by Sky Corgan
“By who? Her?” Devlin looks at the house across the street.
“Mhm.” I nod before crouching to wipe down the front bumper.
“So?”
“Just thought it was worth mentioning is all.” I sigh.
“Every neighborhood has a nosy neighbor. I guess we found ours.” He shrugs it off.
“I suppose you're right. It's a pretty quiet neighborhood. You rarely see anyone outside.”
“Well, that's going to change now that we're here.”
I snort. “Oh yes, we will be the hated neighbors on the block, always out in the garage on our days off making noise.”
“They'll get used to it.” Devlin tosses his microfiber sponge into the soap bucket and picks up the hose to rinse the car off. “Are you done?”
“Yup.” I stand. “I think I'm going to head in and take a shower.”
“Thanks for the help.” He doesn't even look at me as he places his finger over the hose opening to make the water come out in a spray.
“No problem.” I toss my washcloth into the bucket before heading inside.
Just that short period of time spent in the sun has my body feeling overheated. I turn the shower on to cold and shiver as the water kisses my skin. The stickiness and heat melt away, making me feel instantly better.
Then all of a sudden, the water gets scalding hot.
I cringe and jump out of the shower, cursing Devlin. No doubt, he's in one of the other bathrooms laughing his ass off. Such a dick, that one. I'll get him back though. Maybe stick his hand in warm water while he's sleeping. I could spend an entire year pranking him and still not catch up to all of the hell he's put me through since we met in middle school. Being a practical joker is his thing, though, not mine. I've always been the serious one. Perhaps that's why we balance each other out so well. His weaknesses are my strengths, and my weaknesses are his strengths. He always jokes that together we make the ultimate person. Maybe he's right.
I finish my shower and towel off my short, blond hair before slipping on a pair of boxer briefs and heading into the living room. Devlin is sitting on the sofa grinning up at me like a loon.
“Did you have a nice shower?”
I glare at him. “You wait.”
“You always say that.” He gestures at me absentmindedly before refocusing his attention on the football game on TV.
I could not care less about football. Especially college football, which is what he's watching. Basketball is my sport. We have a rule, though, that whoever gets to the TV in the living room first gets to pick what we watch. We both have televisions in our bedrooms, so it's not like I couldn't just get up and go to my room. I feel too lazy to move right now, though.
Out of boredom, I grab my phone off of the coffee table and open a game. It's one of those match-three games, a guilty pleasure that I typically only indulge in when I'm waiting around somewhere.
“What are you doing?” Devlin leans over to look at my screen during the commercial break.
“I'm ignoring you. What does it look like I'm doing?” I furrow my brow and tilt the screen away from him.
“Pfft. Playing your little girly games? You should be using your time for more productive things.”
“Like?”
“Like finding us a date for tonight.” He smirks, putting on his player face. I can't help but laugh at him. He looks so damn cheesy.
“Finding us a date for tonight.” I nod. “Does that mean we're looking for hit it and quit it?”
“Naw, man. I thought we talked about this already.” His expression twists in offense.
“We did.” I exhale deeply as I close the game and pull up the dating app.
To be honest, after nearly six months of unsuccessfully trying to find a girl who wants to be in a relationship with both of us, I've just about given up. It's a lot easier to find someone who just wants to have a threesome. Sex is uncomplicated. But I know deep down that's not what either one of us needs. We need something with more substance. Something regular. Something real.
“I really don't think this is working. Maybe we should try something else.” I scan through the girls at a fast pace, not really putting much effort in. Devlin should be the one doing this. He's the one who still has some optimism left.
“Oh, don't look so excited. And don't be so picky.” He snatches the phone out of my hand when he realizes I'm not really looking, just going through the motions.
“I'm not being picky. I'm being a realist.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the sofa. “Finding a girl who wants to date two men is like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“We found Debra.” He doesn't even glance at me, and I cringe knowing that he's Liking every single semi-attractive girl he comes across, trawling the never ending sea of girls in the area, hoping to catch one that's willing to accept the strange arrangement that we want. It's proof that he's starting to wear down too. I can tell, even if he won't admit it.
“Debra.” My heart aches as her name rolls off of my tongue. I haven't said it in such a long time—haven't tasted the sweetness of it.
“The one that got away.” There's a hint of depression in Devlin's tone.
“Yeah. The one that got away.”
I can still remember the day she boarded a plane to go teach English in Japan. We had both loved her, and she had loved us. Because of that love, we let her go. Not like we could have stopped her.
I remember the weeks prior to her leaving spent talking to Devlin about whether or not we should follow her. With my career in the radiology field, I could have easily picked up and left. Devlin is in the army, though, and he couldn't just throw away twelve years of service to chase after her. He tried to get a transfer, but it didn't go through, and he thought it was cruel to make her wait for us for an undetermined amount of time. The selfish part of me thinks we should have asked her to wait—the part of me that was so in love. That seems like a lifetime ago now, even though it's been less than a year.
“I wonder what she's doing right now,” I say thoughtfully.
