Can't Fix Cupid

Bea’s brows nearly hit her hairline. “Not what I meant, but okay,” she says before gesturing around the house. “Let me give you the tour of our hut.”

I finally take the time to look around, and I’m immediately dazzled. What this place lacks in square footage, it makes up in originality. I run my gaze over the smooth wooden walls. Unlike the outside, the interior wood is all painted white, and everything is open, allowing the floor plan to use up every single inch of space.

There’s a small sitting area right behind me, an eat-in kitchen ahead with funky chrome and black appliances that are about a third of the usual size, and a ladder leading up to a loft above. The floors and counters are all black too, setting off the walls nicely, but then there are pops of color around to draw the eye. Cherry red mini-chandelier, teal pillows, a yellow rug, purple built-in loveseat, and pop art hanging on the walls. Even the ceiling has color, with stained glass for a skylight.

“Wow. The whole hut thing seems like an unfair name,” I comment.

“Believe me, some of these places are huts,” she tells me. “But we built this one ourselves. That’s what we do. We build and design tiny homes.”

“Wow, that’s pretty rad. You kick ass at this,” I tell her honestly.

Bea grins. “We’re gonna get along just fine, Trix Valentine.”

She looks over her shoulder at the loft, raises her finger and thumb to her mouth, and then lets out an ear-splitting whistle.

“Hey, Blue! Get your ass down here! We’ve got a new roomie!” she shouts.

The rock music shuts off, and a head pops over the railing of the loft. “What?”

“I said get your bony ass down here!”

I hear mumbling, and then the woman starts climbing down the rungs of the ladder and striding over to me, completely naked except for a pair of goggles hanging around her neck. She looks at me curiously. “Hey, I’m Blue.”

“Trix,” I tell her, offering my hand to shake.

“Nice tattoo,” she comments, looking at my wrist as she shakes my hand. “I’m always supportive of those who want to celebrate their sexual prowess.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“You finish soldering that piece?” Bea asks her.

“Don’t be so impatient. It takes finesse,” Blue answers, scratching at her dark nipple.

With both of them standing side-by-side, I study their mirrored features. The same smooth dark skin, full lips, and kind brown eyes. Their figures are curvy, but while Bea is semi-clothed in her smock, Blue is on full display. Their dreadlocks are even the same. They have this twin thing down pat.

“What were you soldering?” I ask curiously.

“I’m making this metal and glass piece for a tiny home we’re working on. It’ll be inlaid into a door. It’s going to be life-changing.”

Bea rolls her eyes. “She says that about every piece she builds.”

“You bet your ass I do. And they are all life-changing,” Blue says matter-of-factly.

Bea looks at me. “Mm-hmm, see?”

“Not that I know anything about soldering, but isn’t that dangerous to do when you’re naked?” I ask.

Blue shrugs. “I’ve been soldering in my skivvies since I was ten years old using my daddy’s iron.”

Bea pokes her waist where there’s a very visible burn mark. “Yeah, and you’ve been getting your ass burned for that long too.”

Blue sniffs. “Don’t bore the girl with unimportant details.”

I laugh lightly at their banter and then look around again. “So, as nice as this place is, I don’t think you really have enough room for a third person in here...”

Blue snorts. “This your first time in a tiny home?”

“Yeah.”