The Guys Next Door Read online

  The Guys Next Door

  Amber Thielman

  © 2020 Amber Thielman

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  THE GUYS NEXT DOOR

  © 2020 AMBER THIELMAN

  Cover Design by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

  Formatting by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

  Front Matter

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Special Thanks

  About the Author

  This book is dedicated to my mom, Joni, the only person I know who can be knocked down ten million times and still stand up again with a freaking smile. My admiration for you is beyond measure. Every idea you have, every dream you dream… you inspire me to be unabashedly me. I love you, mom; you are my sunshine.

  The diner was loud. Some old school classic rock tune played through the speaker over our heads. The smell of greasy food from the fryer made my stomach churn, but I decided it wasn’t the food doing it. Or the smell. Or the unpleasant environment of the bustling food joint in general. The truth was my stomach hadn’t stopped turning since we’d left Michigan.

  “Their burgers are the best in town,” Audrey said for the eighteenth time in the thirty minutes we’d been there. She rolled a straw wrapper between her fingers, crushing the strip of paper with underlying wrath. She looked at Noah, who seemed to have mentally checked out somewhere between Chicago and Seattle. I wished I could have joined him.

  “The fries are good, too,” Audrey pressed. My little brother said nothing, only stared at the glass of ice water in front of him with a vacant gaze. His eyes were bleak, but his nose wrinkled in an undeniable look of hatred. Mom used to tell him that his expression would freeze like that if he kept it up. Too bad she wasn’t here to see it.

  I turned my gaze away from him to scope the place out. The table we sat at was dirty, but Audrey didn’t seem to notice. Had my mother been here, it would have been the first thing she’d point out. The uncomfortable booth seat was an ugly putrid green color, and there were tears in the cheap vinyl under my legs. As the front door opened and closed, a chilly breeze whipped through. The heater did little, and as we waited for our food, goosebumps rose on my arms. I wanted my jacket, but it was packed away in Audrey’s car, probably right next to whatever was left of my dignity, along with all the memories we had left behind.

  “This place is the best,” said Audrey. Again. “I mean, it’s the perfect hangover cu—” She stopped herself, rosy cheeks flushing a crimson color that only added theatrically to her flustered expression. She rested her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand. “Sorry. Totally inappropriate.”

  “Mom and Dad never let us have fast food for lunch,” Noah said. “Unless it was a Friday.”

  Audrey and I looked over simultaneously. Noah’s eyes had wavered from the glass of water, and he was now staring at the dirty tabletop. Progress, I think. I forced myself to meet Audrey’s gaze, wondering how she would acknowledge that one.

  “That’s funny,” she said. “Because when your dad and I were kids he used to buy us burgers and fries, always with two large Cokes, and we’d go to the park around the corner and eat the entire bag.” She was smiling, but Noah didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up. Audrey glanced at me, her audience, and chuckled. “He couldn’t have been much older than Noah… fifteen, maybe. I was only five or six, but I knew what was about to happen when I found him raiding the piggy bank and pocketing the change.”

  I tried to smile for her, but I couldn’t. It hurt to think too hard about it, to see my parents’ faces in my mind. It had only been a month. A month since—

  “Dad is dead,” Noah said. His body went rigid beside me. “So is Mom. They’re both dead.”

  “Noah,” I said. The smile melted from Audrey’s face. She tucked a strand of her blond hair behind one ear and cleared her throat, unsure of how to proceed. I couldn’t blame her. Recently, nobody knew what to say—especially to us.

  “Sorry for the wait, guys,” someone said behind me. I heard a sigh of relief escape Audrey’s red-stained lips. She was glad for the interruption. So was I.

  The server dispensed our food onto the table, refilling the waters as he did so. My stomach churned as I caught sight of the greasy burgers and generously salted fried potatoes. They were sopping wet like they’d been basking in a bucket of grease, and I had to close my eyes to ward off nausea.

  “There’s an extra side of hot mustard for you there, Aud,” said our server.

  “You guys know how to take care of me here,” said Audrey with a laugh. “Thanks, Elijah. Give my compliments to the chef.” The server, Elijah, winked at her. Then he was gone in a flash.

  I watched, repulsed, as Audrey went straight for the hot mustard with a handful of fries. She pushed the mustard-clad potatoes into her mouth and chewed, catching my gaze with a smile.

  “I can’t eat French fries without it,” she admitted. “I don’t know why people find it so gross. It’s an addiction.”

  “Our dad did it, too.” Noah lifted his gaze from the tabletop. He finally looked at Audrey. “It’s disgusting.”

  It was my turn to have a staring contest with the tabletop. Looking at Audrey was like looking at Dad, and both Noah and I knew it. Same blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, identical charming smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of days. It made it that much harder to be in Seattle, away from Michigan, two thousand miles from our school, friends, and our home. It was an empty house now, cold, dark and lonely; uninhabited as of late. But it was still our house, the one we’d grown up in, created memories in, and lived in until the night after the accident.