“Probably sandwiched between two Japs, not even thinking about us.” He quirks a halfhearted smile.
“That's not even funny.” I tilt my head towards him, not appreciating the joke.
The only guys I want to imagine Debra sandwiched between are Devlin and I. For as long as it's been, I can still remember the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. The taste of her lips. But it feels like those memories are fading with each passing day.
Devlin sets the phone down on his lap for a minute, looking at me seriously. “She's not coming back, Gareth.”
“I know.” I puff up my cheeks and blow out a painful breath.
“This.” He picks back up the phone and shows it to me. “This is our only chance of being happy like that again. We found Debra. We'll find someone else to love us. Even if you are boring as fuck.”
His expression cracks in amusement, but I don't smile back. My eyes are fixed on the screen. There's a very familiar face there. One I'm sure I've seen before.
“See, you just proved my point. Laugh once in a while.” He frowns, taking the phone back.
“Wait.” I pull it away from him before he has a chance to Like the image and move on.
“What?” He furrows his brow at me.
“This girl.” I show him the phone. “Doesn't she look familiar to you?”
He leans in and squints for a better look. Then he smiles from ear to ear. “Oh my God. Is that really? Do you think it is?”
“Mhm.” I can't help but grin. “It's Mrs. Peeping Tom herself.”
“Well, I guess that means she's not married. I rarely see other cars in her driveway, and I don't think I've ever seen a dude go inside that house, not that I've been watching.”
“Pfft. Creeper,” I snort at him.
“Hey, I'm a man of opportunity.” He quirks his head back.
“Well, this is certainly an opportunity.” I scan over her face. In the pic
ture, her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Her milky white skin is dotted with a smattering of light freckles. She has full, kissable lips and the most amazing large chocolate eyes. The white tank top she's wearing is tight and low-cut enough that there are several inches of cleavage peeking up out of the top. Yummy.
“Scan through the pictures.” Devlin leans over so that he can see the phone too, and I put it between us to scroll through the five available photos.
All of them are selfies, and there isn't an unattractive one in the bunch.
I had known she was pretty from seeing her from afar, but I had always assumed she had a boyfriend. Girls like her usually do. The ones with beautiful smiles, amazing curves, and ample breasts. Even if she doesn't have a boyfriend, though, I doubt she's after what we want.
I frown and tap the button to close the app.
Devlin's mouth drops open as he stares at me in disbelief. “What in the hell, man?”
“Dude, she's our neighbor.” I give him an incredulous look.
“So?”
“So it would be awkward if we Liked her.”
“What are you talking about? She obviously likes one of us. You caught her staring out the window at us.” He gestures towards next door.
“One of us. Not both of us,” I remind him.
“How do you know? Are you some mind reader?” He snatches the phone from me to pull the app back up, but it has already re-loaded and is displaying someone else's picture. He couldn't scowl deeper if he tried. “Look what you did.” He tosses the phone onto my lap.
“Yes, look what I did. I saved us from embarrassing ourselves.” I roll my eyes at him.
He stands, towering over me. “Get up and put on some pants.”
“Why?” I arch an eyebrow at him.
“Because we're going over there. Right now.” He places his hands on his hips as if to show me he means business.
“Are you out of your mind?” I rake my fingers through my hair, a small laugh escaping my lips.
“Hardly. If you think I'm spending Friday night sitting on this couch with you, you're out of your mind. Besides, we already know she's at home. We might as well take the opportunity while it's there.” His eyes shift to the front door.
“Were you even listening to what I just said.” My fingers curl around the couch cushion, lazily cementing me in place.
He rolls his wrist absentmindedly. “Neighbor. Awkward. Blah, blah, blah. Seriously, though, what's the worst that could happen?”
She could say no. Then what? It's not like we're close or even know each other at this point. She rarely comes out of her house except for when she's going somewhere. The times we see her are few and far between.
I sigh in disbelief that I'm actually starting to cave. This is a stupid idea, but one never knows what could happen if they don't try.
“So what's your big plan?” I deflate as if I still want to resist. The thought of talking to the foxy-looking brunette is starting to get my blood boiling, though.
“We play it by ear.” He sounds so carefree and confident that it takes some of my fear of rejection away.
“That's hardly a plan.”
“Come on.” He nods towards the door. “I've got this. You don't even have to say anything. Just follow my lead.”
I inhale deeply, my heart beating faster from all of the unknown possibilities. “Fine. Let me put some pants on.”
CHAPTER THREE
ROSE
Dishes. Lovely dishes.
It's amazing how they can pile up when you live alone. You'd think that with only yourself to look after, it would make keeping the kitchen clean a lot easier. The truth of the matter, though, is that when you rarely have house guests, it tends to make you lazier. At least, in my case it does.
I'm about ten minutes into scrubbing a week's worth of dishes, my mind going over all of the crappy dates I've been on in the recent past. I know that dating is a numbers game, but I'm really beginning to wonder if there is someone out there for me. I've gone out with at least a dozen guys since I got back into the dating scene. The majority of them were duds. The few that weren't never called me back. It makes me question if something is wrong with me, which is depressing.
