Page 2 of Messing With My Brother's Best Friends

The high, hysterical sound of Barbie’s voice was a perfect expression of the sharp whine inside my head. I’d seen things like this on social media, read reports of the depths people were prepared to go to try and make an extra buck, but…

“$350 for this…” I squeaked out.

The woman’s welcoming expression changed in an instant, her eyes hardening, her lips thinning down.

“Well, in today’s market—”

“It pays not to be a total dick,” Barbie snapped. Her acrylic nails clacked as she wrapped them around my arm and then used her grip to start hauling me out of the shed.

“We’ve had plenty of interest!” Janice said as I was quickly walked out of the garden and down the driveway which was apparently the only means in and out of the property. Servants used to use their own doors in grand houses, but I would get what? A muddy, gravel lined path to the shed?

“Better rent it to one of them!” Barbie shot back, not taking a full breath until she’d had me on the other side of the gate, the latch clattering with the force she used to yank it closed. “We’re going. You’re staying with Alan and me—”

“No.” I shook my head, thankfully dispelling the high pitched sound that seemed to fill my skull. “I’ll find somewhere.” She shot me an empathetic look. “I will. I’m looking right now.”

I picked up my phone and jumped on the website where most people listed rooms to rent, my heart rate picking up as I scrolled. If I could just get in first, be the first person to turn up to an inspection of a place in my price range, then I’d find a place, I would. My thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling, scrolling until I found this.

“Oh my god…” I hissed.

“What?” Barbie thrust her face forward, forcing me to yank the device away. “What? For fuck’s sake, girl, stop with the foreplay and…” She let out a sigh when she saw the listing, and I did the same. It was a nice place in the suburbs. A little further out than I wanted to go, but I’d suffer the commute to live here. The neat garden, the white picket fence, the goddamn pool that shone turquoise blue. “Put it in,” she breathed out, snatching my phone from me. “Put it all the way in. Damn, this place is—”

“Amazing?” I plucked my phone from her grip and then skimmed the ad, looking at the details now.

“That price…” She sighed. “That pool… Ken, I could see us sunning out there on a summer’s day, sipping margaritas. You gotta call them. You have to.”

But my nose wrinkled when I saw the actual description of the place.

Three guys looking for a housemate. Prefer females, the text read and that forced my eyes up. Barbie’s were all shiny, just as blue as the pool in the photos, and I hated to be the one to kill her excitement.

“It’s a bunch of guys who only want to share with a woman,” I told her. “You and I know what that’s code for.”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“A bang maid. Someone to cook, clean, and suck their dicks,” I said, about to shove my phone into my pocket. Maybe I could fall on my knees and beg Marcia and Todd for the opportunity to stay. I’d pay more rent. I’d soundproof my room to drown out the sex noises. I’d— But Barbie was not about to be denied. Her fingers had my phone out of my hand in seconds, and then she tapped on the contact details.

“Barbie…!” My yelp had the front curtains of Janice’s place twitching, the woman peering out at us from behind the window with a scowl. “Shit, we need to get out of here before Janice calls the cops or something.”

“Hi, is this Connor?” she said, forcing me to hiss profanities under my breath. She held up a hand, blocking me with startling skill as I tried to snatch the device back. “Yeah, I’m calling about the ad for the room for a friend of mine.”

“Barbie, if you don’t give me my fucking phone back…” I whispered.

“Their name?” She looked at me with a slow smirk. “It’s Ken. That’s the address? We’ll be there in twenty minutes.” When she finished the call, she handed me my phone with a smirk. “Get in the car, bitch,” she said, “we’re gonna find you somewhere to live.”

Chapter 2

Van

I moved around the massive couch and plumped up the pillows then started to move them around. Girls seemed to love pillows. Every girl’s place I’d ever been to had mounds of the bloody things, which was why I’d bought more. This was a kind of Field of Dreams moment. Like if I built a female-friendly lounge room, she would come. A female flatmate rather than the fucking pigs we’d had living with us before.

Blokes were sneaky fucks.

Our last flatmate, Jared, had turned up to the place looking like a sane, normal person. We’d even had a beer with him before we sealed the deal and moved him in. He wore clean clothes, didn’t stink like an old gym sock, and seemed like the kind of bloke that could piss standing up without getting it all over the floor.

How wrong we were.

When we were finally forced to evict the guy due to unpaid rent, we’d discovered the source of the stink from the spare room. All three of us guys worked hard and weren’t afraid of getting our hands dirty, but the minute we opened that door, we’d all staggered back.

Bottles and cans covered every possible surface. On the bedside tables, the bedhead, on the en suite sink and all across the floor. It was as if he thought his dick would get shorter each time he tossed an empty bottle into the bin. Then there were the piles of festy clothes.

---