by Sam Crescent
From the moment they met each other in high school, they’d been inseparable.
“You’re still going on about that?” Brett asked. “You made quinoa three days ago. We’re still eating it from the fridge.”
“That’s because I made enough so we had lunch.”
“Yeah, well, I’m getting bored of eating it all the time.”
“I could fry you up some shrimp that you love in some spicy sauce if you’d like.”
“Nope, I’m good. Just sit on your ass while I attempt to make our home, ours.”
Ace glanced down at his magazine. It was getting to a good new exercise that he’d heard about. “Nah, you’re doing such a good job. You know, looking all sexy. I’m quite happy to sit here, do nothing. Relax. It was a long day at work.”
“Suit your lazy ass.”
“Oh, I will. I love it.” He wriggled in his chair and sighed. “This is the life.”
Brett just chuckled. “You ever thought about what that lady said who lived here before us?”
“Wynter.”
“What?”
“The girl that lived here before us. Her name was Wynter, why?”
“How do you remember all these names?”
“Because I’m awesome and it’s polite. How do you not?”
Brett shook his head. “Anyway, that’s not the reason I wanted to talk.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Shut up for, like, a second and I’ll tell you.”
Ace smirked. Brett was so easy to rile up. He also got a kick out of it as well.
“You remember what she said about the two houses.”
“About them helping couples fall in love? Yeah, what of it?”
“Have you noticed you think about Meredith a lot? Like, a whole lot.”
Ace paused. The words on the magazine faded away as he thought about Brett’s question. Yes, he thought about Meredith a lot.
Actually, it was more than that. From the moment he first saw her, his obsession had been in place. He wanted her, no doubt about that. That didn’t mean he loved her.
You wake up wondering about her.
You go to sleep thinking about her.
“I don’t think we’re in love with her.” He looked up at Brett to see his friend’s brow raised.
“You’re thinking about her all the time?”
“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean much. I think about watching cartoons.”
“Okay, when you think about her, is it just sex?”
Ace gritted his teeth. He’d passed a floral shop on the way home three times this week, and each time he’d seen some red roses that reminded him of Meredith’s hair and also her rose garden. He’d even stopped by her house to give them to her. She’d been so sweet, inviting him in, and he’d watched her plant them. Why buy a bunch of roses when you can buy a rose bush?
“What?” Brett asked.
“When I think about her it’s not always sexual. It’s crazy to think that the houses have any such control over our emotions. We’re guys. We’ve had a stressful year. Moving is pretty chaotic. We’ve not dated, and you know, we’re just, everything is fine,” Ace said.
“All right. Tell me how you feel right now about the thought of going out on a date with anyone other than Meredith?”
Ace squirmed in his chair. His stomach twisted, and he didn’t feel comfortable.
“It’s not possible, okay? This is crazy. We’re two guys here. There’s no way that can happen,” Ace said.
“We’ve shared women before and enjoyed it.”
Of course they’d shared women. They’d been in high school, and the head cheerleader had said how amazing it would be to have the chance to be the filling in their sandwich. Then they’d experimented in school. Played a few games along the way. Even experimented themselves.
Yes, they’d attempted to kiss, seeing as they could handle touching the one woman, but it had never been right to kiss each other. Brett was his best friend. He didn’t imagine being with him or anything.
“We’ve never spoken about it being long-term,” Brett said.
“Look, we don’t even know if Meredith would go for something like this, okay? For all we know, she doesn’t have a clue what this is about. We’re crazy right now.” Ace stood up, rubbed the back of his head. “I’m going to bed.”
He moved out of the living room and made his way upstairs to his room. He went straight to the window, and there Meredith was. She sat in the garden in the middle of her yard, bent over a sketchpad. There was a lamp near her to give her light. She wore a bikini, which displayed her ink to perfection. Her body moved this way and that, and he loved watching her.
Her curves were all on display, and she seemed not to have a care in the world as she worked away at whatever had taken her fancy. He didn’t love her.
He wanted her.
There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted her.
Love between houses.
The thought of sharing her with Brett didn’t sicken him.
It turned him on.
Could they do it? Was there a way for them to share this woman between the two of them without causing trouble?
Stepping back from the curtain, he laughed.
The entire idea was ridiculous. He had thought so when Wynter told him about the whole curse. Clearly, they needed a drink and a relax.
Love didn’t exist because of two houses.
It simply wasn’t possible.
Then why is it, I can’t get her out of my mind?
****
“Stop looking so panicked, okay? The world is not going to forget you anytime soon, but they will if you don’t start to focus,” Will said. “You’re supposed to be here to work. I’m doing as much as I can.”
She bit her thumbnail, which she hated doing as it was a habit she got into as a kid. “This isn’t about that, and you know it. I don’t care if they remember me. I’m nothing without my craft. You know that.”
“You’ve hit one or two snags.”