I've always thought I was one of the better female fish in the sea. Sure, I'm not super model gorgeous, but I own my own home, my car is paid off, I have a great career and I'm not a gold digger. Maybe a lot of guys are intimidated by a girl who can take care of herself. I don't know anymore.
The doorbell rings, and I let out a deep sigh. With only two dishes left to wash, it's a bit irritating to be drawn away from the task.
For half a second, I think about not answering the door, but then I remember that I'm expecting a delivery. I ordered a projector last week to convert my living room into a home theater. While the package doesn't need to be signed for, the idea of leaving such an expensive item on my front porch for whoever walks by to steal isn't very appealing.
I dry my hands on a dishtowel before sauntering to the front door. I look like absolute crap in a pair of baggy sweatpants, a black tank top with bleach stains on it(it's my cleaning tank top) and my favorite blown-out bra. My hair is tied into a bun with about as much care as I took to get dressed. Even though the delivery man probably isn't cute, I really don't want him—or anyone, for that matter—seeing me like this. If I take my time getting to the door, he'll probably be gone when I open it. That's how those guys operate around here. Set your package on your doorstep, ring the doorbell and disappear into the sunset to make their next delivery.
I press my palms against the door and lean in to gaze out the peephole and make sure that the delivery man is gone before I open the door. It's not the delivery man though. And as my eyes focus on the two men standing on the other side of the door, my chest grows tight with a mix of excitement and stress.
“Holy shit,” I whisper before jumping away from the door and clamping my hand over my mouth.
In an instant, my nerves are shot.
Should I open the door? I can't looking like this. But there's no time to change.
I peek out the peephole again. My neighbors look like they're getting bored with waiting. If I don't go out there soon, they'll leave and I may not get another opportunity to talk to them.
Throwing sanity to the wind, I unbolt the door. This is not the way to make a good first impression, looking like a rag doll that's been thrown from the back of a truck and run over several times. What does it really matter, though? They're just my neighbors.
“Hello,” my voice comes out low and annoyed, and I cringe internally from the sound of it. Why did I say it like that?
My brunette neighbor opens his mouth to speak, but then he stops and gives me a panty melting grin. A shiver rocks me to my core, and my knees suddenly feel weak. Blondie is behind him looking stoic, but that's sexy too. My body temperature rises about ten degrees just from looking at them.
“I'm sorry. Did we catch you at a bad time? We can come back later.” Mr. Brunette points behind himself, half-turned as if he's ready to leave.
My self-confidence takes a nosedive. Do I look so horrible that they already want to run away?
I push a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “No. It's fine. I was just doing dishes. Um, what do you need?”
Blondie wrinkles his nose and scratches the back of his neck, seeming like he wants to leave as well. This could not be any more awkward if it were orchestrated.
“My friend and I just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves, since we're new to the neighborhood and all.” Mr. Brunette glances back at Blondie before returning his attention to me. “My name is Devlin and this is Gareth.” He extends his hand to me.
My gaze falls to Devlin's hand as if the gesture is foreign to me. Then my brain catches up and I move to shake it. “Hi. I'm Rose. Nice to meet you.”
“Rose. That's a pretty name.” Devlin flashes me another charming smile before stepping aside to let Gareth shake my hand.
> Just touching them makes my nipples bead. I glance down at my chest and my cheeks heat up like someone splashed coffee in my face. I want to run away and hide, but that would be too strange. Surely, this interaction won't last very long. I can get through it. I have to.
As if reading my mind, Gareth's eyes falls to my chest. They only linger there for a moment, but I still caught him looking—noticing my body's reaction. My face feels feverish from all of the blushing I'm doing.
“It's nice to meet you both,” I manage to choke out before withdrawing back into the house and crossing my arms over my chest.
“So.” Devlin clasps his hands together in front of him. “I'm just going to cut to the chase and say that we noticed your picture on this dating app we're using. That was you, wasn't it?”
My mouth drops open in disbelief that he's bringing that up. For a moment, I think about lying, but I am kind of curious to see where he's going with this.
I swallow the hard lump that has formed in the back of my throat before speaking. “Yeah, that's me. I'm...single.” It sounds more like a question than a statement.
“So are we.” Devlin gestures between him and Gareth. “What a coincidence.”
I eye them both suspiciously, deciding to be bold. “I saw you guys on the app too, but I couldn't figure out who the profile was for. You're both in all of the pictures.”
“Oh, it's for both of us,” he replies as if that's normal.
I shift my weight, my brow creasing as my confusion deepens. “You know, the app is free, so you could both have your own separate accounts.”
Devlin stares at me blankly for a moment. Then his expression cracks with amusement. “It's a joint account. For both of us. Since we're both looking.”
I close my eyes and shake my head. Wow, this guy is dense. Apparently, he has no idea how the online dating game works.
“We're into polyamory,” Gareth chimes in.
“Oh.” A light bulb goes off inside of my head as it all comes together. Then I have to refrain from looking shocked. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Devlin nods. “We like to share women.”