by Ruby Rowe
“Mine’s huge, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I bet he has something else huge I wouldn’t mind, but he’s already stuck that member in Angie and Sabrina a time or two … or three. Who knows?
“Your TV’s fine.”
“What do you watch on Saturday nights?”
“I usually binge shows on Netflix.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “I get it. You’re a Netflix and chill kind of girl. The kind who only gets freaky in the privacy of her own home.”
“Hardly,” I mumble as I sit down on the couch and take a drink of the beer he left for me on the side table. “I haven’t dated in a couple of years.”
“That’s not what I meant by that statement.”
“OK, I haven’t hooked up with anyone in a couple of years.”
“So, it’s Netflix and chill alone? How sad.”
“I know. I’m sad and pathetic. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can I enjoy my pizza?”
“I didn’t say you were either of those things. I was only saying the fact you spend so much time alone is sad.”
I shrug. “I have my friend Chloe, but she spends her weekends hunting men, hence why I watch Netflix alone on Saturday nights.”
“Understood.”
“I’m between shows, so if there’s something you want to watch, help yourself. I’ll probably fall asleep, anyway.”
“It’s too damn early for you to crash. I like documentaries. Want to watch one with me?”
My eyebrows lift. “You watch documentaries?”
“Yeah. My dick’s not the only thing I like to stimulate.” His lazy grin returns, and I blush.
“OK, pick one.” While he pulls up Netflix, I grab a slice of pizza off my paper plate and take a bite. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised by having him as a roommate.
If he can occasionally keep me company but get his freak on elsewhere, this could work to my benefit. I guess time will tell.
Jason
Laurel wraps her arms tighter around her body like she’s cold, so I reach across the couch and grab the blanket draped over the back of it to cover her up.
I pulled a fast one halfway through the documentary The White Helmets. I asked Laurel if she had any popcorn, and once I made it, I poured it into one bowl, which meant I had to sit next to her on the couch to share it.
She eyed me suspiciously for a few seconds, but then she made room for me and relaxed. Yeah, I’m like a damn teenage boy.
Now, she’s asleep, and I’ve been distracted by the ability to get a closer look at her. She’s fucking gorgeous, and I can’t understand how she doesn’t see it.
Her insecure mannerisms and modesty give it away. When others are present, it’s as if Laurel wishes she was a turtle and could retreat inside her shell.
She fidgets with her hair like she’s ashamed of it and often turns her face away, not grasping how enjoyable it is for others to stare at her.
The only reason Dan the Douche isn’t dating her is because he’s probably realized Laurel’s not going to put out unless she’s in a committed relationship.
At least, I suspect that’s how she feels and is the reason why the grunge singer is behaving like an idiot. I guess I have no room to judge him, though.
It’s taken me over three years to trust that I could treat Laurel right. I’ve mostly admired the sexy librarian from afar while wishing I could be a better guy and date her.
Seeing Colton treat my sister golden is one of the reasons I’m ready to give it a shot. He was able to stop playing the field, so maybe there’s hope for me yet.
I want to be with someone I can have intelligent conversations with. I’m sick of sleeping around, trying to fill a void I’ve had for years.
It never works. I always find myself back in that miserable place, recalling how awful I treated a girl I liked in high school.
I fell hard and fast for Kayla Gentry, even taking her virginity, but she was considered a nerd, and my friends rode me about it until I dumped her.
I’ll never forgive myself for what happened to her afterward, but Colton forced me to talk about it over the summer. That’s when I realized I needed to put the past behind me and try to have a relationship again.
I want to do it right this time … with Laurel. That’s the reason I went to the library last Friday night to talk to her, but I panicked and was an asshole.
Once she reacted coldly, I started doubting myself and fell right back into my old ways. That’s why she found me partaking in a threesome the very next day.
Yeah, it was physically enjoyable, but it meant nothing more to me, and now I’m worried Laurel won’t see past it.
I might’ve fucked this up before it even began. Exhaling a frustrated breath, I graze my knuckles along her cheek.
Her phone starts vibrating on the table with a call, so I grab it to silence it, and I can’t help but read what’s on the screen.
Damn, the contact name is the Atlanta Department of Corrections. Who’s calling her from there? Maybe this explains her often grumpy disposition.
Setting her phone down, I tuck the blanket around her tighter, but she turns her body toward me. I’m even more surprised when she wraps her arms around my waist and presses her head against my chest.
“It was the jail, right?” she asks softly.
I tense up. Shit. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to wake you.”
“That was my father. Every weekend he calls to grovel, but I don’t answer it.”
“Can I ask what landed him in there?”
“Something that ruined my family and future.” She brings her hand up to my chest and presses it against my pounding heart. “We shouldn’t be this close, you and me, but it’s nice.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not cut out for casual sex and definitely not threesomes.”
Unable to resist, I press my lips to her warm curls.
“I wouldn’t use or share you, Laurel. You deserve better than that, and don’t think for a second I don’t know it.”
