by Piper Rayne
“Morning, Ashley!” I yelled out, but I doubt she heard me over the music. I sighed as I went to butter my toast. I was on my second bite when I heard a noise behind me and turned around to greet my new roommate. I tried to scream, but the toast got stuck in my throat as I tried to scream and breathe at the same time. They rushed up behind me and grabbed me by the waist and pressed until finally, the toast flew out. I grabbed the nearest object which was a useless butter knife and held it up to defend myself against the overly gorgeous David Gandy’s twin that was now in my kitchen. Not even thinking, I quickly ran to my room and slammed the door, cursing myself as I realized I left my phone in the kitchen. Now, I couldn’t call for help before I got slaughtered by the sexiest serial killer known to man.
“I’m calling the cops!”
I heard him chuckle. He actually chuckled. “Isn’t this your phone?”
Dammit! “Who are you? What do you want? I don’t have anything of value.” I racked my brain. Maybe he wasn’t a serial killer, maybe it was Ashley’s boyfriend. Sure, Ashley lived here too, but I guess I wasn’t planning on seeing her boyfriend anytime soon.
It was silent for a moment before he responded, “It’s me, Ash.” He paused. “Your roommate,” he said, as if that was obvious. “Your new co-living roommate,” he stressed. “You know, the guy you fucked a few weeks ago?”
Um… what? I slowly opened the door, peering out at him, my sorry excuse for a weapon butter knife with butter still on it, in my hands.
I looked him up and down.
Down.
Down.
Down to where his private part was in full view.
Holy shit! Holy fucking shit! He found me. Is he stalking me? My eyes went back to his penis where I found myself lingering too long before looking back to him. It’s not even hard! Okay focus. “What?” He looked at me like I was in the wrong house. I stared at him; mouth open before slowly shaking my head. “No, my roommate’s name is Ashley.”
“Right, that would be me. The name isn’t for just girls you know.” I stared at him in confusion. He smiled. “I get that a lot.” I watched as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a container of juice. He held the carton up offering me some and I was momentarily stunned that he was offering me my own damn juice. I slowly shook my head as he put the carton to his lips and drank. He leaned against the counter, leg in front of the other, and yet there I was still staring at his penis. “It’s why I have people call me Ash,” he continued, obviously aware I was staring at his junk.
I finally remembered I had a voice. “I didn’t know you were male. I mean, I didn’t know you were you,” I corrected myself. I stood straight and crossed my arms. “My ad stated females only.”
“No, your ad stated female preferred.”
I paused. He was right. Truth be told, I didn’t think anyone read my ad since I kept getting weirdos responding to it, which is why I made the ad sound so ridiculous. “Okay, but still, don’t you think you could’ve told me.”
“I sent you a picture.”
I shut my eyes. “I thought you were the girl, being Ashley!”
“That would be my nosy cousin, Bria. We grew up together, so she’s more of a sister, really.”
“You were dressed as one of the Butabi brothers from A Night at the Roxbury,” I said more to myself than him.
“Steve.”
“What?”
“I was dressed as Steve Butabi from A Night at the Roxbury.”
What the hell did that even matter? I looked back up at him and he shrugged as he reached for an apple and took a bite. His eyes never left mine as he took another bite.
“Of all the places for you to apply, it had to be this one? How did you even know it was mine?”
He shrugged. “You mentioned it once or twice in between us… well… you know. You were there.” Damn that liquid courage. “Will this somehow become a problem? I hope not, I’ve already signed the lease.”
I nodded. He was right, even if I didn’t want him here, I had no choice. So, I put on my game face. “It’ll be fine, we’ll make it work.”
“I would hope so, it was your lack of proper word selection.” I scowled at his words. Yes, I knew all of this was my fault, but he didn’t have to rub my damn nose in it. He took another bite in the silence.
