choosing to ignore her objection — seeing as a crazy person never admits they’re crazy, I continued on. “I was doing a favor for my brother’s fiancée, not mine. And I’ll have you know my memory is just fine.”

  The brunette still standing in the doorway let out a little snort and muttered what sounded like, “Wouldn’t put money on that, hotshot.”

  I turned my glare to her. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” She shrugged and gave me a knowing smile, but before I could press further Delilah spoke up.

  “Wait… what do you mean your brother’s fiancée? You’re not engaged to Navie?”

  I scowled the best I could, considering I could feel my pulse in my face. “No, psycho. I’m not engaged to Navie. I’m
not engaged to anyone.”

  Delilah shot her friend a look and the brunette bugged her eyes out and tipped her head to the side in return. It was like they were having a complete conversation with nothing but strange, exaggerated faces before finally remembering that the man one of them had maimed was still standing there.

  “Uh…” Delilah wrung her hands in front of her and let out an awkward laugh. “So this is a little embarrassing.”

  “You don’t say?” I deadpanned, still pinching the bridge of my nose.

  She held her hands out in surrender and had the good grace to look ashamed. “Look, it was all a huge misunderstanding.” Reaching out, she wrapped her fingers around my forearm and, even in my angry state, I couldn’t help but be aware of just how soft her hands were. “If you’ll come in, I’ll get you some ice for your…” she twirled her finger in the general direction on my face and cringed, “…nose.”

  I pulled my arm from her hold, leery of walking into the apartment of the woman who’d just gone all Mohammed Ali on my ass for no good reason. For all I knew, I could have been walking straight into a trap.

  “You’ve done enough. I’ll get my own ice in the safety of my own apartment, thank you very much.”

  I watched as she rolled her eyes dramatically and grumbled something that sounded like “For the love of Buddha” under her breath. She grabbed my arm again, this time, a lot less delicately, and jerked me toward her apartment. “Will you stop being such a baby?”

  “You punched me in the face!” I objected even as I followed after her.

  “In my defense, I thought you deserved it!”

  I narrowed my eyes the best I could, considering I could feel my nose swelling up, as she led me into the living room and shoved me down on the couch. “Speaking as an attorney, that defense wouldn’t count for shit in court.”

  The brunette asked, plopping down on the couch, just inches away, and studying my face like I was something under a microscope. “Personally, I think she did you a favor. You were too pretty before.” She waved her hand in front of my face. “This whole rugged, I-get-in-bar-fights-for-fun look is a definite improvement.”

  Had I fallen into a twilight zone or something? Never in my life had I been accused of being too pretty. “I’m sorry, who are you?” I snapped.

  She smiled widely and held her hand out for me to shake. “Devon McMillon. Del and I are roomies and have been besties since we were young enough to still pee our pants on the regular.”

  “Devon!” Delilah yelled, but it didn’t have any effect on the woman beside me.

  “Richard Locklaine,” I offered, shaking her hand. “Not to be confused with my brother…” I shot a look at Delilah. “You know, the one marrying Navie?”

  She shuffled from foot to foot and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Uh… I’ll just go get you that ice.”

  Despite myself, the corner of my mouth curled up in a smirk. The woman was a total whack-job, but she was still cute, especially when she was flustered.

  “Nice to meet you, Richard.”

  I dropped her hand. “Nice to put a face to the women trying to kill me with sleep deprivation,” I said dryly. Delilah returned from the kitchen and smacked a bag of frozen peas down on my face. “Ow! Damn it, woman!”

  “Sorry,” she shrugged, not looking sorry at all before turning to her friend. “Dev, can I talk to you for a second… in the kitchen?”

  Devon stood from the couch. “Excuse me. We’re just going to go whisper about you where you can’t hear. Be right back.”

  I would have laughed had I not been worried I was in the apartment of two women who had somehow managed to escape their padded cells at the psych hospital. As I tried to ignore the whispers coming from the kitchen, I stared around the living room, noticing it had a warm, cozy feel to it. It was the exact same floor plan as mine, but where my place felt cold and unlived in, theirs was to complete opposite. The built-ins on either side of the brick fire place were crammed with books and picture frames. The walls were covered in art work. The furniture, while not new, was still in good shape and had obviously been bought for the soul purpose of comfort. For two people from the loony bin, they’d managed to make the apartment feel pretty inviting. Maybe that was how they captured their prey, lulling them into a false sense of comfort before they attacked.

  I was just starting to consider making a run for it when something from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked down into black, beady little eyes and let out a curse.

