Rebound Roommate

by Jules Barnard

  I feel cherished, and it’s nearly killing me. I want him so much, and I’m terrified of him at the same time. But I won’t allow fears I’ve harbored to control this moment.

  I won’t hide how I feel this time.

  His mouth seeks mine, but his lips are soft, his tongue twining and teasing. I run my hands down his sides to his thighs, where I grip him with the passion that’s been burning for so long.

  Tyler groans in my mouth and slides his hand down my chest, over my breast, where he pauses to cup and run his thumb over my nipple. I wiggle, because it’s impossible to stay still when he does that. His hand moves down my waist to the hem of my top, and he pulls it up and over my head without hesitation.

  That was my sleep cami, and I’m not wearing a bra.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, and I’m nervous. If I’m half naked, he needs to be too. “Take off your shirt,” I say.

  Tyler braces his leg on the floor and reaches between his shoulder blades to pull his shirt over his head, immediately returning his mouth to mine. Only now we’re chest to chest, and I don’t think there’s anything in the world that feels better than Tyler’s warm skin against mine.

  His fingers run over my shoulder, down my arm, to my hand, where he squeezes, warming that place in my heart I’ve protected. I kiss the slight indentation on his chin, the scruff that prickles my lips at the top of his throat, back to his mouth that’s soft and demanding. He kisses me like he’s worshipping my lips, the emotion pouring off him so intense, I nearly break away to catch my breath.

  I don’t. I kiss him back with everything I’ve ever felt for him.

  Tyler’s chest rises on a deep inhalation and he pulls away, shifting his weight, which makes us both wobble on the couch. His gaze is heated as he stares at me for long seconds, his eyes dark and intense—and if I’m reading it right—concerned. After a moment, he breaks eye contact to look around. “Where do you want to do this?”

  This is really happening. He doesn’t ask if I’m sure, just to name the place. And oh, God, why is that so hot?

  Then I remember Tyler hooking up with the last woman on this couch, which I attempt to flush from my mind, but now that it’s there…“Not here.”

  “Your room.”

  “No. Yours.” I want all of Tyler, his body, his heart…his bed. I don’t care that he’s in the loft. Better because it’s his space. All him.

  He stands quickly and pulls me up. My chest is completely bare, and even though Tyler has seen it before, instinct has me covering myself.

  He doesn’t say anything. He watches me slip off my socks and walk barefoot to the ladder. He quickly does the same with his shoes and socks, and follows me.

  I feel him behind me as I climb, the heat of his body so close, his hand on the small of my bare back, protectively holding me in place. I scale the rest of the way and crawl across his bed, which takes up most of the loft floor.

  Tyler slides to my side and tucks me up against him. His mouth is immediately on my lips, his hands tugging down my sleep shorts. I have one instant of hesitation. A spark of worry that this is all we’ll ever be to each other, the same concern I mentioned to Nessa earlier.

  “Wait.” I push his chest with my hand, and he pulls back.

  Tyler and I have only ever been lovers, never more. I want more. I stare at his handsome face, taking in the lines of his cheekbones, the strong chin, the beautiful eyes that are all emotion.

  He kisses my cheek tenderly, studying my gaze. “Okay?”

  His expression is so gentle, and if I’m reading it right, loving. He’s asking if I’m all right.

  Nessa’s advice was to seize the moment. I haven’t been living, I’ve been surviving. This, right now, is living.

  I wrap my arm around his back, press my lips to his, and pull him close.

  Tyler’s hands return to my shorts, and he slips them off my body, the article disappearing off the side of the bed. The only barriers between us are my lacy boy shorts and his jeans.

  I run my hands down the ripples and contoured muscles of his chest and arms. He’s not overly bulky, but his shape is so perfectly masculine, I can’t stop tracing my hands up and over his smooth skin—and down. I want to go down.

