Just then I realize he’s talking, snapping me back to reality with a huff as I step backward.
“What was that?”
“I said you must be our new neighbor girl.”
Our?
“Oh, uh, yeah. I just moved in across the hall. Your party is keeping me up. It’s really loud.” I tap my ear, demonstrating my point. Smooth. Real smooth.
Instead of an apology, blondie opens the door wider beckoning me inside. Did he even hear me? At that exact moment a new song comes out of the expensive looking sound system in the corner, blaring loud and clear, right into my very awake and soon to be pissed off ears. No one, including my ridiculously tall neighbor, so much as offers to lower the volume, making me question my decision to barge over here at all.
“I’m Beckett,” he says, then splashes random types of alcohol into a tall glass before eyeballing the mixture suspiciously. “I live here with my roommates.” With a thumb over his shoulder, he gestures to a guy on the balcony with a girl tapping on his chest to get his attention. It’s futile though because the only thing he sees is the fresh meat dangling in his doorway. Instinctively, I take another step back, taking me further into the hall. This move does nothing to break the intense staring contest though, so I browse my neighbor while he sizes me up. “That’s Marc.” Where Beckett is light and bubbly, Marc is dark and severe. Dark hair cut close to the scalp, dark eyes that penetrate anything, or anyone, they land on, dark skin hinting at a Hispanic heritage. Flame tattoos licking up his forearms match the lit cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth. The guy is fire and ice personified. Hot, just like his roommate, but in a completely different way. The way dry ice entices you to touch it even though you know damn well it’s dangerous. “And that one over there is Coty.” Beckett finally looks up from his shoddy cocktail, meeting my eye as he turns to point out his other roommate.
Unsure who he’s talking about, I glance around the crowded dining table—a table that couldn’t even fit in my apartment—until a chill starting at the base of my spine spreads the rest of the way up my backbone ending at my hairline when my gaze collides with his. Coty. Or that’s who I’m guessing is Coty since the guy makes no move to introduce himself other than pinning me to the spot with his mocha swirl eyes alone. Yes, mocha fucking swirl. The swirl is important. Not to be confused with just regular mocha eyes, Coty’s are a deep chocolate color with a distinct swirl of mocha right through the middle making me crave a coffee creation containing both immensely, even though I’m pretty sure mocha already has chocolate in it. The longer his gaze stays on mine, the more everyone else fades away, including his talkative friend. Movement steals my attention as I watch his lips tilt into a devilish smirk. Even though I’m not very religious, I send up a forgive me Father for I’m about to sin so I’m covered. You know, just in case.
With unkempt brown hair and a wicked curve of his mouth, this guy is the perfect mixture of his counterparts. He runs his gaze the length of my body, leaving behind that same pesky chill I’ve felt twice in his presence now, so I return the favor. Immediately tucking my cardigan tighter, my eyes take the long route roaming along my new neighbor, exploring every visible inch. He’s tall, not as tall as his boy, he’s dark, not as dark as his other boy, but damn if he’s not just as wildly attractive as both. Relaxed jeans hanging low on his hips, a shoulder thrown over the back of a chair next to him, making his shirt stretch tight against his well-built chest, I can honestly say I’ve never wanted to be a garment more in my life than I do admiring Coty’s gray V-neck. Who did I move in next to? A pack of male models?
Beckett still talking next to me, raucous laughter around the table, hell, a nuclear bomb just outside couldn’t break the intense stare down Coty and I are having, but the word boyfriend tossed through the air goes off like a grenade silencing what feels like the entire complex.
I tilt my head to Beckett, eyes narrowed.
He lets out a small chuckle. “We should celebrate. Do you need to get your boyfriend? Or girlfriend maybe?” His wriggling eyebrows jostle his already slanted hat making me smile even as I’m reminded of Drew’s words. ‘You’re a young, pretty girl living all by herself. People might notice and try to take advantage of that.’
The question, although presented as innocent, feels more like a probe. A probe for information I’m not ready to reveal. Not now. Maybe not ever. Before I can answer, the music drops in volume dramatically causing the party to erupt in protests. Coty stands at the system with his finger pressed to a button and his eyes locked on mine.
A glimpse around the room proves all three painfully beautiful roommates are watching, listening, for my answer. I shake my head, looking back to Beckett. “I need to be up early for work. I’d appreciate it if you could keep it down.”
“It’s Friday. When the fuck are we supposed to party?”
Coty glances over to Marc but Marc doesn’t notice. His sharp gaze follows my throat as I try to swallow inconspicuously. Try and fail, as I half choke on the worthless saliva.
Somehow during the stare off with Coty, I managed to step further into the apartment, bringing me into the heart of the lion’s den. If I show fear for even a second these animals could pounce, but I’ve got plenty of practice battling a beast.
Steeling my spine, I cock an eyebrow at Marc mockingly. “Party whenever you want. I’m just asking you to turn the music down.” I nod my head outside. “Maybe keep the dogs on a tighter leash instead of out on the stairs where your neighbors can hear their sloppy ass mating calls all night.”
I ignore Coty’s narrowed eyes as they shoot back my way. It’s not like I’m asking for much. I need this job and the opportunity it’s provided me so far—a chance to escape the mental prison of living under my mother’s roof. I’m not risking that over a stupid party. If they can’t shut up, I’ll shut them out, but I have to try. This isn’t some paranormal romance novel where buff guys howling at the moon is hot, this is real life and that shit’s plain annoying.
I meet all three sets of eyes. Marc scoffs, going back to his entertainment still vying for his affection. Beckett’s grinning as if this is his entertainment for the night. And Coty…Coty hasn’t so much as blinked, watching me like the predator he must think he is. As much as I’ve been led to believe, I’m no prey, so I spin on my heel to leave then come to a stop when a dripping hand is thrust in my path.
“What’d you say your name was again?”
Beckett’s glossy gaze is about as syrupy sweet as his drink concoction. For someone as big as Beckett, he sure is a slippery little sucker. One I’ll have to keep my eye on. Hell, maybe both eyes.
Coty still hasn’t restored the music to full volume as he takes in the scene from across the room. Next to a big brown leather couch, he rests against the edge like he’s got nowhere better to be. Nothing else to do besides wait for something as insignificant as my name. When he winks, it takes everything in my power to keep my feet from moving forward. From going straight to him. That little tug at my restraint shows me exactly how I got inside in the first place. I may not be an easy target, but Coty’s showing part of his arsenal whether he knows it or not. I can only hope that stupid wink is the only flex he’s got. But I have one of my own, so dropping my eyes down his casual stance, I bring them back up making sure to meet his gaze before smirking and looking away altogether. The clench of his fists doesn’t go unnoticed. By anyone.