The Roommate Equation

by Jillian Quinn

  “We’ll find something,” I promise.

  “I hope so.” Ash leans back against the cushion and kicks her feet up on the coffee table.

  Don’t say anything.

  I turn my head away from her feet on my table and act like a normal person.

  “Do you want me to read the entire script?”

  She shakes her head. “You’ll know within the first few pages if it’s good.”

  I glance down at the first page, already bored from the start. After scanning a few more pages, I drop it onto the table and pick out a new one.

  Ash’s eyes lift from the page to meet mine. “What are you doing?”

  “That one sucked.”

  “How could you possibly know that? You read like two words of it.”

  “I have an eidetic memory.”

  “Ahh,” she groans. “I forgot about your freaky nerd superpowers. We’ll be done these in no time.”

  We read in silence for a few minutes, and I can feel Ash staring at me. I’m usually the one watching her.

  “What?” I ask without meaning to sound as rude as I do.

  “You look so intense when you read.”

  I lift my head, and our eyes meet. “Shouldn’t you be reading?”

  “I need a drink,” she says.

  Let me guess. She wants me to get it for her.

  I drop the script onto the couch and push myself up, staring down at Ash. “What do you want?”

  She presses her red lips together, and I get the urge to taste her. I bet she smells like cherries.

  “Stoli and cranberry juice.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “You’re a lightweight. How do you expect to get through the box if you’re wasted?”

  She rolls her shoulders, giving me the most adorable pouty look. “I’m good at delegating.”

  I shake my head, almost impressed by her sneakiness. “You think I’m going to do your job for you?”

  She curls up against the cushion and tips her head toward the kitchen. “That drink won’t make itself.”

  Ash drives me so crazy that I act without thinking through my next move. I drop my knee between her spread thighs and lean forward, caging her body against the couch with mine. Her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. She drags her teeth along her lip, peeking up at me with her lips parted.

  Ash doesn’t stop me when I push her back against the couch. Instead of telling me to fuck off, she spreads her legs wider. She wants this as much as I do. But what am I doing? Sloan could check the security camera, and then I would have to tell him the truth.

  Slipping my fingers through her hair, I crush her lips with a kiss that sucks the air from my lungs. Ash hooks her legs around my back, squeezing her thighs so tightly I wish she never had to let go. Because being this close to Ash only makes me want to keep her.

  I wish I could go back to the day I chased her away and start over. Ash might allow me to have her body one more time, but her heart isn’t up for grabs. So, how do I go about this? How do I keep her this time?

  A door slams in the distance, snapping me back to reality. Sloan said he would be out all night, but I’m not taking any chances. I peel my lips from Ash’s and sit on the cushion next to her, slightly out of breath.

  Ash opens her mouth to speak, and then the front door flies open.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ash

  After that hot kiss with Dylan, I needed a long shower. We lucked out that Sloan brought a date home from the party. Otherwise, he would have questioned us to death, considering the state of the living room that was a mess from our little make-out session.

  I turn off the water and wrap myself in a fluffy towel that smells like Dylan’s laundry detergent. His scent invades my nostrils, and I can’t help but take a few more whiffs. It’s like being enveloped by Dylan and his warmth but without his strong arms closing around me.

  Dismissing the thought from my mind, I wipe the fog from the mirror with my hand. The dark circles beneath my eyes could use a few coats of concealer to hide them. Even my skin looks paler than usual. I rub some moisturizer into my cheeks, making slow circular movements, before lathering my arms and legs with the vanilla-scented lotion.

  My cell phone dings with a new text message. I fling open the bathroom door to retrieve my phone from the bed. It’s Willow. I drop my towel on the floor, slide into a terry cloth bath wrap, and then read her message.

  Willow: Lunch on Friday? I’m in the mood for Mexican.

  I send her a picture of me eating an overflowing burrito, making a funny face as I bite into it. Rice is on my lip, and salsa runs down to my chin. Dylan said all of the noises I made during our quick lunch date were distracting him.

  Willow: BIG NEWS! I have sooo much to tell you.

  Ash: You ran into Leonardo DiCaprio and are now preggers with his lovechild?

  Willow sends two rows of laughing and crying emojis in response. Then, a few seconds later…

  Willow: No. Chris Hemsworth.

  Now, I’m the one sending dozens of emojis.

  Ash: What’s the news?

  Willow: Burke is taking me with him to New York. My first legit agent gig.

  Ash: You go girl! Maybe one day you can rep me…

  Willow: For sure. :)

  Willow: So, Dylan… What’s up with him? You guys went on a date this week.

  I wander into the hallway, laughing as I type out another text to Willow.

  Ash: Definitely not. It was just lunch. Dylan helped me run some errands for Vinnie. We went to Nico Chase’s house.

  Willow: OMG, I am so jelly right now. I LOVE Nico Chase like a fat kid loves cake.

  Ash: This fat kid loves her burritos.