“Just to make it perfectly clear, we’re roommates. That’s it, nothing more. Roommates. You got that?” He slowly nodded. I scowled. “I’m not having sex with you. We,” I pointed to the both of us, “are not having sex.”
“I never said we were.”
Oh. For some reason, I almost felt offended at that statement. I again looked down at his penis which jerked. Is he… is he getting hard? I quickly turned around. “There aren’t really any rules here, but I would prefer clothes.” I glanced at him briefly over my shoulder and noticed he had finished the rest of his apple. He casually threw the core away before grabbing more juice out of the fridge.
Before he put the carton to his lips, I stopped him. “I’m sorry, could you… you know… use a glass or something?”
He smiled as he grabbed a cup out of the dish rack. It took him a million years to pour himself a cup before taking a long swallow. “Sure, no problem,” he finally said before winking at me and strolling out of the kitchen. “Catch you later, roomie,” he said on the way out as I was left with the memory of his hard ass.
7
Perrie
I can’t believe my new roommate is Ashley… err... Ash. How the hell did I never realize Ash wasn’t his government name? Probably because you spent your last year in college screwing each other’s brains out instead of studying for physics or actually talking outside of sex. My phone dinged to an incoming text.
Claire: The inevitable has happened. Act shocked and concerned.
I took a deep breath and summoned the strength from the one time I played a doorknob in the second grade. It wasn’t a huge role obviously, but I was assigned the doorknob because everyone was getting a part, regardless. And I played the hell out of that role. The best door that ever knobbed, I would even say.
I prepared myself for the ridiculousness that is Barb as I walked into the breakroom where Barb was crying her heart out. “Maybe you can come to a compromise. It’s his wedding too, you know. It’s okay if he doesn’t agree with everything you pick out.” Claire looked up at me, grateful that I came in. “I have to go but Perrie’s here, I’m sure she has great advice.” I gave Claire a pointed look, my eyes pleading with her to not leave me here alone with Barb, but she did anyway. That bitch.
I stood by the door, Barb at the table crying. Frank, our boss, started to walk by but stopped when he saw us.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, not daring to walk into a room with a person crying, let alone a female crying.
I shook my head. “I have no idea.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No.”
He sighed. “Well, go ask her!”
I huffed as I gingerly walked in. I looked between Frank and Barb as he urged me on. “Hey, Barb,” I said as I slid in the chair across from her. She looked up, nose red from crying as she reached for another tissue.
“Hey, Pear.”
I nodded, not saying more. Frank waved at me to continue. I counted to ten before I finally asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, you don’t want to know.”
She was right about that, and I started to get up, but the look on Frank’s face told me otherwise. Counting to ten, I tried again. “Sure, I do. Tell me.”
She sniffed as she wiped her nose again. “I’ve been basically planning this wedding all by myself, and Paul chooses now to tell me that there is too much pink. I told him—”
I cut her off, “Yeah, you know what? I can’t do this. Just work it out, Barb. Pink is the devil’s second favorite color. Not everything has to be pink, take a moment and listen to him.”
I walked back to my desk, wondering if that was rude. Of course, it was, but Ba
rb was a whole other level of horse shit you just didn’t want to be bothered with if you stepped in it. So instead of cleaning the horse shit, you just throw the whole damn shoe away.
“Perrie!” I jumped at the sound of my name. My boss, Frank, looked over at me. “Here are the topics for tonight’s podcast.” I grabbed the papers as he continued talking, “Can you try to be more more tonight?”
“More?”
“More. You know, more. More like you actually like your job and less of the whole you’d rather be drinking acetone and setting yourself on fire.” He didn’t even wait for me to answer as he walked away and I looked down at my sheet of paper. It was probably because I did hate my job. It started out great for the most part. People would call in, ask questions regarding life, then we shifted to crime stories which I absolutely loved, and it was great. But the later they put my podcast, the more the questions got… well, more.
