Two Hotties Next Door

“That’s supposed to mean something?”

Her lips were a shocking pink, and her outfit completely screamed that it didn’t go together. Her red hair stood out in contrast against her pale skin. She’d even painted her eyelids green. Even though it shouldn’t work, on this woman it totally did.

“I’m sorry for standing in front of your light and all that. I just wanted to introduce myself. It has been three months, and to make this work I figured we should get to know each other.” He withdrew his hand, thrusting them into his pockets.

He watched as she took a breath.

“I’m so sorry for … reacting like that. I was in the zone, or trying to be in the zone, and it was wrong of me. I’ve been trying to get the perfect light for this damn picture, but it’s just not working for me. I don’t think pristine neighborhoods are my thing, but I’m trying. I like to try new things.”

“You’re a photographer?”

“Artist.” She held up her sketchpad. “The name’s Meredith Snow.”

“A pretty name to match a pretty lady.”

****

Meredith hadn’t meant to snap at the man for simply introducing himself. In fact, she’d been hoping to meet the two neighbors for some time now, but it just didn’t seem to be happening. Between trying to work, attempting to work, and failing to work, she’d been completely consumed by what she couldn’t do.

That was the reason she’d moved into the small, quaint house at the end of what appeared to be a suburban road. Everything looked so perfect, and yet for her, her house seemed like the best place to cause a little chaos. For the past year she’d been unable to complete a single personal project, which was fine as none of the projects she’d started were for anyone, but she needed to get back into the swing of things, otherwise the world was going to remember Meredith Snow as a two-trick wonder. Yes, she knew it was only supposed to be one trick, but she’d had two amazing, sell-out shows, and now, well, she couldn’t even finish commission work. It had been so bad that she wouldn’t even talk to new clients yet. She wanted to get back to her old self. She missed that flair that always took her, and right now, she didn’t have it. She needed it.

Moving away from the city seemed like the right thing to do, especially as she hated it. The loud noises, the crime, the danger, she had lived in a bad part of city, and then when she made it big, the better part of city, but each one had its constraints. She hated both.

Pushing some hair off her face, she smiled at her neighbor.

“So, what is it that you do?”

“Brett and I, we’re personal trainers.”

“At the local gym?”

“Yeah, do you go there?”

“Not a chance. If I go anywhere it’ll be for a swim or to relax. Not to get all sweaty staring at whatever is in front of me.” She tilted her head to the side just as another man came outside.

Were they gay?

She didn’t mind at all.

Well, her lady parts would certainly mind come nighttime, but that would just make for a more interesting show in her fantasies.

“I take it you’re Brett.”

“The very one.”

Ace had dark hair while Brett had brown hair. While Brett had brown eyes, Ace had blue. They were both tall, muscular, and she could clearly see without knowing they were trainers that they worked out. Their muscles were huge, and that wasn’t an understatement. It was indeed a fact. They were ripped all over.

She introduced herself and hoped that she didn’t drool. These guys were over six feet tall, and while she was happy being five-foot-six, she actually felt small in comparison.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several women walking out carrying their trash, and she couldn’t help but smile. Even on the day they were moving in, this was something she recalled seeing. The women, married or not, were trying to garner the boys’ attention.

“So, how are you finding our little spot of heaven?” she asked, liking that they were talking to her.

She’d never been one to crumble under pressure. Being known as a weirdo in school, she’d embraced her quirks, and enhanced them. She had never allowed a bad word to get her down, and in fact, when someone would say mean things about her hair, the next day she’d put it in a more flamboyant style.

Fight fire with fire was what she believed.

Never had she gotten into a fight. She didn’t believe in violence, but she also didn’t believe in allowing people to walk all over her, so she would fight every single day if she had to, just in a different way. There was no way anyone was ever going to step on her; she wouldn’t allow it.