Lifting her head, she stares into my eyes. Her hands squeeze the waist of my t-shirt as she sweeps her tongue over her bottom lip just enough for me to know what she wants.
This is happening sooner than I expected, and I’m worried one wrong move could fuck it up. Slowly lowering my head, I press my lips against hers and leave them there. I need one fucking taste.
And that’s what it is...
One. Remarkable. Taste.
Reluctantly, I pull my mouth away, and she stares up at me with longing. Damn, I want to kiss her again. I need more.
In only seconds, Laurel’s eyes grow round, and she bolts off the couch, wrapping the blanket around her body, wishing to be a turtle again.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I mean, I guess I wasn’t thinking. I was feeling, and I can’t afford to do that.
“You’re my roommate, and I need a roommate to afford this place. You moved in only hours ago, and I’m…” She rubs her forehead, finally stopping for a breath. “Oh, my god, you’re nice to me for five seconds, and I’m crawling in your lap, all needy and shit. I’m so sorry.”
She darts from the room, the blanket blowing in the wind behind her, and I managed to fuck this up without even trying.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Laurel
Hearing the front door slam, I peek out of my bedroom.
“I think he left,” I whisper to Chloe in the phone.
“Girl, that’s your damn apartment. Stop being a chicken and go look.”
I groan. “Fine, but stay on the phone with me.” I leave my bedroom, and once I see that Jason’s door is shut, I pad to the empty kitchen and on to the quiet living room.
“He’s gone. He told me his friend was picking him up this morning to get his car. Finally, I can eat something.”
“Silly, you can’t be hiding out in your room all day.”
“I know, but I’m so embarr
assed, and now it’s going to be awkward. I can’t believe I let my guard down, but I’d had the best time with him.
“His body was warm, and he smelled so good, and once I saw him looking at my phone, I felt this need to tell him about my past. It’s hard only having you to talk to.”
“I’m here for you anytime.”
“I know, but I think I should get another opinion as to whether I’m doing the right thing, shutting my dad out of my life like this.”
“You damn well know what I think about it.”
“Exactly, but you’re protective of me. Someone who isn’t so close might have a different perspective. One that’s not biased.”
“True.”
“Anyway, I was vulnerable and got caught up in the moment.”
“Or, maybe you realized he really was into you, like I said, and you were feeling it, too.”
“But I can’t feel it. He’s now my roommate. Do you know how disastrous the fallout would be?”
“Maybe there wouldn’t be an end to it.”
“He’s pre-med, Chloe. After what my father did, I can’t end up with a doctor. Hell, Jason would probably never look at me the same if he knew who my dad was, and I bet he would know since he’s going into medicine.”
“Laurel, you need to be more like me, and give it to him straight. Honesty, girl. Tell him upfront about your dad. It’s not like you can’t bring it up; he saw the text and knows there’s more to it.”
Plopping down on the couch, I mess with my tangled hair.
“No. I’m going to be professional from here on out.”
Chloe giggles. “Professional?”
“You know what I mean. Friendly. That’s it. No cuddling and eating popcorn while watching documentaries. No sexual innuendoes or succumbing to his panty-melting smiles.”
“Hey, if a guy could see past my tits, I’d be all for it.”
“Since when? You never talk to guys like that when we’re out.”
“Smart, kind and interesting men don’t approach me at bars. Only cocky guys and douchebags.”
“You’re hanging out at the wrong places. That’s the problem.”
“Yeah, maybe, but let’s get back to your situation.”
“I don’t have a situation since from here on out, I have a male roommate who I hardly know or see.”
“Right … that’s totally going to work.” She giggles again.
“Stop it. I hate to let you go, but I need to get back to my schoolwork. I have a poem to write for my peer review assignment. Talk about cocky guys and douchebags … my partner is both.”
“OK, we’ll talk later, chickadee, but you need to consider what I said. Just because you date your roommate doesn’t mean it’ll blow up in your face.”
Jason
“Fuck, this is totally going to blow up in your face and fast. What were you thinking? I didn’t know I was moving you in with a girl you’re attracted to,” Colton says.
“Damn, dude. I thought you’d make fun of me, not seem pissed.” I throw the basketball straight at his chest, and he catches it, but not before it makes contact, causing him to cough.
He moves closer to me in the indoor gym on campus, probably so I can hear him better in the noisy facility.
“I guess I don’t understand. After you rejected Sabrina and Angie yesterday, who were practically dry humping you, you said you weren’t going to scheme on chicks any longer, yet you moved in with one just to break her after she played hard to get.”
I glare at him. “I’m sick of you treating me like I’m some piece of shit who only preys on chicks. Before you got with Summer, you treated women no differently. And I didn’t move in with Laurel to use her for sex.”
Snapping the ball back at me, he wipes the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.
“I’m sorry, but I hardly believe you did it so you two could live happily ever after. Tell me why you moved in with her then.”