  My fingers tug on the band of his jeans, to the snap at the front. Tyler rolls on his back, and I unfasten his pants. He pushes and kicks his jeans off and over the side, before his mouth returns to my body. This time on my chest, where he marks a path with his lips around my breast and nipple. He remains just shy of that sensitive peak and it’s killing me.

  I arch and pull him closer. Tyler palms my ass and tucks me up against him, right where he’s hard and long, then wraps his mouth around my nipple, sucking and rolling the tip with his tongue.

  Oh. My. God. He’s gained skills.

  I should be upset about this, because it reminds me he’s been practicing on other women, but you know what? I can’t muster the energy to care. He feels amazing.

  Tyler gives my other breast the same insane attention, his body rocking between my legs, making me crazy. “Tyler, I…” Want more. Now.

  His response to the words I can’t voice is to run his mouth down the center of my stomach, over my panties, where he kisses me there, the naughty boy.

  Some strangled, inarticulate sound escapes my mouth as he moves between my thighs. He spreads my legs and nuzzles the inside of my thigh, pressing soft kisses to extremely sensitive skin.

  “Tyler,” I say, this time more insistent.

  I feel him smile against my leg, and then my panties are sliding off my body. He shucks his boxer briefs, along with my undies, and plants kisses up my leg. I don’t know where he’s going with this, but he better get on with it because all that “expert” attention he’s giving me has me wanting things. Certain things. Inside me. Now.

  Before I know what’s going on, a warm, wet tongue licks up the center of where my mind is expecting other parts of him to be. I gasp.

  He looks up, his eyebrow quirked. “More?”

  I stare at him because, oh my God, what is he doing to me? I’m going to melt into the mattress if he keeps this up. I actually have to wrench my brain back to the question.

  Do I want him licking me there?

  Considering how amazing that felt, um, yes. Please. Do I want him, after all the time we’ve been apart—emotionally, physically—to be inside me, connecting in the most intense way I can imagine? Yes. More so.

  And then back to this other business I’ve heard so much about but have never personally experienced.

  Because the only sex I’ve ever had was that one time with Tyler.

  “I want you…inside me,” I say hesitantly.

  His expression turns serious, as if my words bother him.

  I gulp, panic rising in my chest. He can go back to what he was doing. I just want to feel connected to him.

  Before I can ask what’s wrong, he’s climbing up my body, pressing me into the bed as he reaches for the bookshelf and opens a box. He fumbles around, then tears open a condom and slips it on.

  Tyler settles between my legs and I can feel him there, right where I want him. Only, my body is shaking, and this time it’s from nerves. The last time Tyler and I did this, it didn’t end well. I mean, it felt good. But I wasn’t prepared for the emotions it brought.

  His hands rest on either side of my head, his thumbs lightly brushing the arches of my cheekbones. He stares into my eyes and my worries drain away, because the look on his face is pure tenderness, maybe more. I don’t glance away. I want him to see how much he means to me. That this was never just sex.

  Tyler rocks forward, moving inside me, and I’m all sensation, my head tilting back, arms gripping his shoulders. He feels large, the connection tight, but so good.

  He dips to my neck and kisses a trail to my mouth, his lips moving urgently, the opposite of his body, which is slow and sensual.

  I’m tingling everywhere, an urgency building where we’re connected
. Tyler slips his hand between us, and rubs me in a spot that has me seeing stars.

  I break off our kiss right as something rips through me, tearing me into a million pieces. My head rocks from side to side and I’m moaning. It’s too much, but I don’t want it to end, because I’ve never felt anything like it before.

  Tyler’s pace picks up, and all I can do is hold on, my limbs still tingling from the wave that rocked me off my axis. Holy shit. Orgasms are my new favorite thing, right after Tyler. Well, he’s always been my favorite, but now I want him and orgasms. Because oh my God.

  He’s peppering sweet kisses over my face, down my neck, until his eyes shut tightly and his body tenses, a deep moan escaping his lips.

  I kiss his jaw, his mouth, until he collapses on top of me, his arms holding his body high enough so he doesn’t crush me. He’s heavy, but I love it. I love the feel of him above me, inside me. Close.

