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              “Don’t be a douche,” I head for the door. “They could use our help.”

              “Since when have you become the Welcoming Committee?”

              I drag him to the window and point, “Since they look like that.”

              He takes a quick glance out the window and begins to put his shoes on, “Fine. Fuuuck.”

              I chuckle and make my way out the door but turn around right before we reach the girls. “Stay away from the redhead. Kay?”

              “Yeah. Whatever, man.”

              The redhead is deep in her trunk pulling at a box. I strut behind her and put my hand on the small of her back. She instantly tenses and jerks up hitting her head on the inside of the trunk. “Ah. Shit,” she screams.

              Damn. This was not going as planned. She spins around and she is out for blood. “What the hell are you doing?”

              I put my hands up surrendering immediately. I sway my hand back and forth waving my imaginary white flag. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Eric and I saw you struggling with your stuff and thought you might need some help.”

              Her eyes go from mine to Eric’s as she assesses the information. She immediately softens and offers her hand to me. “Gosh. I’m so sorry. You...umm...well...scared the pants off of me,” she smiles.

              Wow. There is really no way to describe that smile. She has a natural sad face. As soon as she smiles, her entire face changes, like a flower blooming. As I drink her in, I notice her hair is red with brown tones, which matches her taupe eye color and milky complexion. My eyes dip further down her body studying her curves. Damn, she has to be soft to touch.

              Her friend catches me gawking and I can tell she is growing impatient with the lack of help I promised. “Hey, did you come here to eye fuck my friend or did you come to help?”               My first instinct is to tell her to fuck off but she was right. I did come to help. So, I take the box from the redhead and motion for Eric to grab one too. As we walk to together up the pathway, I ask her name.

              She smiles at me. “Bree Jensen. What’s yours?”

              “Josh Maniglia. Bree? That’s short for Brianna?” I ask.

              “Um, no. Sabrina is my full name.”

              “Nice. So, let me ask you something, Bree. Is your friend always so bitchy?”

              She’s amused, “I would say 99.8% of the time...yes”

BREE

              I can’t believe Sofie went there. ‘Eye fucking?’ Where did she come up with this stuff? Besides, if anyone was eye fucking someone, it was probably me. My reaction took me by surprise. Josh’s piercing green eyes hypnotized me from across the street. His light brown shag cut hung low on his forehead covering a brow ring. He was tall and lean with just the right amount of muscle. When he lifted the box, I saw beautiful artwork peeking from under his t-shirt. The masterpiece began right above his waist and extended up his chest traveling down his arms displaying pictures of whom he was and who he is going to be.

              I couldn’t help zoning in on the job his tongue was doing with his lip ring when he spoke. It was truly mesmerizing.

              “It doesn’t hurt. If that’s what you’re thinking, ” he offers.

              I’m caught. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking at all,” I try to cover up. But, instead I stare. It looks so ungodly pleasurable.

              “This is Eric,” he smirks, letting me off the hook, and points to his friend who looks less than overjoyed to be helping us. Eric nods and continues lugging boxes in to my home.              

              “Hey,” Eric mutters and continues to follow Sofie’s every command. I don’t think she realizes the help is for free.

              She seems content bossing Eric around while I talk to Josh.  In between shuffling my belongings in to the house I tell Josh I moved here for work after commuting the last few weeks. He asks what I do and I explain I write entertainment pieces…mostly about new and upcoming bands for a local city paper. His eyes perk up when I reveal my occupation.

              “You might cover some of the shows my musicians play,” he beams.

              “Your musicians? What do you do?”

              “I compose music and write the lyrics for up and coming musicians. I manage a few bands too. Eric and I own a studio downtown. “

              I’m impressed. “So, do you play too?”

              “I play guitar and fool around on the Mic a bit,” his boyish grin is too much. “We play in our band every Saturday night at our yard parties. You should come. It will give you a chance to meet everyone who lives here.”

              I feel almost giddy when he asks me to come tomorrow night. Sofie is staying until Sunday so I feel okay accepting his invite, “That sounds like fun. No one gives you slack for the noise?”

              “Nah. That’s why we invite everyone who lives in our section. They can’t complain if they are getting toasted with us,” he drops the last box next to my couch and plops down. I’m a little disappointed I am only invited to keep from complaining.

              Eric chimes in. “Y’all should come. We play a few sets and get blasted in the comfort of our own home. Everyone walks home when they get their fill. It’s a good time.”

              Eric is just as adorable as Josh. He has the same hairstyle as Josh but his hair is a much lighter shade and almost blonde. His blue eyes sparkle when he speaks. Their physique is almost identical with the exception of the Eric’s lack of tattoos. He has considerably less artwork on his visible body.

              Sofie eyes me with caution. I don’t usually accept invites from strangers. But, there is something about Josh that I’m drawn to, “Wanna go, Sof?”

              “Sure. We’ll drop in,” she looks intrigued. At least she’s not scowling anymore. Her bitch face did nothing for her. We could be almost sisters if not for her bratty expressions. We share the same voluptuous physique and hairstyle. People were always commenting on how we look alike. Once they got close, they could definitely see the difference. Sofie’s eyes were hazel with blue flecks spread throughout and her cheekbones were higher.

              Josh and Eric stayed and ate with us before heading out. It was a relief to meet people where I live. It was an added plus they were hot.

              Sofie took notice of my jovial mood. “Tell me you’re not hard up for tattooed biker boy.”

              She took me off guard. Sofie and I have known each other forever. I never expected her to stereotype people. I snort in defense. “I didn’t see any bikes, Sof. Did you?”

              Focusing on emptying the contents of the box she is working on, she carefully answers. “No. I didn’t. All I’m saying is...guys like Josh and Eric...well...how do I say this nicely?” The truth is she never says anything nicely. But, I let her continue. “You play with guys like Josh and Eric. You don’t date them. Dating them in college was cute. Now that we are out, it’s a no-no.”

