Roommates

by Erin Leigh

  “It’s super nice. My parents don't even have an island in their kitchen.”

  That doesn't seem like it would be true, but she’s got the most earnest face I’ve ever seen. She’s like angelic or some shit. I think she could have told me anything and I would have nodded. That's about the most dangerous sort of female there is. Wholesome. That's the word I’m looking for. She’s wholesome. Wholesome head case, that's a new one for me.

  “So you don't come from money?” I can’t help but ask.

  “No, God no. My parents are—normal.” She blushes and lowers her gaze to the counter in front of her, tracing her perfect manicure over the design.

  “How the hell do you know Sami?” Because that doesn't even make sense. She’s the richest girl I’ve ever met.

  “My mom is a teacher at the Greenwich Academy for girls. I went to school there with Sami.”

  “Private school? Doesn't that cost a fortune?”

  Her lips curl up, but she doesn't meet my eyes when she says, “Not for kids of faculty.” She lifts her head after saying it, forcing herself to be proud. I know this face. “My mom worked there so I could go to school there.”

  “Smart lady. I went to college on a scholarship. If it wasn't for hockey I never would have gone.” That's as far as I want to go into that. I don't even know why I told her that.

  But she’s normal so she doesn't hover there. She adds something to make me feel better like I did for her. “My parents had enough for me to go to normal college, not Ivy League, so I went to Sacred Heart. But I had to live at home the whole time.”

  Sacred Heart. Church girl.

  Her words catch up in my head. “You just left home now?” Holy shit. She’s a hot virgin? Yikes.

  Her cheeks flush with color. “Yeah.” She rolls those bright eyes like it’s silly. “I’m an only child so they sort of stalk me. Overprotective is like a major understatement.”

  “Yikes. I’ve lived away from home off and on since I was fourteen.”

  “Oh my God, that's terrible. Were you in the circus?” she asks with a laugh.

  I laugh with her. “No, I was billeted so I could play hockey in the towns with the better teams. I needed to ensure I was where the action was.” I have the sauce boiling and the water ready to boil by the time we have gotten to know each other a little better. “So, how close are you to Sami?”

  “She’s my best friend in the whole world.” She gets this look in her eyes like she’s talking about someone she loves more than anything.

  “So why would she set us up and tell you I’m a girl and get Matt to tell me you’re a guy?” It’s the question of the hour.

  Her shoulders come up. “I can’t even guess. I mean, she clearly knows you so there was no mistake. Why lie?”

  “It’s weird.” I don't know what to say so I leave it at that. There’s got to be something of a story behind this; I just can’t imagine what.

  I plate the food and hand her the Asiago cheese to sprinkle over top. She eats at the bar so I sit next to her. “This looks amazing. Rao’s? That sounds familiar.” She leans forward and takes a bite, closing her eyes and moaning a little bit.

  “It’s an awesome place to eat in East Harlem. Hard to get a table, but you can buy the sauces now. I only ate there twice and both times it was with Matt.”

  She sucks in the noodles, nodding. “This is so good. I’ve never had jarred sauce this good before.” She wipes her face, completely missing the red dots on her cheeks.

  A smile cracks my face and the tension in me disappears from listening to her moan.

  “What? Did I miss the sauce?”

  I lift my napkin, wiping her cheeks as softly as I can. She winces so I assume I wasn't so soft. Her eyes sparkle when she smiles. “Lucky you can cook, BJ. Or it would have been takeout every night.”

  I’m sure my eyes don't sparkle at all when she calls me that. “Brady.”

  Her blue eyes widen. “Right. Sorry. You sign all your emails B. I assumed it was like Gossip Girl or something.” I have no idea what she’s talking about but she stares longer than she should. It makes me want to kiss her, but my brain overrules my dick with the soft whisper of churchy head-case virgin and a roommate. Sleeping with one’s roommate makes insta-wife. And no one wants that.