“It has been over a year since my last commissioned piece, Will. Not only that, I can’t seem to focus.” She glanced around her studio and felt completely lost. The walls were decorated with words, some hard, some soft. They were passions she felt.
Will picked up one of her sketchbooks, and she was so busy looking at her failure that she didn’t stop him.
“What about this?” he asked.
She glanced over and gasped. “That’s nothing.” Rushing toward him, she was about to take the sketchbook from him, but he wouldn’t release it.
In her spare time, she’d been sketching Brett and Ace. They were the only two people she seemed to be able to get right. Whether it was them mowing the lawn or carrying their stuff into the house, she’d committed everything to memory so that she could sketch it.
There was even one of Ace behind the kitchen counter, cooking away. He’d made a mean quinoa, and she’d been totally turned to the idea of actually giving it a try.
“This is all pretty good stuff.”
“They’re my neighbors, Will.”
“Then you know what you’ve got to do.”
She did, but she winced. “Look, a lot of people don’t like sitting in for this kind of stuff.”
“Meredith, the point of you getting away from the city and being here in the first place was to relax. You’re not relaxed. You look far more tense than I can recall ever seeing you.”
She fanned her face and walked away from him, taking a deep breath, and turning toward him. Breathing deep, she looked at him. “I’m trying. It’s kind of hard to relax when everyone keeps telling me to do exactly that.”
Will put his hands on her shoulders, and together they breathed deeply. “You’re awesome.”
Meredith rolled her eyes.
“No, say it with me.”
“You’re awesome,” she said.
“Meredith!”
“I’m awes
ome.”
“I’m talented.”
“Do I really need to keep saying this?”
“Do it,” Will said.
“I’m talented.”
“I can do this.”
“I can do this.”
“Just … relax.”
She copied everything he said, and at the end of it, she did, in a weird way, feel calmer.
“I’m not going to go anywhere. People still want your commission work and are willing to wait, even though they have not even given payment and you’ve not accepted any, or even taking any orders. I do get regular phone calls asking if you’re taking any contracts. They’re still talking about your paintings. You don’t have to be constantly present for people to think about you, not with the internet. I’m taking care of that. Now, relax.” He picked up the book. “I think you should talk to these two men. You’re inspired by them. They’ve got a lot more passion than the women you’ve watched putting out the trash.”
After another hour of chatting, catching up with the family, Will left, and she stood in her home … alone. She rubbed her arms, took a deep breath, and wondered what to do. Heading back to her studio, she picked up her sketchbook and looked at the few drawings she’d done.
She wouldn’t know if she didn’t ask, and even though Will was being considerate to her, she knew she had to get her stuff together. Time was running out, and she didn’t want to ruin her career.
Picking up a new sketchbook, she was determined to get this over with. If they were willing, she’d make sure it worked. If they were not, then she’d continue to work in secrecy. She could chop their heads out of the pictures so they didn’t know it was them.
Making her way next door, she lifted her hand to knock.
Like so many times before, Ace was the one to answer.
“Well, hello, my sweet little neighbor.”
“I can promise you, honey, there’s nothing sweet about me.” She placed a hand on her hip and pouted. They both laughed.
“Come in. I was just about to eat.”
“What?” she asked.
“Some quinoa.”
“Do you have enough for two?”
“I certainly do. My little roomie doesn’t like my food anymore.”
She laughed. “I’m sure he does. Where is Brett?”
“He’s still at work. He has clients that don’t always come in during the day. They prefer more private times.”
“Oh.” She didn’t like that jolt of pain at the thought of him being with anyone else.
“They’re special cases to him.”
“I guess so.” She pushed some hair off her face.
“What’s with the book?” he asked, pointing at her sketchpad.
“Well, actually, I wanted to ask you and Brett something.”
“I’m here. You can ask me.”
She nodded.
Why did she suddenly feel so nervous?
“So, I’ve been hitting a few snags lately when it comes to my work. Will, my manager, came by today, and he saw some of the sketches I’ve done of you and Brett.” She flicked open the page and pushed the book toward him across the counter.
He picked it up, and her hands got clammy.
What if he didn’t like her work?
Would he laugh?
Her art was a part of her soul. She didn’t like the thought of anyone laughing at her. For weeks before her first art exhibition, she’d had repeated nightmares of being laughed at.
“Wow, this is really good. I look hot cooking.”
She smiled. “I was wondering if you and Brett would mind being models for me. In your spare time, of course. I’m willing to throw in food, and I can pay if I turn the sketches into paintings.”
“I like this,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yeah. I can’t speak for Brett, but count me in. Food and money sounds pretty good to me. To be honest, I’m in it for the food.” He winked at her.
“Thank you.” She felt like he’d just given her a lifeline.
****
“I really do appreciate the both of you doing this,” Meredith said.