              I find Sofie’s theory of dating a guy with tattoos and piercings seriously outdated and asinine. And, it wasn’t because I find Josh attractive. “Where did you pull this theory from? Out of your ass?”

              I can tell my response is irritating her. She begins to empty the box with fury. “Bree, I have more experience with this stuff than you do. You have dated one guy the past two years. I don’t want to see you get hurt again,” she pretends to care.

              Frustration and exhaustion took over my body and my mouth. I had been through so much the past few years. My counselors would call me a survivor. The police department would call me a victim. I just want to be Bree. “Can we please not discuss my dating history? I’ve moved on.”

                            She can see the pain in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Bree. I am just looking out for you. It took me by surprise when I saw you with Josh. He’s the polar opposite of Nick. I assume you are avoiding the financial banker type because it reminds you of Nick? I don’t want you to choose someone for the wrong reasons. It’s like you are digressing. I remember you liking guys like Josh before you met Nick. I thought you were over that phase.” Josh and Nick are opposites but Sofie’s theory is absurd. Physical appearance has nothing to do with personal character. I wasn’t avoiding anyone or any type.

              “Thanks for your concern, Sof. But, I’m a big girl.  Besides, you are looking in to this way too much. He asked us to a yard party to be neighborly. That’s it.”

              I was hoping she would drop the conversation. My hope failed quickly. Her eyebrow arched up when she responded. “I just don’t get the attraction. You had Nick. He was polished. He dressed well. He took you to swanky business dinners and piano bars.” It sounds like she is glorifying my past.

              Despite my anger and my need to inform her of my personal hell with Nick, I couldn’t be angry with Sofie. To outsiders, my life with Nick was perfect. We met in college where we both excelled. The abuse began slowly during that time period. By the time we graduated, Nick had a financial planning position with a large firm and I wrote freelance pieces to supplement our income. He bought a house immediately and talked about getting married one day. Once I moved in to his home, the abuse occurred daily. But, to outsiders, our perfect life was just beginning.

              “You’re right. Nick is attractive and smart. When we were together, he took me to every posh place he could find. None of those places are worth going to when you are being told what to wear and how to act. And...if you forgot a rule or so much as walked crooked, you were really in for it. As far as I’m concerned, if I never see another piano bar or business dinner again, I will be ecstatic.”

              Something told me that Sofie still didn’t fully grasp my relationship with Nick. But, I didn’t need anyone’s approval for leaving him. I was free.

                                                                      JOSH

              I collapse on the couch and grab the remote in hopes of something watchable will be on the TV. My mind was racing with thoughts of Bree. A girl hasn’t gotten to me like this since the 3
grade. Marissa Struck tortured my soul throughout my entire school year. The third grade crush consumed me. I didn’t eat or sleep for weeks. I feel the same way today. This time, my obsession is Bree Jensen.

              Eric warms a slice a pizza in the microwave and asks me if I want any but I pass. He plops down on the cushion next to me and takes over the remote since my hands forgot how to work it. “What’s the matter with you? Still crushing on that chick next door?”

              My eyebrows rise in question. “What?”

              “You heard me. You hot for...fuck...what’s her name...Bryson...Braydon?”

              “Bree, asshole.”

              He smirks in victory. “I know her fucking name. Just seeing if you remembered it.”

              I punch him in the arm knowing he is trying to get me to talk. “What did you think of her?”

              “Cute. She reminds me of that chick from Wedding Crashers. What the fuck’s her name?” He snaps his fingers trying to recollect the name. “Isla Fisher. Except her eyes are different.”

              I try to make the connection. I guess in a certain light she may resemble her. Didn’t matter. I think she’s beautiful. “Yeah, she looks a bit like her. She’s cute as hell. Her friend, on the other hand, is a barracuda. I caught her scowling out of the corner of my eye. “

              Eric’s reaction is the same as mine, “Bitch had me running back and forth like she owned me. She is hot, too. But her fuckin’ mouth needs to go.”

              I chuckle, “She kept looking at me like I was a fucking disease. I hope she’s not hanging around too long.”

              Eric looks surprised, “Why’s that? You gonna try to get with Bree?”

              Honestly, it’s all I have been thinking about since I was stalking her from my window. But, one bad relationship will make you run from every possible connection in front of you. But, there is something about Bree. She’s worth coming out of the self induced drought I’ve been in.

              “Yeah. I might try. Might be strange with her living across the street from me, though.”

              Eric inhales a bite of his pizza and nods in agreement. “Be careful, dude. She could become a stage five clinger. You don’t need anymore Amy’s”

              I laugh. Nothing can be worse than Amy. I dated Amy, if that’s what you call it, a little over a year ago but she keeps coming around. Part of it is because she always needs cash. Addiction is expensive.

Amy and I had a short relationship. The relationship was more like a steady bootie call. She was a groupie at one of the band’s show I manage. She attended every show religiously. I would hang with her and have a drink every now and again. Eventually, she began coming to our yard parties and sticking around until the end of the night. It was just sex for me.

              The more she hung around me, the more she had access to people who could get her what she wanted. Then, all hell broke loose. She almost ruined my career by showing up at shows annihilated and making a scene. Eventually, I cut it off but she keeps coming around every once in awhile.

              “Fuck. I didn’t think about that until you said her name.”

              “You can’t keep thwarting off women because you’re afraid of the psycho. She only comes around to get money off of you to get a fix. I’d send her crack ass away if I were you,” Eric snorted.

              He had a point. Amy and I are over.  It’s time for me to move on. “You’re right. Do you think they’ll come tomorrow night?”

              Eric made an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know, man.  Her friend is a big time cock blocker.”