by J Marie
I’ve been preparing for this moment. I don’t understand why I’m so thrown off, but then again, I do. Letting him move in with me is the most intense thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never lived with a guy or even another roommate before. We’ve worked at Topsy Turvy together for the last year. Boundaries will need to be set right up front, but what the hell, I’ve never had boundaries before… I’m very much the do first, deal with the consequences after type of girl. But nonetheless, boundaries need to be set even though I know I’ll be continually tempted to blow through because as much as I like sex, I know he likes me for more than just friends-with-benefits. And it’s not fair to drag him along. No matter what I say to Zara. Brooks will never be a meaningless fuck.
Another knock comes at the front door, and I curb my mental pep talk.
“Coming!” I yell as dirty images and thoughts creep into my mind of us doing just that. I mist some air freshener around where I was smoking to cover the weed smell and straighten out my clothing, worried about wrinkles like I’m going on a first date with a guy I’m into.
Get it together! I tell myself.
I whip open the door, and words get caught in my throat at the sight in front of me. Brooks looking hot as shit in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants stands awkwardly outside my door. Damn that man lingerie. I have to check myself to make sure the drool isn’t falling out of my mouth because hot tamales, that is a dick print if I’ve ever seen one. I just can’t look away, and I know I should.
“Damn, son… you packing some serious heat down there. Didn’t your momma ever tell you not to go out in public looking like a slut?” I blurt out, the filter between my mouth and brain clearly turned off.
A blush covers his cheeks. “Um… what?” he says, looking down at his outfit. I continue my ogling, eyes roaming over wide built shoulders and down bulging biceps that I swear are getting bigger as I stare. The black cotton tee molds obscenely well to the washboard abs and chiseled pecs he’s packing just below it. Bro works out, for reals. Now, if only I had some water for a wet tee shirt contest.
Stop it.
“Oh…nothing. Sorry.” I brush it off as if I wasn’t ogling him like a total pervert just now. I’m not really sorry at all. I’ve never been that blushing virgin who takes peeks as sexy men. No I openly ogle them like a pervert. My brain is screaming at me that all those before mentioned boundaries have fallen to the wayside. It’s the Titanic, and I don’t have a lifeboat or a lifejacket. Looks like I’m going down with the ship tonight.
“Hey, Mia,” Brooks croons and I’m dead, well… not literally, but that voice. It oozes with sex and naughtiness. Yes, please!
I finally tear my gaze away from those sinfully low, dick print showing pants. Trailing up his body, I catch the amusement on his face as he notices my obvious perusal. Embarrassment flames my cheeks and so I do the only thing I can think of. “Oh, hi.” Heat swamps my cheeks, embarrassment evident. Damnit Mia, stop acting juvenile. What the fuck is wrong with me? I internally roll my eyes at myself.
The intensity of his stare gives me the chills, and I want to shrink away because this feels too close. Too intimate. Too much. Combined with that sexy as hell grin and the two dimples lining his mouth, I’m starting to melt into a puddle.
I need to move away from this conversation. Be strong. I tell myself. He’s just a full-blown man, wrapped in a delicious sandalwood scent with scruff I’d like to feel down under who needs a place to stay. I’m being a good human being.
He’s showered recently because I can smell the cologne he used. Not too strong, but enough to make my mouth water and my nose crave more of that aroma. Is it weird that I almost want to smell his armpits just to get more of that freshly showered scent? I want to do delightfully depraved things to him, but I can’t. I’ve already told myself no.
I gather myself. With a newfound control, I smile and widen the door, so he can get past me. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here sexy.”
I glance behind him, confused. “Hold up, where the hell is the rest of your stuff? You literally have a single duffle bag and a toiletry bag with you… where’s the bed, chairs, furniture, etcetera… Or are you planning on just sleeping with me?”
A blush creeps up his face before he speaks. “Um, no. Wyatt will be here in a couple of hours with his truck. He offered to help me move in since he feels bad about leaving before our lease is up.”