They were in her studio and she’d opened up a window. It was nice and cool as there was a through breeze. Her studio seemed to be the biggest room in the house. Brett glanced at the walls, seeing the many different kinds of art.
Fuck you.
Beautiful.
Beauty is only skin deep.
See into souls.
Home.
In between the words were drawings. There was a face with scars down it and a kindness in her eyes. The next was a woman so beautiful and yet within her eyes was evil. It amazed Brett how much he saw. The room seemed to represent Meredith. It wasn’t just one color but a variety. There was nothing that put her into a box. She was a free spirit throughout.
“What would you like us to do?” he asked.
“You could sit. Relax. I know. I hate it when someone tells me to relax, but if you could do it, I would appreciate it.”
He walked toward one of the chairs and sat down. Spreading out his thighs, he was curious about the room, about the woman.
In his world, everything had to be in order. He didn’t like clutter, but when he was around Meredith, her organized chaos enthralled him, as did she.
Her hair was bound up on her head today. No makeup, and she wore a simple yellow sundress. Her feet were bare, and the dress ended just above the knee so he got a glimpse of the thorns coming up her thighs. He loved her ink and had wanted to see it up close and personal for some time.
Ace sat down. “Do you want me to be serious?” He placed his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his hand and looking serious. “Or cool?” He leaned back in his chair. “Hey, good lookin’.” Suddenly he sat up. “Or completely still.” He held his chair and didn’t move a muscle.
Brett chuckled along with her.
“No, just be yourself. This is about expressing yourself in any way you see fit. I’m not going to control who you are.”
“Okay then.” He sat back in his chair, and Brett smiled. “Hey.”
He shook his head as Ace went for the coolness that he liked to portray.
Meredith grabbed a book from off her shelf and a small case. She opened it up, sat down on the floor, and looked up at them. She tilted her head to the side.
“You can smile,” she said.
“I will. You just go right ahead and do what you need to do.”
She nodded. Brett watched her, listening as Ace every now and again said something about her décor.
“Did you always want to be an artist?” he asked.
Meredith shook her head. “No, not at all. The first job I wanted to be was a nurse. I liked the idea of helping people. You know, of being there for them.”
“I get that.”
“Then of course I’d sob and panic whenever I saw the sight of blood on myself. Skinned knees and stuff. That went out of the window. Then came the whole hairdresser phase.”
“You wanted to be a hairdresser?”
“Yep. I’d cut off all the hair off my dolls. Drove my parents insane.”
“You don’t speak about your parents,” Ace said.
“They’re still alive. I go and visit them when the need arises. We have creative differences. They wanted me to enter the corporate world like my two brothers. One’s a lawyer, and the other is the head of a bank. I didn’t want to do that. We tolerate each other. I know they’re proud. They just think the art world is a fickle industry.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter though. Will has always been my support.”
“I can’t speak for Ace, but I can for myself. If you ever need us for anything, let us know. I’d love to help you,” Brett said.
She smiled at him. It wasn’t a fake one. She liked what he said. “Thank you.”
“I can speak for myself. You want anything. A perfect model, a gardener, cook, booty call, I’m your guy.”
They were all laughing. “You two a
re very sweet to me. Thank you.”
The rest of the afternoon went by slowly. Between conversation and Meredith sketching, everything felt relaxed. He loved watching her.
Throughout the day she went from sitting to sprawling on her stomach. The dress she wore moved up the backs of her thighs, tempting him with the rounded globes of her ass. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he couldn’t.
You want to.
He held himself back, staying in his chair, watching her, waiting. She looked so beautiful. Her hair came out of the clip that she’d bound it up in. Her tongue rested against her full, kissable lips. He imagined removing her dress, taking her to the floor, and tasting every single inch of her, spreading her thighs wide as Ace came up, kissing her mouth.
In his head, it felt right for Ace to be there. He’d sit back, watching her, desperate to see the pleasure on her face.
Ace’s stomach growled, drawing Brett out of his arousal. His cock was rock-hard.
“Food. I will go and order it now. Be right back,” Meredith said, getting to her feet. The way she stood up he got a glimpse down her dress, showing off the rounded globes of her tits.
His erection wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.
“You okay, man?” Ace asked.
“Nope. I’m not okay.”
Brett stood up and paced the room, trying to contain his composure.
“Wow, you really do want her.”
“Don’t,” he said.
“I’ve got the same problem, buddy.”
It was going to be a long evening.
Chapter Four
One week later
Brett was once again working the late shift, and Ace was inside Meredith’s house. She’d been in the shower when he arrived, and, seeing her slick and covered in only a towel, restraint was so fucking hard.
The past week, he’d spent many nights with his hand, getting really fucking acquainted. Constant thoughts of Meredith filled his mind. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and imagining her naked, between himself and Brett, well, it was keeping him in a constant state of arousal.
No other woman would do though.