The six guys plus Theo share a quick laugh.
“You know what. Will you all excuse me for a quick minute. I’ll just—I’ll be right back.”
“Well, wait,” another one of the guys calls over as I’m taking steps away from the volleyball net. “I’m Chad,” he shouts, waving with a still hand in the air.
H-O-L-Y what is going on?
I struggle to make my way out of the sand with my flip-flops getting stuck beneath the powdery weight, but I use every muscle I have to push myself ahead faster. None of the men are moving from where we’re standing, yet I feel like there’s a mass of hot male zombies in my footsteps.
I close myself into the house, locking the deadbolt, and then I run to the back-slider and hit the lock.
Pouncing up the stairs, I holler for Kricket and Krow. “Um, hi, girls? Could I have a word with you?” I call out from the hall, hoping one of them will answer me.
Of course, neither respond.
After a hearty knock on the first bedroom door, I don’t get a response. Then I move to the second door, but I stop before knocking because I hear their chatter.
“Did you see her face?” It’s all I can make out between the laughter.
I open the door without knocking, finding them laying on the bed, texting away on their phones. They startle when I make my abrupt appearance, though.
“Whose face?” I cross my arms and purse my lips.
“Look, this wasn’t our idea, okay?”
“What wasn’t your idea?”
The twins share a look before laughing again. The urge to walk out and slam the door is fierce, but I resist. “So, what, you think I’m some dumbass bimbo whose brother tricked her into some setup here?”
One of the girls, with her twinning coy smile, shrugs her shoulders. “I mean ...”
“I assumed you two were flat-out rude from our initial encounter, but I always try to give everyone a second chance to prove me wrong.”
“Whoa, who are you calling rude?” I really wish I could tell them apart.
“You don’t know me whatsoever, yet, you have no problem talking about me. At least you two have each other.”
That was it. I have no intention of trying any harder here. I step back out into the hallway and close the bedroom door.
The doorbell rings again. My only question now is how many of these men are living here, and why are they living here for that matter?
I jog back down the stairs, glance out the side window, and find another tall and attractive man waiting. Reluctantly, I open the door.
This one is holding a rose. “Hi, I’m Leland. I live just over there. I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
I take the rose, giving it a quick whiff. “Wow, this is—thank you, the rose is beautiful.” Leland looks so sweet and unknowing of whatever it is the rest seem to know about me. Looks can be deceiving, though.
“Are you okay? You seem a bit frazzled, Leland says asks. His short dirty-blonde hair blows against an incoming breeze, filling my space with a spicy scent of shampoo and the fresh aroma of detergent. He’s dressed like he’s heading to an office for an important meeting, but it’s later in the afternoon, so I doubt that is the case.
“Yeah, I’m—ah—” I point behind me. “I’m just trying to get my bearings on the new place. Jet lag,” I try to use the excuse again.
“Jet lag is the absolute worst,” Leland counters. “Can I do anything for you?”
“No, you’re sweet to offer, though. I think I need to lay down for a quick minute.” Leland reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a business card, handing it to me.
I read the card:
Leland Patrick