  Willow: LOL And P.S. You’re not fat. Men love big boobs and big asses. Share the wealth, babe.

  I shake my head, a grin stretching the corners of my mouth. Willow is the typical California girl, tallish with a slim figure, pretty hair, and a beautiful face.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Dylan’s voice snaps me back to reality.

  Why does he keep obsessing over my clothes?

  Probably because he wants to take them off me.

  He’s in the living room, lounging on the sectional couch.

  I enter the kitchen and open the refrigerator. “I’m wearing a robe,” I say with the same attitude Dylan gave me. “Do you have a problem with it?”

  He hops off the couch, closing the distance between us within seconds. Dylan presses his palm to the counter, studying me with those intense blue irises that make my heart flutter. There’s something truly beautiful about him, from his long dark eyelashes that women would kill for to the strength in his nose and jaw.

  His eyes roam over my body. Then, he fingers the thin strap of my wrap, lifting it off my shoulder with a devious look. “This isn’t a robe. You’re practically naked.”

  I give him a cocky grin. “It’s your wild imagination getting the best of you.”

  Dylan groans when I bend over to grab a bottle of water from the shelf in the fridge. Another text dings and I chuckle when I read Willow’s response.

  Willow: I’d totally tap that ass if I were a dude.

  “What’s so funny?” Dylan asks, invading my personal space.

  “My friend. Willow. You met her before.”

  “Yeah, once or twice.”

  “She said she’d totally tap my ass if she were a man.”

  Dylan smirks. “At least she has good taste.”

  “Don’t let Sloan hear you say that.”

  I set my phone on the counter and twist the top on the bottle. Around Dylan, my head is foggy, making it impossible for me to think straight. I drink half of the bottle, and then my phone dings again.

  “I need to get my beauty sleep,” I say to Dylan and then walk out of the kitchen.

  “Night,” Dylan says under his breath.

  When my alarm clock sounds the next morning, I want to throw my phone across the room to make it st
op. I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn now that I live in Malibu. The sun has yet to rise, which makes it harder to get motivated when it’s still dark outside.

  I flick on the lamp on my bedside table and shut off the alarm. Clearing the sleep from my eyes, I blink a few times and slide out of bed. In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face, now feeling less like a zombie. My toothbrush is on the sink next to the soap dish, but where is my toothpaste? I check every drawer and the medicine cabinet before I give up my search.

  Half-awake, I grab my toothbrush and head into the hallway and unconsciously walk toward Dylan’s bedroom. Stopping in front of his closed door, I consider forgetting this stupid idea. But I’m already here. He definitely has toothpaste. A control-freak like Dylan never runs out of anything.

  I knock on his door.

  No answer.

  Again, I ball my hand into a fist and slam it against the wood. Still no answer. If Dylan is still sleeping, we won’t leave for work on time.

  I turn the knob, and the door creeks open.

  “Dylan,” I say in a hushed tone.

  No answer again.

  Screw it. Either way, Dylan needs to get his ass out of bed, and I need to brush my teeth.

  Two birds. One stone.

  “I’m coming in,” I announce.

  I push the door open, surprised when I find Dylan’s bed made. Did he sleep here last night? Every inch of his room is clean and organized down to the positioning of the remotes on his nightstand. He’s such a weirdo. I have never known anyone who needs order like Dylan.

  I open the bathroom door and take a step back when a cloud of steam smacks me in the face.

  Dylan is here. Shit.

  He’s standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dylan was always lean muscle, but now his stomach has peaks and valleys that make me want to run my fingers across his skin.

  “Ash?” Dylan cocks his head at me. “What are you doing?”

  Water drips from his curly brown hair and trickles down his cheek. His thick chest and muscular arms are still damp, and my eyes fall to the little bit of hair that dips beneath his towel.

  “See something you like?” His deep voice pulls me from my sex-induced haze.

  “Umm…”

  Where is my voice when I need it?

  My head is foggy, like this bathroom. I need to get away from him… or say something that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot.

  Dylan flashes one of his panty-dropper grins even I’m not immune to after all these years. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “No. I can’t find my toothpaste,” I manage to choke out. “Can I borrow some of yours?”

  “You can’t borrow toothpaste because that would imply you’re giving it back. Unless you plan on letting me stick my tongue in your mouth to retrieve it.”

  I stare at him in horror.

  Dylan laughs and then nods at the toothpaste sitting between the double sinks. “Go for it.”

  I nudge Dylan with my hip, even though there’s plenty of room for both of us. The intensity in his eyes pricks my skin with tiny bumps.

  We brush our teeth, staring at each other in the mirror. Electricity pulses between us and sets fire to my skin. I spit and rinse. He does the same and then places his toothbrush in the cabinet.

  Dylan spins me around to face him and grips my hips, pushing my backside into the sink. “You came into my bathroom while I was in the shower. Don’t pretend you’re some naïve girl and walked in on me on accident.”