  A wide grin spreads across my face as I snuggle into his neck and chest. I missed out on so much the last time we were together, too scared and worried about the feelings he’d evoked that night. But not this time. This time, I want to bask in what we just shared.

  And I can’t wait to do this again. With an orgasm, because that was awesome. I didn’t know what I was missing.

  I’m in a lulled state of happiness when I sense a shift. Tyler’s body hasn’t moved, but something has changed. And then he does move.

  He sits up, his eyes flickering to me, without holding. “You okay?”

  He said those same words after we had sex in high school, except this time, I really am okay.

  “Yeah. You?” I smile, but Tyler’s expression is blank.

  “I’m good, just hungry. Can I get you anything?”

  I sit up, because he rolled off me and I really don’t want him to leave. I pull a sheet to my chest, not hiding the confusion on my face. “Um, okay.”

  “Cool. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

  I nod, but something isn’t right.

  Tyler ties off the condom and puts on his clothes. All his clothes. As if he’s not returning to bed. A fist clenches my chest, but I don’t say anything. I am frozen in fear.

  Please don’t leave.

  He climbs down the loft ladder and I hear him rustling around in the kitchen, opening the fridge, the cupboards. I chew nervously on my thumbnail, listening. After a couple of minutes, he climbs back up and sets a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk by the bed. He remains on the ladder, running a hand through his thick, dark hair.

  “Mira, I’ve gotta go. I made plans. I wasn’t expecting…Anyway, my friend is waiting for me.”

  I look away, sucking in a breath to hold back the well of tears behind my eyes. Why is he doing this? Why?

  “Sorry, I know it’s bad timing. I’ll see you later, though, okay?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t look at him. I won’t tell him it’s okay, when it’s not. And he damn well knows it. I can hear it in his voice.

  I listen to the sound of him climbing down the ladder. The closing of the front door is what sends the choking in my chest to the surface.

  The largest tears I’ve ever shed drop to my cheeks. I curl into a ball on the bed, hiding my face in Tyler’s pillow, smelling him, loving him, and hating him at the same time.

  After all we’ve been through, why would he do this?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tyler

  As soon as Mira and I had sex, the cloud muddling my head these last few months whooshed through my body and out my pores, forcing every emotion I’ve stifled to the forefront, along with my reasons for suppressing them. Why I’m here in Lake Tahoe. Why I quit my community college teaching position and hightailed it out of Colorado.

  Because I’m a fucked-up mess.

  I couldn’t love Anna. I haven’t been able to love anyone.

  Anna deserved more. She was sweet and gentle. I cared about her more than any girl I’d been with these last few years. I thought I’d never love any woman again. That I was incapable. Anna was good for me, and I told myself I could make her happy. It was ludicrous to get engaged, but I needed to move on, even if I hadn’t realized at the time what I was moving on from.

  All those emotions I thought myself incapable of came pouring out this evening with Mira. Love, anger, lust.

  Why did I return to Lake Tahoe? I can’t even remember my reasoning. I have buddies all over the country from my years at university. I could have stayed with any one of them, but I came home. To a place that isn’t even my home, now that my mom has moved to Carson City.

  It’s frightening to imagine I subconsciously returned for Mira. And yet, when we made love—’cause there’s no other way to describe what happened—and these last few weeks…the tension between us…fuck.

  I came for her.

  I didn’t want to think about the reasons we shouldn’t get involved. I convinced myself we could have sex and it wouldn’t matter, but it was bullshit. My feelings for Mira are wholly different from anything I’ve had with anyone else. The pain and wrongness of leaving her is killing me. I want to crawl back and beg her to forgive me for being such a dick, but there’s a reason I freaked out and ran.

  After Anna, I’m not worthy of any woman.