Now that he’s closer, I take in his appearance more. Dark brown, almost black hair covers his head and stops just above the tops of his ears. It still looks damp. Another little tidbut that tells me he’s recently showered. Eyes the deepest brown I’ve ever seen. God, I’ve never realized how sexy he is before this exact moment. I’m more than mildly lusty over my coworker, even if we do work different shifts. No shame here.
I’m off work tonight, so we hang out for the next two hours chatting about things at work. When he tells me about Wyatt and Kaylen moving in after dating for just three short months I scoff on the inside.
Love?
Great. Insert internal eye roll here. Another couple supposedly bitten by this love bug that everyone seems to believe in. Here’s the thing… just because P goes into V does not automatically mean you’re in love. I’d know this well because I’ve had a lot of P in V.
Another thing… love doesn’t exist. Yes, I’d told Macy I believed in it, but I didn’t want to break her delicate emotions by telling her how I really felt about it.
Love is a sham. How do people even fall in love? Do they believe falling in love is similar to Alice in Wonderland falling down the rabbit hole? Yeah, that’s dumb. People who run around with their crazy notions of hearts skipping beats and butterflies are nuts. Newsflash, if your heart really skipped a beat, you’d be dead. How’s that for love? Death by love. I laugh at my own joke.
He looks down at his phone, and a frown furrows his brow.
Just as I’m about to speak up and ask why the furrow, there’s a knock on the door. Brooks gets up and walks to the door, opening it to unveil the mysterious roommate, or who I assume is Wyatt. If not, it’s hella weird that there’s a random guy at my front door. He’s tall like Brooks but skinnier with blonde hair. He has muscles, but not my type. Dark green eyes and a clean shaven face. He really shouldn’t stand beside Brooks because there is no comparison on the hot meter.
Brooks moves to the side, allowing his friend to come inside as I silently stroll over to where they now stand. “Mia, this is Wyatt. Wyatt, Mia.” He nods his head at me with a polite hello. His eyes trail over my space, and I wonder what he thinks about it for a brief moment.
Having someone occupy my space is different, but it doesn’t feel awful. It’s a little uncomfortable now that Wyatt is here, but he’ll be leaving shortly.
Maybe it’s the fact that it’s Brooks, and I can admit I’m mildly attracted to his chill demeanor. I don’t know where he’d come from a year ago, but he seemed to fit into our Topsy Turvy crew fairly well.
“Okay, well. Wyatt and I are going to unload his truck. We’ll be back.” With that, they both slip out the door and spend what takes like forever before they return, even though it’s only a few minutes.
A knock sounds on my door again as he and Wyatt let themselves back in. I cock my eyebrow at Brooks. “Why did you knock?”
“Um, don’t really know…”
“Dude, this is gonna be your home too now. There is no need to knock on your own place… ”
He nods, his smile tipping the corners of his lips and reaching his eyes. “Alright.” A smile creeps across Wyatt’s face as he shakes his head, but he makes no move to comment on the awkwardness of it.
As they trail across the living room, I notice both men are carrying boxes. Brooks is carrying three large boxes, while Wyatt holds one small, simple box. I wonder what the significance of the small box is, but I keep my question to myself. I don’t want him prying into my life, so I’ll lend him the same courtesy.
A dresser and side ta
ble slip through the door next and are placed in Brooks’s room.
They disappear out the front door again, and I listen as their boots thump down the ten steps that lead up to my apartment. The door flies open again, bumping and cursing hit my ears, and I jump up to go hold open the door. The top of the ugliest recliner I’ve ever seen in my life comes through the door, and I feel my face scrunch with displeasure.
Who in the world would own something that ugly? Brown and orange plaid, like something from the seventies.
My eyes find Brooks as he peeks around the back of the recliner. He shrugs or tries to while holding the chair, shaking his head, and his dimples are on full display again. Dear Lord, those dimples are sexy as fuck. “Do you have any idea how ugly that thing is?”