  “I was really expecting you to be a butchy chick from Rhode Island named BJ who played lacrosse or something. Maybe basketball.”

  That makes me laugh again as I turn back to my food. “Hope you aren’t disappointed.”

  “No.” She shrugs and goes back to eating. “Not yet. I never imagined girls and guys could live together but—yeah. I’m not disappointed. I guess as long as we both do our thing it shouldn't matter, right?” I don't think she’s telling the truth but at least she’s trying.

  “We’ll be fine.” It’s the truth.

  Chapter Five

  Naughty by nature

  Brady

  The physical is the most invasive but least painful part of my day. I offer the nurse a look as she checks my pulse after the speed skate. “I recover fast, very fast.” I wink as she bites her lip, blushing and swallowing hard. All three are the signs that I need to continue, “If you want, after you’re done checking us all out, I can give you a demonstration.” I slide my thumb lazily up her arm.

  She tightens, her breath hitching. She pulls back, shaking her head and flashing an engagement ring. “I’m not single.”

  “I don't care. No one has to know.” I take advantage of the curtain around us and swoop my arms around her. She’s into me. I’m into those scrubs and the fact she wore lipstick to check out a hockey team. PFs come in all shapes and sizes, all professions and lifestyles. A hot nurse doesn’t wear lipstick to a health check of a hockey team unless she wants some action.

  She doesn't fight me on it. She rests her hands on my chest, like she might push off, but she doesn't. She digs into my pecs. She’s going to rip the shit outta my skin if I let her.

  I slide a hand down the front of her, creeping my fingers into the waistline of her scrubs and underwear. She gasps when I reach her completely shaven pussy. Circling my fingers slowly on the outside, brushing against the heat coming off her gets me hard. Her fingers grip in, digging the nails into my chest as her breath leaves her glossy lips in bursts.

  Slipping one finger between her lips, I run it down her slit, grinning when I find her completely soaked. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.” I lean forward and whisper, “Right after I finish this.” I pull my finger from her scrubs and brush past her, headed for the ice again.

  We do lines, power skating, drills, passing games, and bleacher runs. It’s a hard day. They always hit it the hardest the first day, separating the weak from the strong and showing us the bare mins for expectations.

  The funny thing is every guy here has worked his bag off for the last fifteen years to get here. There isn’t a slacker in the crowd.

  Coach shouts at us as we leave the ice. “Tomorrow we scrimmage. You earned it. Good hustle today, boys. Hit the showers.”

  Our skates thump along the rubber floor to the lockers. Sweat is attempting to blind me as I drag my helmet off and wipe with the hand I’ve freed from the glove.

  Mike Smolensky, one of the forwards walking next to me, gives me a grin. “You find somewhere to live easily?”

  “Yeah, a friend told me about a girl needing a roommate.”

  “Girl?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Dude, guys and girls can’t live together. It always leads to something. Tell me she’s a troll.”

  “Not a troll. She’s a bit crazy. You know the hotness crazy scale? She’s in the danger zone. I’m not worried about banging her. I have my guard up.”

  He chuckles and nods. “Okay.”

  He and I are second to last in line entering the locker room. We wait to talk through the door just as I catch a glimpse of something. It’s the nurse waving at me from down the long dark hallway under the bleachers. I pause, wondering if she wants to meet somewhere.
Seeing her gets me hard again.

  “Oh dude, come on.” Smolensky hits me in the arm. “Seriously?”

  I fake a cough. “I have a tickle in my throat. I need to get it looked at.”

  He chuckles and heads into the locker room as I look behind us. Coach hasn't followed so I head for the alcove she’s in. Her wide smile has taken a turn. She doesn't have the blushing nurse act going on.

  “Don't shower. I want you the way you are.” She bites her lip and this time I think I’m the one blushing. She backs into the alcove, vanishing from the hallway. She’s a pro, ticking all the right boxes. A little chase, a slutty enticement, glossy lips, and now she wants me dirty. I’m starting to think the ring is a ploy.

