Next Door

But the answer was easy: Because she’s my sister. She’s been alone and hurting these last few years and as lame as it sounds, she needs me.

A quick flash of the two of them sitting on those apartment stairs tore through her head like a desert wind.

“You knew I’d reach out to her eventually,” Chloe said. “I can’t very well be living in the same city and continue to shut her out of my life.”

Steven nodded and came to her. “I know, I know,” he said. “But a man can dream.”

She knew there was a bit of barbed truth to the comment but she also recognized the joking tone. He was giving in, not wanting to let a discussion about her sister ruin moving day for them.

“It could be good for her,” Chloe said. “Getting out and socializing…I think I can bring it out of her if I can become something of a regular fixture in her life.”

Steven knew the complex history between the two of them. And although he made no secrets about not being particularly fond of Danielle, he had always lovingly supported Chloe and understood her concern for her sister.

“Do what you think is best for her, then,” he said. “And after you call her, come help me put the bed together in the master bedroom. I’ve got plans for it later.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah. All this moving has wiped me out. I’m exhausted, I’m going to sleep so hard…and it’s going to be so hot.”

They both cracked up and found their way into each other’s arms. They shared a lingering kiss that suggested maybe their first night in their new home would put the bed to good use. But for now, there were the mounds and mounds of boxes to unpack.

Plus, a potentially uncomfortable phone call to make to her sister.

It was a thought that filled her with equal amounts of joy and anxiousness.

Even as her twin sister, Chloe was never sure what to expect from Danielle. And something about being back in Pinecrest made her sadly certain that things with Danielle had likely only gotten worse.

Chapter Two

Danielle Fine popped a No-Doz, swallowed it down with a warm, flat Coke, then opened up her underwear drawer and dug down on the right side for the sluttiest thing she could find.

Danielle thought about Martin. They had been dating for about six weeks now. And while they had both decided that they were going to take it slow, Danielle had lost her patience. She had decided she was going to throw herself at him tonight; stopping at second base every time they saw one another was making her feel like a stupid teenager who didn’t know what she was doing.

She knew what she was doing. And she was pretty sure Martin did, too. By the end of the night, she’d know for sure.

She ended up selecting a lacy black pair that barely covered the front and was practically nonexistent in the back. She thought about which bra to wear but decided on not wearing one at all. She and Martin weren’t exactly dress-up types and besides, she knew she was very much lacking in the chest; there was no expensive bra in the world that was going to be of much help. Besides…Martin had told her he liked how her boobs looked when their shapes were visible through a T-shirt.

They were meeting early, catching an early dinner so they could make the 6:30 movie in time. The mere fact that they were doing dinner and a movie rather than cheap drinks and a trip back to his house for a painful make-out session was a point in her favor. She wondered if Martin was the kind who liked to feel that he was being a gentleman.

Six weeks with the guy…you should already know that kind of shit, she thought as she slid on the panties.

She got dressed in front of the full-length mirror on her bedroom wall. She tried on a few shirts before deciding to play it chill. She settled for a black, slightly tight T-shirt and a very basic pair of jeans. She was not the sort of girl who owned a bunch of dresses or skirts. She normally put on the first thing she grabbed in the morning. She knew she’d been blessed with her mother’s good looks and, because she also managed to have immaculate skin, she usually went without much makeup, too. Her dyed black hair and intense brown eyes pulled the entire package together; in the blink of an eye she could make the transformation from innocent and sweet to aggressively sexy. It was one of the reasons she had never really cared about her small boobs.

With a quick look into the mirror, seeing the same figure, face, and T-shirt band logo that had all been there as a teen, Danielle was ready to head out to meet Martin. He was a greaseball of sorts, only not the kind that hung out in motor garages or racetracks. He’d toyed with amateur boxing at one point, or so he said. He had the body to make her believe it (another reason she was losing her patience) and currently worked as a freelance IT specialist. But, like her, he didn’t take life too seriously and enjoyed drinking a lot. So far, they seemed like a perfect match.

But still. Six weeks without sex. She felt a lot of pressure. What if he refused? What if he really wanted to keep taking it slow and she just couldn’t wait?

Sighing, she went to the fridge. To calm her nerves, she grabbed a Guinness from the fridge, popped the top, and took a swig. She realized she was putting alcohol on top of her No-Doz but shrugged it off. She’d certainly put her body through much worse.

Her phone rang. If he’s calling to cancel on me, I’ll kill him, she thought.

When she saw that it wasn’t his name on the display, she relaxed. Yet when she saw it was her sister, she slumped her shoulders. She knew she might as well answer it. If she didn’t Chloe would call her back fifteen minutes from now. Persistence was one of the few traits they had in common.

She answered the call, skipping hellos as she usually did. “Welcome back to Pinecrest,” she said, as monotone as possible. “You officially a resident again?”

“Depends on if you’re asking me or all of these unpacked boxes,” Chloe replied.

“When did you get in?” Danielle asked.

“This morning. We finally got everything out of the U-Haul and are trying to get through the boxes and figure out where everything needs to go.”

“Do you need some help?” Danielle asked.

The brief silence on the other end of the line suggested that Chloe had not been expecting this sort of generosity. Truth be told, Danielle had only asked because she knew Chloe would not take her up on it. Or, rather, Steven would not want Chloe to take her up on it.

“You know, I think we’re good right now. I wish I would have thought to call you when we were unpacking all of the damned boxes.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have offered then,” Danielle said with dry sarcasm.

“Anyway, listen. Do you remember Kathleen Saunders from high school?”

“Vaguely,” Danielle said, the name bringing to mind a bright and smiling teenaged face—the kind of face that always got a little too close when speaking.

“Turns out she lives in my neighborhood. Just two houses down. She came by a while ago and said hello. She also invited Steven and I to a block party this weekend.”

“Wow, one day in and you already sound domesticated as hell. You buy a minivan yet?”

There was another brief silence; Danielle figured Chloe was trying to decide if the comment was a venomous barb or just a joke. “Not yet,” she finally answered. “Need the babies first. But about that block party…I think you should come. Kathleen was asking about you.”

“I’m flattered,” Danielle said, not flattered at all.

“Look, we’re going to end up hanging out anyway,” Chloe said. “We may as well do it sooner rather than later to avoid all the phone tag. And I’d really like for you to see the house.”

“I might have a date that day,” Danielle said.

“Like a real date or just one of your poor one-night guys?”

“A real date. You’d like him, I think.” That was bullshit. She was pretty sure Chloe wouldn’t approve of Martin at all.

“You know how we can find out? Bring him, too.”

“Ah Jesus, you’re insufferable.”

“Is that a yes?” Chloe asked.

“That’s a we’ll see.”

“I’ll take it. How are you, Danielle? Everything going good?”