One Drop of Golden Sun

Ch. 3 Blond, Beautiful and Not Happening

*Lokela

"You live with how many guys, are you kidding me?" a woman's barely hushed voice cut through Lokela's closed door. "How am I supposed to explain this to Mom? How is this remotely what we talked about when we agreed you should get a room in an apartment this year? And how on Earth am I—" Frightened scream. "What the hell is that? Was he one of your new apartment mates?"

He squinted at his door. It was too early for this crap. Any screaming before ten o'clock on a weekend was strictly against house regulations, he was damn sure, and stomping and complaining were right up there with screaming. This was exactly why he had moved into a house with all guys.

Or was why he had tried. He caught Felipe scrubbing the fridge out at midnight last night, elbows deep in pungent bleach and several black trash bags filled up and waiting to be taken outside.

"What gives with the chick?" he asked. "You told me you only wanted guys living here."

"Yeah, I know. I thought she was a dude. Her name is Ray and she sent an email."

"So you should have told her to leave when she showed up."

"Technically, that's sexual discrimination. I was 99% sure the room would scare her off and if that didn't, then seeing the fridge would. I even chewed my nails and acted disgusting while she was here, but it didn't work. Don't worry though. The second she meets sees us eating dinner she'll be out of here faster than a torpedo."

Sounded legit. At the time, he hadn't argued. Lokela didn't know if this girl had thought about what it meant to live with only guy roommates, yet, but she was here with reinforcements to move her stuff in.

"No," Ray said, answering the woman. "That's Vinny the Cockroach! He lives with me. I'm going to teach him flea circus tricks and train him to eat mosquitos."

A man laughed, but the woman didn't.

"Let me get my tools and we'll measure the walls. The furniture I'm bringing in from the other apartments should fit fine, but I want to be sure," the man said and the house rumbled as he went down the stairs like an elephant.

Didn't anyone ever tell that dude how to be light on his toes?

"Ray, this is too much. I can't let you stay here. Look at the mattress. Look at the window. Look at the filth in this closet. No."

"Please, Beth, don't be like that. I never told you you couldn't marry that dipshit Brian even though it was painfully obvious what a loser he was. Let me make my own mistakes."

And now she was criticizing the guy helping her move in. Nice attitude. He groaned and rolled out of bed, there wouldn't be any more sleep that morning. On his way out, he grabbed his towel off the hook behind his door.

In the hallway stood a blond bombshell with her lips contorted in disgust and her gaze fixed in the room opposite his. She saw him and squeaked. Then the college age bombshell who had tried to talk to him last night popped out the room, face red with effort of carrying the bags on the floor. Glistening beads of sweat sparkled on her chest.

This was why he had wanted a room in a house of only guys.

He grunted, refusing to be cordial and pushed past the ladies. They stared—not exactly at him, but at his chest and boxers and he was suddenly hyper aware of the thin layer of cloth separating his Johnny-boy from their sight.

Thank God for small favors, he didn't have any morning stiffness anymore.

"Hey, what's up?" Ray asked.