  “I know this is rough for you guys,” Audrey said, and I braced myself for the incoming pep talk she thought she was so good at. She put down a French fry and wiped her fingers on a napkin. A tiny grease stain clung to the cloth. “These last couple of weeks have been hell, I know. For all of us. You lost your parents, and I lost a brother and sister-in-law. It will never stop hurting, but it will get easier.”

  I reached for my glass of water to take a drink but lost the desire halfway through and traced a heart in the condensation instead. Audrey watched me, biting her lip. I knew she was trying hard for us, but I didn’t have the energy to put her at ease. We’d heard and seen it daily since the accident: the condolences, the gazes of human sympathy, the never-ending pep talks and the keep-your-chin-up speeches. We’d heard it a hundred times now, but no matter how many times it was rattled off, it had yet to fix anything. Words were only words, but the pain was excruciatingly real.

  “It’s been years since I’ve seen you two, and that’s my fault,” Audrey continued. “I should have been more involved in your lives. I know that now. I’m sure it’s scary to fly to another state to live with an aunt you hardly know, yeah?”

  Noah played with the pickle on his plate but didn’t eat it. I realiz
ed he’d barely eaten anything in days, and I felt the urge to spoon-feed him like an infant. Mom wasn’t around to take care of him anymore. Now, it was up to me.

  “Eat something,” I hissed, but he ignored me. He’d always been good at that, ignoring me, but recently he’d made tuning people out an art form.

  “We knew about you, though,” Noah said to Audrey. I almost cringed because I knew what was coming next. “Dad always talked about you. He called you flaky and erratic, whatever that means.”

  Audrey rolled her eyes so far back in her head, I feared they would never come down.

  “He never approved of my lifestyle, but he loved me, and I loved him, just like you love Olivia, Noah, even if you guys fight sometimes.”

  “Yeah, right,” Noah muttered. I kicked him under the seat, wishing I had some duct tape and rope.

  “Shut up.”

  “I don’t want to be here,” said Noah. I couldn’t even scold him this time because it was true. I didn’t want to be there, either. “I want to be home, with my friends, in our house.”

  “The house is for sale, kiddo,” said Audrey. She pushed the tray of French fries aside. “Besides, my job is here. I can’t just pack up and leave Seattle. My whole life is here.”

  “Your job?” repeated Noah. I braced myself, knowing what was coming next, but I wasn’t sure if I should smack him or egg him on. “I didn’t know that owning a strip club was a real job.”

  Silence. Audrey’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits, nostrils large and flaring like Dad’s used to when he was angry about something.

  “My business is not a strip joint,” she said steadily. “I own an all-male dance club.”

  “There’s no difference—!”

  “Never mind him,” I said, cutting Noah off. I knew the impending argument would have been an interesting one, but it was probably safer to stop them both before it started. “Sorry, Aud, he’s only thirteen. His favorite thing to do with Mom and Dad was to push their buttons, too.”

  “That’s not true!” Noah snapped. He looked ready to slap me as if that was something new. “Mom and Dad liked me better than you, Liv. I wasn’t a spoiled brat.”

  I opened my mouth to rip him a new one, but Audrey raised her hand in the air to shush us.

  “Enough.” She clasped her fingers together and leaned forward, her eyes flickering between us. “I have to be honest; I don’t know why your parents chose me, guys. I’m new to this. I have never been a mom, and truth be told I hadn’t been planning on anything of the sort for quite some time.” She sighed, blowing air between her pursed lips. “But what’s done is done, and we will make this work.” She went silent again, probably for dramatic effect. If ever there was a Queen of Drama, it was Audrey.

  “Whatever,” muttered Noah.

  Audrey leaned back in the booth and picked up her burger, shaking her head. “Eat, please. We have to stop by my club before we head home. I’m sure you are both exhausted.”

  Although Michigan wasn’t known for its sweltering heat or dry climate, I’d never felt so cold and wet in my life as I did in Seattle. It had been raining when we arrived on the plane, and it was still raining now as we piled into Audrey’s car and drove through the city. The traffic was thick, the rain cold, and the air was brisk with a chill I couldn’t shake from my bones. It was the cold that stunned you, clinging like wet clothes to skin while chilling you to the core with every breath taken. It was miserable, and it only made me miss Michigan more.

  “You get used to the rain,” Audrey said as we drove. She must have noticed my expression because I had said little in the time we’d landed. “I couldn’t stand it at first, but it grows on you. Now I find it—cleansing.”

  Noah scoffed loudly, and I turned my head to stare out the window as the fog rolled in from the water. I doubted her words, but I was too tired to argue about it. I couldn’t bring myself to care about the weather after everything that had happened. Besides, the rain seemed to suit my mood just fine.

  “Here we are,” Audrey said after another few minutes. She pulled the car up to the curb and got out, heading toward the front door. For a moment, Noah and I stayed sitting in our seats, unsure if we should follow her. Through the rain, I watched Audrey turn and wave to us, flustered.

  “Do we have to?” Noah groaned, and I undid my seatbelt.

  “The sooner she’s done here, the sooner we can go to her place and sleep,” I reminded him. I didn’t have to convince him because I knew damn well that Noah was just as exhausted as I was.