It went from, ‘how can I make a four-course meal using ramen, spam, and enchilada sauce’ to ‘how can I be better at deepthroating.’ The absolute worst part? Frank wanted us to ‘dress’ the part. He felt it made the show more authentic if I was wearing something revealing to answer sex comments. I hated it, it was revolting, not to mention degrading. My only saving grace was the fact that no one actually saw us, so I guess I sort of went with it.
I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad if I actually had more recent sexual experiences, other than what the ex-boyfriend called the ‘best three minutes of his life’. Instead, I spend hours on various porn sites trying to learn. I’m not saying anything is wrong with porn sites, but for the love of cheese, they could at least take an acting class or two.
I was tired, and I was drained but that was nowhere near the amount of shock I had when I opened the door to my apartment and there was Ash sitting comfortably on the couch with a notepad, and an air mattress in the middle of the living room. Oh, and there were two people having sex on it. My mouth dropped open and I stared. It took me gasping before Ash finally looked up at me.
“We’re almost done.”
I thickly swallowed as I looked back to the couple on the air mattress, seemingly ignoring me as they continued. I quickly slammed the door as I went out into the hallway. What the hell is going on here? I slid down the wall, my knees to my chest, trying to figure out not only what I just walked in on, but why? Oh, and what the ever-loving fuck?
At least twenty minutes went by before the door slowly opened and the couple that was having sex in my living room both walked out, looking at each other happily. I suppose them being happy was justified. The girl glanced down at me and waved. “Thank you,” she said before getting into the elevator. I didn’t even know what to say back to her. What the hell was she thanking me for? I let at least another twenty minutes go by before I took a deep breath, stood up and made my way into my apartment.
The air mattress was gone, the furniture was moved back into place, but the smell of sex still lingered in the air. I heard something sizzling in the kitchen along with a waft of something that smelled amazing. I’m guessing he had a date coming over. My stomach growled, reminding me of the granola bar I had at lunch that didn’t suffice. I walked slowly toward it. There at the stove stood Ash stirring something on the stove, before moving to the counter to gather the fresh basil and chopped garlic and throw it into the pot. He peered over his shoulder and smiled. “I was wondering when you were going to come back in.”
I gave a half-smile as I peered into the cabinet and grabbed a pack of microwavable mac and cheese which was horrible by the way. “I’m making spaghetti, interested?” He didn’t even wait for me to respond as he grabbed two plates out of the cabinet. I stood frozen in my spot not sure of what I should do. I didn’t say anything and watched as he dished up pasta onto both plates, followed by a generous scoop of sauce. He placed them both on the table before walking to the fridge and peering inside before taking out a bottle of wine.
“I wasn’t sure if you were a wine drinker.” He held up the bottle. “Cabernet okay?” Again, he didn’t wait for me to respond as he took two glasses from the cabinet and filled them both halfway. He placed a glass in front of each dish and pulled the chair out. That’s when I noticed he was waiting for me to sit down. When I didn’t move, he motioned for me to sit. Hesitantly and ever so slowly, I sat as he pushed the chair up to the table before taking his own. I watched as he swirled his noodles in the sauce and took a bite. He briefly shut his eyes and nodded as if he gave himself the seal of approval before he really dug in. I finally picked up my fork, taking a bite.
Damn, this was good. “You made this?” I asked him as I took an even bigger bite. Thoughts of being classy be damned.
“Secret family recipe, although don’t you dare tell my mom I didn’t have time to make real pasta and used boxed instead.” He winked at me as he took a sip of his wine.
“I’m not that great at cooking. I mean, I know the basics but I guess even that can be questionable.” I took a long drink. “My dad said it was okay but I’m sure more often than not, he was just being nice. I think it was because he was tired of drinking nutritional shakes so any food was practically gourmet.”
“You two must have been really close.”
I paused, not realizing I was talking so freely about my dad, which was something I never did. I quickly changed the subject. “Wow, your family goes all out, don’t they? Homemade pasta, what else can you do?”