  When I get around the corner I stop, taking a breath. “Fuck me.” I almost look up and thank the man above because what’s in front of me is like winning the whore lottery.

  But I don't thank God because this doesn't feel like it's his area of expertise. He clearly didn’t make the temptation in front of me.

  She’s in a nurse's uniform, short and white like sluts wear on Halloween. She has one bare foot up on the side of a stair, revealing her perfect pink pussy. Her scrubs are on the floor. She was wearing this under her scrubs in hopes of fucking one of us? I might need two condoms.

  I shuffle forward, dropping gloves, helmet, stick, and everything I can get off by the time I get to her.

  She starts unlacing my pants, dragging them, my cup, and underwear to my knees. Her hand slides around my shaft, gripping too hard but at this point there is no too hard. This is the best day ever.

  I want her glossy lips around my cock, but I understand when she doesn't offer anything but a slight rub and tug. I’m sweaty as balls.

  Tearing open her nurse uniform, her perfect tits pop out. I’m starting to doubt her job as an actual nurse. She has porno tits, perfect domes, and they’re real. Thank you, Jesus.

  I massage a little roughly because I think she can take it. Rolling both her nipples I lower my face to them, but she doesn’t want to play, she wants to fuck.

  She opens the condom and slides it over my shaft, earning a moan from me.

  She steps onto the stair as I lift her into the air. It takes some wrestling but after a couple of awkward seconds, she manages to get my head between her soaking wet lips.

  She winces as she lowers. “You’re a big boy, Brady.” The way she says it makes me think of my billet mom when I was seventeen. This nurse is older. It takes a minute to really see it, but she is. She’s got to be in her late thirties but super good with makeup.

  I thrust, pushing into her, making us both moan. She’s tight for a slutty hockey mom. I have no doubt that's what she is. They aren’t your typical PFs. They’re freaks.

  Her ass cheeks are a bit too firm. There’s not much grabbing them, but I manage to get a good enough handle that I can slide her up and down. She grabs onto the railing behind her, helping me lift her. I spin so her feet can push on the wall and she can grab the railing better. My legs are ready to give out from hell day.

  She pushes in, making a low groan as she positions on the wall and sides of the stairs. Her face buries in my neck, biting and sucking as she bounces on my balls, finding a pace that suits us both. Her grunts become louder as she completely works me over, bobbing up and down on my throbbing cock. My thighs are screaming, her tits are bouncing against my jersey, and my balls feel like they might explode. It’s premature but this chick has worked everything exactly the way any guy would like it.

  I grip her ass as she screams and lowers her head, muffling her orgasm in me. I take the quivering to be my sign and fuck her as hard as I can, ignoring the pain searing through my failed muscles.

  I come like a titan, pulling out of her, putting her down, ripping off the condom and jerking myself all over her nurses uniform. I like to call it the Clinton. It’s a signature move. Like signing her tits, with my dick.

  My breath comes out in gasps as I jerk the last of it all over her. She smiles wide and nods. “You are a bad boy, Brady. I might have to fuck you the right way.” She winks, grabs her scrubs, and walks around the corner, tits out and all.

  The right way?

  It takes me a minute to recover and five to get back to the locker room. My ass is actually cramping.

  Mitch Daniels, another new guy, gives me a look as I drop my shit in a disheveled pile. “Dude, did you just bang the nurse?”

  “Got a more thorough physical than you guys did.” I laugh and strip and head for the showers.

  “Nice. She was a total MILF. I think her son plays high school hockey in Vermont. She said something like that.”

  I shrug and start to clean myself up. “She didn't talk much.”

  The guys laugh.

  It’s my best first day on any team, ever.

  Chapter Six

  Go Clinton yourself

  Natalie

  I fell asleep last night after I texted Sami with the whisperings of betrayal and et tu, Brute?

  When I wake the room is bright and silent.

  William has shot me a quick message this morning in response to my good night that he didn't respond to last night.