  “Fuck me!” I shouted, jumping from the couch and shaking the piss from my foot. As I glared down at the demon dog/rat, I could have sworn the little shit smiled, happy to have gotten me twice in one day.

  There was no doubt about it.

  I was officially having the day from hell.

  I WASN’T GOING TO think about his chest.

  I wasn’t going to think about his… sexy, muscular, well-tanned, naked chest.

  I wasn’t!

  “For the love of Buddha, Del,” I whispered to myself as I paced the length of the kitchen, “stop picturing him naked. Stop it!”

  “What have I told you about talking to yourself?” Devon said as she walked into the kitchen.

  I pointed at her accusingly. “I know what you’re doing.”

  Her eyebrows shot up as she innocently asked, “What did I do? All I’ve done is introduce myself to the guy!”

  “I know that look on your face. It’s your I’m-gonna-meddle-in-shit-that-isn’t-my-business face.

  She looked off to the side, unable to meet my eyes as she muttered, “I know not of what you speak.”

  “Liar!” I smacked her in the arm. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s the same face you got when you decided to tell Tyler Litner that I’d had a crush on him since the fifth grade. And you remember how well that worked out,” I finished sarcastically.

  “How the hell was I supposed to know he was gay?” she whisper-yelled. “I was just trying to help you out! You’d been pining after the guy for five freaking years!”

  I stared at her with wide, bewildered eyes, my mouth hanging open in shock. “You twisted his arm behind his back and refused to let go until he agreed to take me to the Homecoming dance! You basically forced the poor kid to come out of the closet in front of the entire lunch room. He was traumatized! He had to be homeschooled for the remainder of high school.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and shot me a killing glare. “And you’re welcome for that, by the way. Way I look at it, I saved you. What girl wants to tie herself to a guy who’s so weak a simple wrestling move has him almost pissing his pants in fear?”

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I reached up to push my glasses up the bridge of my nose before rubbing at the pain forming in my temples. “I feel like we’ve gotten way off topic here.”

  Devon’s head fell back on a groan. “Gah, why does that always happen with us?”

  “Because we’re crazy,” I responded drily, then suddenly remembered why I’d dragged her into the kitchen in the first place. “Oh! I remember now,” I snapped before shoving my index finger in her face. “You’re not going to tell Richard that he and I had a one-night stand three months ago.”

  “What? Why? Come on! Now that you know you’re not a harlot that slept with a soon-to-be-engaged man, you should totally get back on the horse… and ride it until you fall off in a sweaty mess,” she added with a lascivious grin.

  “No!” I barked as quietly as I could before slapping her arm again. “And that’s for calling me a harlot.”

  Devon stepped closer and lowered her voice even further. “I think you’re being ridiculous, Del. You said it yourself, that guy in there is a freaking sex God. And he just so happens to be your neighbor. How’s that for a coincidence? Shit like that doesn’t happen every day. I think you should jump at the chance of hooking up again. I mean… did you see his chest?”

  My best friend was a horrible influence. A terrible, slutty, hor
rible influence.

  “He doesn’t even remember me,” I hissed. “There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping with him again. Think about it, Dev. He obviously sleeps around so much we’ve all become nothing more than nameless, faceless vaginas to him. It’s Brant all over again, and I’m not doing it.”

  “You’re not giving the guy a chance. You know as well as I do that the way you looked that night compared to right now… it’s night and day, babe.”

  I gave my head a resolute shake. “Not happening. I’m a magnet for douchebags as it is, I’d be an idiot to go down that road. So just keep your mouth shut, okay?” When she didn’t respond, I pushed again. “Okaaay?”

  She huffed out a curse. “Fine. I won’t say anything. But let the record show I think you’re a dumbass.”

  “Duly noted. Now promise.”

  “I already said I wouldn’t tell!” She stomped her foot.

  “And I know you better than that. I want to hear you promise you’ll keep your mouth shut about it. Now say it.”

  “I promise,” she said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I won’t say anything about all the hot, acrobatic sex you guys had that one night. Cross my heart and hope to die. Happy now?”

  I smiled and patted her on the head. “Yep.” Then, before I could say another word, Richard bellowed a very angry “Fuck me!” from the living room, so we took off running.

  “Slim Shady, no! Bad dog! Bad, bad dog!”

  Shady, having finished emptying his bladder on Richard’s bare foot, simply sauntered back over to his doggy bed and laid back down.

  A choking sound from behind me drew my attention away from my menace of a dog. I turned to find Devon with her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to hide her laughter at what had just happened.

  I shot her a glare before turning back to Richard. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s totally housebroken.”