  “So, this is it?” Noah asked as he stepped into the rain from the back seat of the car. His tone was doubtful, snide. He stepped onto the sidewalk and looked up at the neon sign that read The Guys Next Door in flashing green letters. I thought it looked catchy, but he seemed unimpressed.

  “This is it,” Audrey confirmed, and the pride in her voice was evident. Not wanting to do anything to burst her swelling satisfaction, Noah and I followed her through the doors.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected a male dance club to be like, but this wasn’t it. As Audrey shook the rain from her hair and went ahead toward the bar, Noah and I stopped at the doorway and scanned the place warily.

  The Guys Next Door was dimly lit, even during off hours. There was no carpet on the floor, and instead some rubber-like material, but it didn’t take away from the peculiar charm it possessed. Someone had painted the walls a mixture of black and bold red, with some other fainter pastels mixed in that complimented the area warmly. There was a small seating area with little tables and little chairs, but even more standing room.

  Directly ahead of us on the far side of the wall was a stage. Toward the stage and to the right was a bar with a line of bar stools set up against the counter. Behind the bar, set up nice and organized, was an entire wall of full and half-full bottles of liquor. I guessed there had to be from one hundred to even two hundred bottles of booze lined up there. My fingers twitched, itching for a drink. I’d never been much of a drinker, even in high school, but a shot of tequila sounded great right about now.

  “I bet she comes here on her days off and goes to town with those bottles,” Noah muttered under his breath. I reached over and smacked the back of his head, hoping Audrey hadn’t heard him. She was standing up at the bar, conversing with a woman behind the counter. The woman had an empty glass in one hand, a dish towel in the other, and she was drying the cup as she listened to whatever Audrey was rambling about.

  “Come on.” I forced myself toward the bar and Noah followed, if a bit hesitantly. Since the night of the accident, an invisible thread now attached him to me even if he would never admit it. It was as if he worried that if I wandered too far away, he would lose me, too.

  “Be polite,” I said under my breath. As we approached, the woman behind the counter looked over at us. Audrey stopped talking for a moment, and the woman smiled.

  “You must be Olivia and Noah,” she said, setting down the glass. “We’re all so happy to have you here.” She reached over the bar to take my hand, then Noah’s. From the light accent and the dark tone of her skin, this woman was Latina, Puerto Rican, maybe. She was beautiful in a bad-ass way, the kind of woman you wouldn’t want to piss off, but that you couldn’t resist drooling over simultaneously. Her eyes were the color of sage, her coal black hair tied back into a sloppy ponytail that somehow made her even more attractive. She wore jeans and a sequin tank top, one that bared her midriff. When she pulled back, I noticed a dangling jewel from her pierced navel. It was a dolphin. This was the woman who could turn heads and break necks—both figuratively and literally.

  “I’m Marisol,” she said with that charming accent. “Call me Mari. I was very sorry to hear about your parents.”

  “Hi,” Noah squeaked. I glanced over at him just in time to see a red flush creep to his cheeks.

  “Mari is our bartender,” Audrey said as if it wasn’t already obvious. “And she’s one of my best friends. Without her, this place wouldn’t be what it is.�
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  “Your aunt is a talented businesswoman,” Marisol said. “She built this club from the ground up.”

  “That’s really cool,” I said, glancing at Audrey. Our family had always described Audrey as irresponsible and childish but owning a place like this seemed remarkable. Noah, who had temporarily gotten over his pretty-girl-induced tongue tie, looked bored again. I wished he’d try harder, even just for me.

  “The fuuuuun has arrived!” sang a male voice from somewhere in the building. Noah and I turned as a handsome man that looked to be in his late twenties appeared at the edge of the stage. My jaw fell to the floor, and I took a moment to compose myself and snap it shut.

  Our new male visitor struck a pose, sporting his diamond-studded skinny jeans, a tie-dye tank top, and a white leather coat with sequins and fringe hanging from each arm. The outfit was completed with a pink boa wrapped fashionably around his neck and an oversized, jewel-studded purse that hung from the crook of his elbow.

  “Holy shit,” said Noah, and I silently agreed.

  “That’s Avery,” Audrey said. “He’s the star of my show.”

  The guy, Avery, jumped down from the stage and approached us. His stride was confident, his smile big and white. His eyes gleamed as he air-kissed Audrey and Marisol, then he turned and squeezed my shoulder as one would do with an old friend. Then he leaned down to speak to Noah.

  “Don’t tell the others that I’m the best,” he whispered in his ear, loud enough for the rest of us to hear. “They can’t handle the reality.”

  For the first time in weeks, a tiny smile appeared on my little brother’s face, but in less than an instant, it was gone. Just like that, his gaze was somber again, and I felt a twinge of sadness.

  We watched Avery hop up onto the bar counter. He crossed his legs dramatically and then blew Marisol a kiss. She giggled and winked at him, and I felt like I was missing some inside joke between the two.

  “My place after work?” she suggested with a purr. My face heated up in a slow burn. Beside me, Noah cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably as he stared at the floor, scuffing the rubber with the toe of his sneaker. All at once, three pairs of eyes turned toward us.