Helping Wyatt set it down, a full belly chuckle erupts from his lips. “Yeah, that’s what makes it so great.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Brooks.”
The chair is left in the middle of the living room and my eyes find Brooks. “Oh, hell no. You’re not leaving that out here!”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but it won’t exactly fit in my room with my mattress and other stuff.”
“How big is your damn mattress?”
“It’s real big.”
“Ha! That’s what she said.” A laugh rips from Wyatt’s lips before they leave again.
Brooks and Wyatt return with the biggest box spring I have ever seen. It’s got to be a California king size bed, by the looks of it. Like, this thing is HUGE. Like a caveman or a six-person family all sleeping in the same bed, huge. Hell, a homeless family could all sleep on it under a bridge somewhere and still have room for a dog or two.
They leave and come back once again with a mattress just as impressive as the box springs. I strangle the laugh bubbling up my throat as they curse and mutter their complete disapproval of how awkwardly large it is. I hear several bangs against unsuspecting objects—I’m assuming his dresser and side table—as they try to fit it in my second room, followed by curses. He wasn’t joking.
Luckily, I have huge rooms in this apartment, so it’s not an issue at all. I wonder if there is more furniture coming, but when Wyatt shakes his hand and says goodbye, I’m stumped.
“Wait, that’s all?”
“Yep, had a couple more pieces, but I didn’t think they’d all fit here and I never really used them, so I donated them.”
Huh, interesting.
“I’m sure we could have made it work, Brooks.”
“Ehh, it’s okay. I’m not worried about it now.” He heads back into his room and shuffles the dresser, nightstand, box springs and mattress until he gets it in just the right place.
I decide that while Brooks is getting his room altogether, I’m going to pour myself a drink. 11:00 AM isn’t too early for wine, right? I determine that it’s not and continue on my way; liquid courage and all. I walk over, pick up the paintbrush again, and get back to working on that stubborn black line.
I’m finally getting it smoothed out when Brooks reappears from my—his- room, a flush covers his face, and even with a sheen line of sweat beading his forehead, he still looks fine as hell. I’m losing my damn mind.
The smile on his face is infectious, and I want to bask in it. I’ve seen him smile before, but this one is an ‘I just caught my first fish’ or a ‘kid in the candy store’ smile. “I always forget how big it is until I have to move it.”
I lose my shit. I laugh so loud I think it shocks him. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Brooks.”
“Doing what?”
“Giving me the chance to make that’s what she said jokes.”
He cocks his head. “What’s that mean?”
My jaw goes slack as I stare at him. “You mean you’ve never heard that phrase before… in your whole life?”
“Um, no. Should I have?”
“Oh… never mind…” I say, shrugging it off.
He holds out his arm stopping me from turning away. “No, hey, wait… I want to know what it means.”
“It’s a sex joke, Brooks. Basically, someone says “man, that thing is huge,” and someone responds with that’s what she said… ya know, like, damn his dick is massive. Like… that’s what she says…”
He shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”
Oh boy. Where did he come from? “You never heard of a thing called a sexual innuendo?”
He deadpans. “No.”
“Where’d you say you were from again?”
“Somewhere you wouldn’t be able to find on a map. Do people really talk about that stuff? Guys dick size and stuff?” He looks so serious when he asks, and I bite down the laughter that threatens to break free.
“Yeah, girls talk about stuff like that, Brooks.”
“Is it something you wonder about me?”
“Wait, you know how big you are?”
Embarrassment flames his cheeks. “Well, I mean, I’ve compared it to objects that I’ve found laying around my old place if that’s what you mean…”
“What kind of objects?” I say. Now, I’m dying to know. I mean, the dick print on those grey sweatpants was showing off a lot, but I’m just downright curious.