He shrugged, taking another bite before pouring us both more wine. It was odd how much we didn’t know about each other considering we were practically in a relationship, only not really in a relationship during university. I suppose we spent more time in the bedroom not really talking unless he was giving me a command. After a few minutes, the wine finally did its job by giving me the encouragement I needed.
I cleared my throat. “So, about earlier.”
He looked up at me, waiting for me to continue. I didn’t. We just stared at each other. I guess he wasn’t going to make this easy for me at all. “The people in the living room?” He nodded, still not saying anything. I sighed. “I thought you were a bartender?”
“I am. Sometimes. Mostly on call.” He took another bite of his food.
“So, what? When you’re not bartending, you’re watching people have sex? You don’t think that’s something you should’ve shared with me?”
“Firstly, I’m not watching people have sex, at least not unless they want me to.” I started to say something but he cut me off. “Secondly, it’s my job to offer advice when needed.”
“I would definitely like for you to elaborate on your answer.”
“Think of me as a... a life coach, who happens to specialize in sex.”
“Sex? So... a sex coach?”
He smirked, probably because I said it as if I had never heard of it before. “Not just sex. Relationships go way beyond intimacy. Don’t you agree?”
I blinked several times before throwing out an answer. “Yes, yes of course. I completely agree.”
“Besides, you tend to learn what your partner is looking for when you used to get paid for it,” he said so casually, and he shrugged.
Wait...what? Was he a prostitute? Did Ash become a prostitute and now he’s just sitting at the table, casually eating spaghetti like it was the most normal thing in the world? What does this mean? Is that why he was on Sextee? And is the whole not kissing thing true? Ask him!
I stared at my plate a few minutes more before deciding to wing it and ask him more. I decided to forgo it when I looked up and he was staring at me with a smirk on his stupid face. He knew exactly what I was going to ask. I decided to go another route instead. “So, what were you in Vegas for?” Probably a prostitute convention.
“Business.”
“Business?” I parroted back at him. He nodded, pouring himself more wine. Wait, he did have a huge hotel room. I at least noticed that when I snuck out in the morning.
“You know, you do a lot of thinking, and not so muc
h talking. That’s still a thing with you I see.”
“Why do you make it sound like you know me? We had sex a few times, and that was the end of it.”
His eyes darkened as he stared at me. In fact, he looked pissed. He was just about to open his mouth to say something when his phone rang. I have never been happier for an interruption in my life. With his eyes still on me, he answered, “Hey… and how did that discussion go? Did you approach it the way we discussed or did you decide to do your own thing again?”
I walked out of the living room into our shared common. I left Ash and his conversation in the kitchen as I went into my room and thought about the first time he spoke to me. It had been one month, or as I sometimes called it ‘post-Hailey’…
* * *
“Hey Pineapple, get that tiny ice we like. Don’t fuck it up this time.” I rolled my eyes and turned up the volume on my phone, the song The Beginning Is The End, Is The Beginning by Smashing Pumpkins was just going off, and Push It by Garbage picking right up. What can I say, 90s alternative was better than the shit they played these days.
Pineapple, one of the many names I was called. In all honesty, I doubt anyone even knew my real name. I heard the bell ring and basically, everyone got up to head to their next period. Everyone but me since I didn’t have one. This was my favorite part of the day.
I got to sit here mostly alone in the library. Once I was sure no one was around, I dug around in my bag for today’s prized possession. My Walking Dead comic book. Even though I’ve read this particular one a million times, it never got old.
“I bet that thing has seen better days.”
I jumped at the voice behind me, damn near dropping my comic book. There he was—Ash—captain of the football team, captain of the basketball team, and most likely lead in whatever spring production musical they were doing this year. I expected him to keep walking but instead, he dropped his bag down and sat right next to me. I looked around at all the empty spaces and seats he could have taken, which was damn near the entire library.