  Hope the first night with the new girl was relaxing. Have a great week.

  I can’t help but smile at it and feel marginally better as I lie back in bed. The new girl is a guy but he seems nice. I didn't get a single rapey vibe off him. His eyes never ventured below mine. In fact, he seemed like he was indifferent to me, which is how I want it. Right?

  Yes. I need to focus on the long-distance relationship I’m in, again. I had worried when Will hadn’t texted me to see how the move went and had fallen asleep convincing myself he was probably studying. The last year of law school is apparently the hardest, according to him. According to Google it’s the first year. So to wake to his text is a pleasant surprise.

  I can’t nag him or pester him. It’s what we discussed when we got back together. I haven’t ever really been that girl anyway, but apparently texting and checking in every day is needy, and he hates needy.

  So I have to let him text when he wants to. We agreed that if we were going to be together it would have to be low-key for the final year of his schooling. Then we could revisit and discuss bigger things like moving in together.

  The bed isn’t super comfortable but the room is quiet, even though a complete stranger slept in the other room. The doors came with locks and I used mine, but only because it’s the common sense thing to do.

  Even if I honestly don't fear Brady.

  I don't know why.

  Something about him screams trustworthy, which is completely insane. I don't know him at all.

  And if he’s a friend of Matt’s, he’s a slut. Not that I think rapists and sluts are in the same family, because I don't. But slutty guys make every girl uncomfortable. You know they’re thinking about sex all the time. I expected Brady to offer me some sex, which he didn't. Thankfully. It would be weird and make everything awkward. And then I would have to find a new place and with starting my first job ever tomorrow, I don't have time.

  I check to see if Sami has messaged me back, but my messages haven’t even delivered to her phone. She’s probably flying or something random.

  Telling myself that Sami is irresponsible enough to not realize Brady is a dude isn’t hard because she could have easily gotten confused with the BJ Brady thing. Maybe Matt said BJ, and she knows him as Brady and didn't realize.

  Telling myself she did this on purpose isn’t hard either. I just don't know why she would do it. She likes my parents so it can’t be to mess with them. She loves me so it wouldn't be a cruel prank.

  The only explanation is she honestly didn't realize they were the same person and got confused because she’s a bit of a narcissist and didn't care to double check the details.

  Not like I would have done for her.

  It does hurt my feelings in the smallest way. The very smallest.

  But I don't have time
to be a baby about the whole roommate thing. I have to start work tomorrow, and I need today to get this place completely organized.

  Throwing on some yoga pants and a tank top, I leave the room, listening for him, but he’s gone—just like he said he would be. I drag my long hair into a ponytail and saunter into the kitchen, ready to tackle the unpacking.

  There’s a note on the counter.

  There’s a smoothie in the fridge for you. Just use the Magic Bullet. You got this! B.

  B? Again with the B.

  He made me breakfast?

  There’s also coffee in the coffeemaker I unpacked last night.

  Screw BJ the butchy lacrosse player—I have Brady the friggin’ awesome hockey player as a perfect roommate.

  We can totally do this.

  I pour myself some hot coffee and stir in a little honey as I look in the fridge for the smoothie. Sure enough it’s filled with fresh fruits and kale? Barf.

  Since he didn't steer me wrong on the whole jarred sauce, I pull it from the fridge and look for the Magic Bullet. My parents have one and it’s the only reason I didn't die of starvation after school.

  I place the jar on there and turn it, sighing at the satisfying sound of emulsifying foods. It looks weird, sort of reddish green, but when I take off the lid it smells awesome. Being brave, I take a sip and smile, impressed by the taste.

  “He’s not the worst roommate.” The thought leaves my lips aloud as I start to finish the kitchen.

  It takes me all day to get my things put away and my room completely set up.

  Afterward, I do the walk to work to time it and make sure I have everything planned and figured out. Bushnell Park is beautiful and the capitol building makes the park seem as old as I imagine it is.