I run to do a layup and listen for the swooshing sound as I make the basket. After dribbling a couple of times, I hold the ball at my waist and look at him.
“I’ve liked her for a long time now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Look, I didn’t plan to move in with her, but when the opportunity presented itself, I jumped at the chance.
“Laurel doesn’t take me seriously, so living together is the ideal way for us to get to know each other and for her to get to know the real me.
“Well, I thought that until we kissed last night. She freaked out after, confusing the hell out of me.”
“Holy shit. You want to live with her. Like live with this woman. The way people do when they’re in committed relationships.”
Furrowing my brow, I throw him the basketball, hoping like hell he’ll play and drop this conversation I was stupid enough to start. Instead, he stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Are you saying you only plan to live with her long enough to get her to date you, and then you’re moving out?”
“No. I mean, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
He looks to the sky and laughs.
“I can’t fucking believe it. Finally, but it figures you’d go balls to the wall. You’ve never been patient, and you always think you can take whatever you want.”
“That’s bullshit seeing how I’ve been patient a long damn time with this girl.”
“How long are we talking here?”
“That’s not important.”
“Well, good luck, bro. I think asking her out on a date would’ve sufficed, but I’ll pray it works out for ya. Hell, Summer and I aren’t ready to live together, and I worship the girl.”
“Maybe it wasn’t the brightest decision, but things are different with Laurel. I can see myself in a relationship with her.”
“Yeah, and obviously living with her.”
“I told you because I don’t know what to do after last night.”
“What happened again exactly?”
“All I did was kiss her, and she wanted it. Girls don’t look at me like that unless they do, but then she bolted from the room, acting like it was a mistake.”
“I imagine your sister would have better advice than me, but if you don’t want to talk to Summer about it, then I’d tell Laurel you like her and that you won’t screw around if she’ll give you a chance.”
I consider what he said, but I don’t see Laurel caving that easily.
“I don’t think it will be that simple. She’s the one who walked in on my threesome with Angie and Sabrina.” I look away. Shit, why did I tell him that?
“Oh, dude. Yeah, you’re probably fucked. Unless a girl’s willing to participate in a threesome, she’s usually not a fan of guys who do.”
“Did. I don’t plan on it happening ever again.”
“Damn, man. Tell her that, too. It might help.”
“I’ll think about it, but enough with the deep shit. Let’s play some ball.”
CHAPTER NINE
Laurel
Dear KeepingItReal69,
You’re no longer ahead of me. Below you’ll find my latest poem.
Why Our Pie?
Why did you have to ruin pie?
The bites were always warm, tart and sugary.
Why did you have to ruin pie?
The moments were joyful, safe and only ours to share.
Why did you have to ruin pie?
The memories were priceless, revealing and revered.
I’ll forever hate you for scorching the memories and ruining pie.
Sincerely,
ElizabethBennetThe2nd
I hit send on my email and return to doing homework. Hearing the front door shut, I freeze and listen for Jason.
Footsteps … and I believe he just stopped at my door. For some reason, I hold my breath. I don’t want him to know I’m home, or maybe I do, and I’m hoping he’s going to come in and say something that
smothers the awkwardness and shame I feel.
Instead, I hear his footsteps again, the bathroom door shut and the shower come on. Sighing, I pop my headphones in and turn up the volume.
Please let this loud song drown out the noise of the water running, which only reminds me of the gorgeous, naked man across the hall.
***
Rubbing my eyes, I snap my textbook shut and pick up my laptop. I’m getting sleepy and hungry, but before taking a break, I decide to check my email to see if I’ve heard back from Poetry Boy.
Dear ElizabethBennetThe2nd,
Wow. I hate to kill the good thing we finally had going between us, but I have to speak my mind. You must’ve missed the class lecture on sentimentality.
You’re making this poem about YOU, which can turn the reader off. Why didn’t you tell me about pie or about the person who made you bitter?
I imagine I would’ve enjoyed the descriptiveness of pie. Hell, just thinking about it leaves my mouth watering.
If you had described its amazing qualities, I might’ve ran out to buy one. Instead, you were once again vague, yet you managed to make it clearly known that you’re disgruntled over someone ruining your enjoyment of the hot, luscious dessert.
Is this about an old boyfriend? Best friend? Maybe mommy or daddy issues? If that’s the case, write about THAT with transparency rather than only giving me a taste of pie.
Refer to my email about the snake (same issue). I’m not meaning for this to sound cruel. I’m not insulting your ability here, only your behavior. Give me honesty next time.
Sincerely,
KeepingItReal69
No. He. Didn’t. What a jerk!
Slamming my laptop shut, I march out of my room and into the kitchen to splurge on my hidden pint of Death by Chocolate ice cream.
While KeepingItReal69 drools over the thoughts of pie, I’ll eat ice cream he can’t enjoy at the moment.
I’m being childish. I know it, but I’m going to wallow in the annoyance of how right he was for a good fifteen minutes.