  “It was an accident,” I spit out. “When I saw your bed was made, I didn’t think you were home.”

  “I make it as soon as I wake up.” He leans closer, invading my personal space. “It teaches you discipline. You should try it sometime. Then, you won’t have to worry about running out of toothpaste.”

  He slides his hand up my side and cups the bottom of my breast. “Do you remember how good it felt when I bit your nipples?” His tone is sexy but taunting. “Tugged them so hard you cried out for me to make you come.”

  I moan in response.

  He made me feel so good.

  A high I never wanted to end.

  A drug I could not kick.

  He looks as wild as I do, driven by our intense need for each other. I miss him, but after our epic breakup, I made a promise to myself.

  No more mistakes with Dylan.

  No more anything with Dylan.

  His lips hover over my neck, and I moan when the heat from his breath warms my skin. Damn, why does it have to feel this good to be touched by Dylan? And why do I want it so much?

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  Annoyed and beyond sexually frustrated, I step out of his grip, accidentally running my fingers along his stomach. His towel loosens and before I have time to prepare, it falls to the floor. Until now, I’d forgotten how much I love the sight of him naked. I mean, seriously, wow.

  I cough to cover the soft moan that escapes my lips and turn away from him, now facing the open door. We need some space. If I don’t get out of this bathroom right now, I might explode.

  Dylan moves behind me and breathes against my ear. I expect him to make another dirty gesture. Instead, he places my toothbrush in my hand.

  “You forgot this. Be ready in thirty minutes, or I’m leaving without you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ash

  Willow flips hair over her shoulder and peels back the foil on her burrito. She sinks her teeth into the tortilla, chomping loudly in my ear.

  “What are you going to do about Dylan?”

  I roll my shoulders. “Nothing, I guess. I don’t know. Our living situation is complicated.”

  She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and giggles. “I bet he’s making it hard for you.”

  I snort with laughter and almost choke on the rice in my mouth. “You have no idea. I saw him naked this morning.”

  She gasps. “Shut. Up.”

  I explain how I entered the bathroom in search of toothpaste and got a view that still has me thinking about how good Dylan looks naked.

  “I’m so jelly,” she whines. “I wish I was living with all that man candy.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Didn’t you say Dylan’s amazing in bed?”

  I nod. “He’s a selfish asshole, but he gets off on how many orgasms he can give in one night.”

  “Men,” she groans with laughter in her tone. “You could use him for sex if that’s what you want from him.”

  I told Willow about Dylan and his impressive skills one day when we were swapping stories about our exes. Dylan, to this day, is still the best I have ever had. From what I have gathered from other women, your first time isn’t usually that memorable. But for me, Dylan was everything. I couldn’t forget him if I tried.

  “I can’t go down that road again,” I admit with a sigh. “I never should’ve dated Dylan. It was a mistake. I hated lying to my brother. We both did.”

  “What if your brother didn’t care?”

  I consider her question and then burst into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, right. Sloan would control every aspect of my life if he could.”

  “Dylan is his best friend. He’s already like family. Why would Sloan care if you dated Dylan?”

  “Because years ago, when Sloan caught Dylan looking at me, they got into a huge fight and didn’t speak to each other for days.”

  “I don’t get it.” She stuffs the last bite of her burrito into her mouth and mumbles, “You would think Sloan would want you to date someone he already trusts instead of some random dude.”

  “You don’t know Sloan the way I do. If he had it his way, I would be a nun and living in a convent.”

  She giggles and then leans closer, her voice a whisper. “On a serious note, when was the last time you had sex?”

  “Umm…” I hold up both hands, running out of fingers as I tick off the number of months since my last boyfriend. “A while ago.”

  She rol
ls her eyes. “Girl, be honest with me.”

  “Fourteen months.”

  “For real, girl, you could use a little bit of Dylan in you. You better jump on his dick the next time you see him.”

  I laugh at her stupidity, hoping no one in the restaurant overheard her. “I’ve lived without him for years.”

  “I bet you won’t last another week without hopping into bed with him.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Wanna bet?”

  She flashes a crooked smile and then winks. “Good luck with that.”

  “How about a different bet?”

  I cock my head to the side. “What do you have in mind?”

  She sips her soda from the straw, staring at me across the table. “Have sex with Dylan, because we both know you need it. But, I bet you can’t have sex with Dylan without catching feelings for him.”

  I laugh. “You’re so wrong.”

  “So, then what’s the problem? It sounds like he’s still attracted to you. And you definitely want to jump his sexy bod. Use him to blow the dust off your lady parts.”

  Digging my teeth into my bottom lip, I glance out the window that overlooks the busy street. “It’s a bad idea. We have too much history.”

  “Well, what happened between you guys that was such a deal breaker?”

  To this day, no one knows the truth about what happened between Dylan and me. He only knows what I could handle at time. Not like it mattered. Dylan was content on moving across the country to start his company with Sloan. And I was left behind to pick up the pieces of my life.