The Daniels Boys *EDITING*

Chapter 3

Brad

Once inside, the little girl pulled me along to their kitchen.

"This is a really big kitchen," I stated the obvious. Why am I such an idiot? I could have said something more substantive. Marie blushed a little.

"Well, I like to cook a lot," she said.

I nodded looking around. It was a very spacious kitchen. There were exposed wood beams and an intricate light fixture hanging from the ceiling. Her stove set-up was exquisite. It was a big stove for such a small girl, it kind of made me hot thinking of her cooking in here.

"So, is it just the three of you living here?" The house seemed way too big for just the three of them. There had to be at least 5 bedrooms. It was a home meant for a big family, and I wasn't seeing how it matched up with just these three.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?" She pursed her lips before sipping from a freshly-poured glass of water.

"It's just a huge house." I shrugged. I guess I should work on keeping my nosiness to myself in the future.

"Oh yeah? Who all do you live with?" She set her glass down on the counter-top, her immaculately painted nails clicking against the top. "We live in the same area you know? All of the houses are big."

My throat constricted just a tad. Fuck, she was hot.

"It's just me and Jack." I wrung my hands; she made me a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous.

"I'm finished mom," thank God for the small child that saved me from being roasted by her mom. I watched closely as Marie walked over to her daughter, helping her hop down from the stool. The little girl ran off in a fit of giggles. She left me alone at the sheer mercy of her sexy mother. God, when did this escalate to sexy? I needed to mellow out. A few deep breaths should help do the trick.

No luck. I was still convinced that the purple-haired minx glowering at me was sexy as hell. "Where were we, ah...yes. You were about to tell me you were a huge moron."

"Ouch," I put my hands up in surrender. "I've been called worse, but that really hurt coming from your pretty little mouth." Her jaw dropped. Mine did too. Did I really just say that?

"Brad, I'm not the biggest fan of you right now. I'm not sure if that's something that will wear off the less you open your 'pretty little mouth,' or if I will always find you this asinine."

Asinine. I was condensed into a three syllable word representing foolishness and stupidity. How did I get here so quickly?

"Do you mind if I sit?" I gestured toward the living area in the room over. She hesitantly nodded, then walked over to sit on the edge of a leather chaise lounge. I sat across from her on a textured love-seat. "I should be honest with you."

She waved her hand, giving me the go-ahead to continue. "I welcome you, to be honest with me." She had a great skill of sounding so condescending when she spoke to me.

"You make me nervous." I coughed and looked over her head to stare at an abstract black and white painting. Now that she was sitting, the shorts she was wearing earlier had risen up on her thighs. Her slender legs looked so good crossed over the other. 

"How?" her voice was incredulous at best. Her eyebrows were nearly touching her hairline. "We just met." She must know how attractive she is. She couldn't have put that hoodie on with those jean shorts not thinking that she looked good. 

I sighed, resting my elbows on my knees. "You're strikingly beautiful. I spend so much time working, I barely socialize with anyone. Let alone a woman as attractive as you."

"I'm flattered, but I'm just your neighbor. You should try to be less of an oaf." She raised the glass to her parted lips. It was like watching a video in slow motion. The drop of water left on her lip was ushered away by her pink tongue darting across her bottom lip.

"Noted." I shifted awkwardly on the couch.

She watched me quizzically. I'm sure she was regretting opening the gate twenty minutes ago. "You work?"

I gave a curt nod. "I do." My hands were folded neatly in my lap as I awaited her reply.

"Are you going to tell me what you do, or would you like me to guess?"

"I'm a business owner."

"Is it one of those pyramid schemes where you sell a lot of tea on the internet?" I guess that was her attempt at making a joke. I would only give her the satisfaction of a minuscule quirk of a smile.

"Nothing like that. It's a sports agency specializing in skateboarding and some other things." I folded my arms, leaning into the comfort of the couch. ''I've got 500 or so employees."

She found that interesting, asking me to tell her more about it. I explained how I started it during my senior year of college. I had come up with the idea one night after spending a day at the skatepark. I was a business major, so it was the perfect thing for me to get into. I must have piqued her interest when I mentioned how I had the money to start it because her head tilted and she leaned forward before asking a simple question.

"How'd you get money for it?"

"My grandparents." That was enough to share for now. I didn't feel compelled to share my exhausting family story with her. She was just my neighbor. Not only did I not feel like bearing my trauma to her, but I'm sure she wouldn't want to know. Most people didn't want to come to terms with their own shit let alone listen to someone else's.

Showing disinterest, she leaned away. "You're one of those."

"Come again?" Now I was interested in what she had to say. What did she think of me? I barely shared anything with her.

"Trust fund kid."

"And what the hell does that make you?" She set her glass down again to neatly fold her hand on her knee. I had seen enough HBO shows to know that it was woman's sign of future aggression. I better buckle-up. "You can't be older than 20...21 and you live in this massive house by yourself with two expensive cars in your driveway. Please, enlighten me to how you can afford this shit."

"My lifestyle is sponsored by my dead parents thank you very much."