  I came to Tahoe thinking Mira was the one who needed to change. But Mira is trying to save her mom, she’s giving her best friend space to be with the girl he loves, though it kills her, and she’s staying away from the Sallees to protect them from the trouble she’s in. Mira is the altruist. She is everything I thought she was when I first got to know her, and nothing I believed of her when I ran from this town six years ago.

  I blink at the house in front of me. I’ve managed to drive to Phil’s on autopilot. I shot him a text as soon as I left Mira, but I haven’t checked to see if he received it. I considered going to Jaeg’s, but Cali is there. She’ll skewer my ass for walking out on Mira; Cali’s very protective of her fellow women. At the moment, I don’t blame her.

  I step out of the car and knock on Phil’s front door, scrubbing a hand down my face.

  Phil answers, takes one look at me, and opens the door wide, letting me in. “That bad, huh?”

  Phil’s live-in girlfriend, I discover, is out on a girls’ night. It’s just us, and instead of our usual beers, he tries to give me a shot of tequila.

  I shake my head. “No, man.”

  “Dude, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you like this.”

  I clasp my hands between my knees, legs spread wide on the couch across from him. “You remember that girl I told you about before I left town?”

  Phil takes his shot and sits on the small couch next to me. “Yeah, you said she dumped you, but you didn’t have a girlfriend in high school, so that made no sense. And you wouldn’t tell me who she was.”

  “I’m living with her.” I stare at Phil, waiting for recognition.

  He sits forward. “This Mira chick is the one who fucked you up?”

  I nod, framing my forehead with the tips of my fingers.

  “I thought you decided to get her out of your place?”

  “It’s not my place, but yeah, I tried. It didn’t work. I—we…”

  After a long pause, Phil says, “You screwed her?”

  I raise my head. “Dude, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

  Phil holds up his hands. “Whoa, she’s your girlfriend now? What are you doing, man?”

  My head falls back into my hands. “I don’t know, but I think I just ruined everything.”

  Phil proceeds to tell me to forget about Mira. To get her out of my system. Hook up with someone else. I tried all that after I left Tahoe the first time. It didn’t work. And honestly, I don’t have the energy to fight this anymore. I’m not sure I deserve Mira, but I’m tired of walking away from her.

  I stand abruptly. “I gotta go.”

  Phil stands too. “What? You can’t go back. She’ll ruin you. Look at what she’s already done.” I glare a
t him, and his face eases. “She means that much?”

  I sigh as the heavy pressure in my chest escapes. “Yeah.”

  We argue, she’s feisty, but Mira and I are connected in a way I’ve never been with anyone else. I see her, and I’m amazed by the person she is.

  She means everything. I don’t know how I could have been such a blind ass that I didn’t realize it.

  Mira

  I live with the fear of people leaving me. My mom’s abandonment when I was three had that effect. Yet when Tyler left me naked—emotionally, physically—there is no description for the hollow pain in my chest, or for how utterly pissed I am.

  After I uncurled from the fetal position on his bed and gathered my clothes, I hobbled my way down the ladder to my bedroom, where I dressed and packed an overnight bag. I can’t live with Tyler. We just end up hurting each other.

  I pull up to Lewis’s place a half hour later, and Gen’s car is in the driveway beside Lewis’s truck. The lights are on inside the house. I hate the idea of intruding on them, but I need a place to crash. And I’d actually like to talk to Gen. It’s why I came here instead of Zach’s.

  Lewis and Zach would totally freak out and try to crack skulls if they knew some guy hurt me. I’m angry at Tyler, but I’m pretty partial to his brain remaining intact.

  I need Gen’s help. She may be pretty, but she is tough. She once told Lewis, who’s never had to work at holding on to a girl, to shape up or she wouldn’t be with him. She’ll know what to do about Tyler. Because walking away from him goes against every fiber of my being clamoring to remain close.

  But I can’t. Not after what he just did.

  I walk up the steps to Lewis’s small A-frame house, and peer into the broad front windows. He and Gen are sitting on the couch watching television, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He leans over and whispers something that puts a smile on her face.