“Let’s see… my phone, my roommate’s girlfriend’s penis shaped toy…”
“You mean a dildo? Your roommate’s girl left her dildo just laying around for you to compare your dick too?” Laughter bursts from my lips, unable to keep it in any longer.
“Yes…Look I don’t know much about girls or…dildos. Where I come from, the girls were separated from the guys unless there were chaperones, or your parents had announced your pending nuptials.” The hurt look on his face makes me feel bad. Obviously, he isn’t comfortable talking about this sort of thing, but the fact that he is gives a new light to the Brooks standing in front of me.
He looks around the room and sighs. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea after all. I’ll call Wyatt back and have him take the stuff back to my other apartment.”
He turns to walk away, and my arm reaches out uninhibited and stops him from going any further.
“Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just this living with someone is new to me, and I have a huge tendency of putting my foot in my mouth before thinking… Just… don’t go yet. Okay?”
A smile creases his mouth, “Okay.”
“One more question?” I ask because I still want to know.
“Shoot.” A question crosses his face like he isn’t entirely sure what’s going to come out of my mouth. To be honest, I’m not sure either.
“Were you bigger than the dildo?”
His eyes widen as he looks at me, uneasy. “Yes… That a good thing?”
“Hunny, that’s gonna make any girl smile,” I say with a wink, and he smiles again. I’m going to earn every one of those damn smiles.
“So…” he says with a finger pointed over his shoulder. “You wanna check it out?” Excitement sparkles in his eyes, and I can’t say no. Plus, I’m curious about the monstrosity currently residing in my second bedroom. I walk into the room, and a gasp falls from my lips. It’s enormous, and there’s barely a walkway between it and the dresser he brought. The room is stuffed to the brim.
The fluffy white pillow top makes me want to lay down and sleep for hours in its comfy-ness. To get lost in it. The pristine white is a clear contrast to the dark grey walls surrounding it.
I whistle. “If you even plan to have a slumber party, this is the perfect size bed for one.”
The corner of his lip curved into a smirk. “That a suggestion?”
“Hunny, I don’t think you could handle all this…” I wave my hand down my body.
His smile dims, and I feel like a royal asshat. Brooks stabs his fists into the pockets of his sweatpants, and I try not to drool over the fact that he just tightened the front of his pants again, enhancing my view more. He rocks back on his feet, looking embarrassed. “That’s probably true, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to give it a try.”
“If you need help ordering some of those custom fitted one’s this week, let me know. I’m not entirely sure this little college town will have… what is it… California king size sheets.”
“I’m terrible at this shit. I have no idea what happened to the ones I had.” My somber tone halts Mia from leaving the room, and she turns around.
“No worries. It happens to all of us at some point. But hey, your super big comfy bed—that I’m totally jealous of—is here now. If you need me, I’ll be in the living room.” I watch as she glides past me and props herself up on the chair in front of her easel.
My feet stay planted for a few minutes just watching her. She lights up a joint, and for a moment, I wish I was that close to her lips. Mia picks up the brush, and it glides smoothly over the canvas. I wonder if it’s something she knows she’s going to paint or if she just paints to paint. How long has she been painting? When did she start? I want to know every single detail. I take one more look before I head back into my room.
She isn’t in the living room when I come back from getting things somewhat set up in my new room. It’s weird to call it that, mine, but at the same time exciting. I’m finally going to be occupying the same space as Mia on a regular basis, and I won’t have to look like a creeper doing so.
I find her in the kitchen, but she hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take a minute to let my eyes take her in fully. Long waves of purple, blue, and pink cascade down and curl around her shoulders. Jean cut-off shorts cover her perfect, heart-shaped ass. She’s wearing her normal cat graphic t-shirt and combat boots—a trademark outfit for Mia Preston. Every part of her draws me in, and I’m a goner. I continue my perusal before her voice brings me back to the present. “There you go again, hot stuff, checking me out. You sure you don’t want a photo? I promise it’ll last longer.”
