More than Roommates

by Jillian Quinn

  She holds up her hands and shrugs. “Hey, how am I supposed to know? You’re not exactly an open book. I have yet to see you with a man in all the time that I have worked with you.”

  I contemplate her words, and sadly, I realize Clarke is right. Damn. I am getting lamer by the minute. Maybe a night with Ethan was what I needed. Too bad Will had to go and interrupt us.

  “You ready to head home? This night is going nowhere fast, and I need to get some real food. The Chinese place below my apartment is open for another hour.”

  Clarke scrunches her nose in disgust. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Suit yourself. You don’t know what you are missing.”

  Clarke puts the car in drive and pulls out of the parking space and onto the street, glancing over her shoulder for oncoming traffic. I slide my seatbelt back into place and take one last look at Old City Records.

  What a mess. My dating life is a disaster. I can’t nail the bastards I have been chasing around for the past few months.

  Now, I have to go home and deal with the guilt I harbor over lying to my brother. One taste of my brother’s best friend wasn’t enough. I am hungry, desperate, begging for more. I need him. All of him.

  14

  Ethan

  After passing out with the worst case of blue balls in history, I woke up with a raging hard-on that would not quit. Mia has broken my dick. I think. Or at least it feels that way. I’ve been hard all day. All afternoon. All fucking night. Because I cannot get her out of my damn head.

  Even after a long, hot shower, I can still smell her on my skin. I feel her hands on my body. I can taste her juices on my lips. Every single memory from last night has been burned into my mind, making what we did permanent and a constant reminder of how much I fucked up. As if I haven’t done enough stupid shit in my life, I had to act on those unwanted feelings. I almost fucked my best friend’s little sister.

  After dinner, Will got a call from some chick he met this week, leaving me alone in Mia’s apartment. All day I had thought about confessing. But my secret is not mine alone to tell. Mia would kill me if I said a word. Then, Will would kill me for touching his sister. This entire situation is a lose-lose no matter how I look at it.

  Despite a nagging migraine penetrating my skull, I pop a few Tylenol and down an entire bottle of water, before moving into the living room. It’s been at least a week since I have done anything that remotely resembles exercise. The time for slacking off is over.

  Sinking to the floor, I sit on the yoga mat I found in Mia’s hall closet and laugh at myself. The thought of Mia using the mat is hilarious. Someone must have given it to her as a gift, hence why I found it buried under boxes and covered in dust.

  Shirtless and in a pair of black basketball shorts, I lie back on the mat. Moving my hands behind my head to support myself, I take it slow, as I sit up just enough for my abs to burn. Today, the pain feels good. I welcome it. I need it. Exorcising the bad thoughts of Mia from my brain, I pick up the pace and raise my legs in the air, elevating them at the perfect angle.

  I get lost in my workout, too focused on anything but the tingling sensation that spreads throughout my body. Apart from the police sirens blaring off in the distance, the silence calms me. No distractions. No one to annoy me or ask me questions. Will had asked me about Mia and what happened after we left the club. As usual, he was worried about her.

  By the time I hear the key turn in the lock, I’m on my seventh set. It has to be Mia. Will still needs a key to the apartment, something he reminded me of at least five times today. He wasn’t thrilled about being stuck in the hallway, while Mia and I scrambled to find our clothes. If only he knew…

  Mia slams the door behind her, and I peek up at her. She moves into the room and stands over me, with her hands on her hips and biting her lip. It’s hard to tell if she’s annoyed or turned on. A little bit of both, maybe.

  “At least someone is making use of that mat.” Mia laughs. “Lord knows it won’t be me.”

  “Work out with me,” I offer before I can take the words back.”

  She slides the messenger bag she carries everywhere off her shoulder and onto the floor next to the coffee table. “You know I’m allergic exercise,” she deadpans.

  Without thinking, I reach up and grab her hand. She falls forward, and as I had planned, she collapses on top of me. Her breath hitches when she locks eyes with me. Bright blue irises stare back, causing my heart to speed up. Why does Mia have this effect on me? As much as I should distance myself, I want to be closer to her. And I hate myself for it.

  She slides her fingers through my sweat-slick hair, pushing it off my forehead. Mia shakes her head, a smile already on her lips. “Why do you have to be you?”

  “Not sure what you mean.”

  “It’s just…” She turns her head away from me and sighs. “This is so hard.”

  “I know.” I move my hand up to her chin, and she turns to face me once more. For what I want to say, I need her undivided attention. “I hung out with your brother all day, while he interrogated me about every aspect of last night. I hate lying to Will. He’s my best friend and pretty much the only family I have other than my mom, and that’s not saying much since she is never around, both physically and emotionally.”

  “Last night was a mistake.”

  Her words are like a punch in the gut, the pain almost instantaneous. She opens her mouth, as if she’s about to speak again, and stops herself. We share a quick moment, where we stare into each other’s eyes, not sure of what to say to each other. Because what is left to say?

  “But I don’t regret it,” Mia finally says.

  Relief washes over me. She doesn’t regret it.

  “Me either.” I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sit up so that our lips are almost touching. “I want you, Mia. A part of me has always wanted you.”

  “You were my first crush. My first real friend. But then you disappeared without even saying goodbye.”

  I let out a frustrated groan. “We have gone over this already. More times than I can count.”

  “But you never answer my question. Why did you leave? Why didn’t you have enough respect for me to say goodbye?”

  “Respect?” I close my eyes and sigh, opening them back up slowly. “If I didn’t have respect for you or your brother, I would have kissed you ten years ago. I would have been your first kiss. I would have been your first everything.”

  She gasps as if struggling for the rights words. “Everything?”

  That’s all she says. A question, not a statement.

  I nod. “Yes. Everything. I wanted it all with you, Mia, but I couldn’t have you. My life was so fucked up back then that I wasn’t about to drag you into my mess. You were always too good for me. You still are.”

  “You are only saying this because of Will,” she counters, irritated with me. “If anyone was too good, it was you, Mr. Perfect. You were good at everything. There was nothing you could say or do to make people hate you. You were the golden boy of Lower Merion High School. Because you are easy to love. Everyone loves you.”

  I touch her cheek with my thumb, feeling her silky smooth skin. “Even you?”

  She turns her head to glance at the couch, but I won’t allow it, forcing her to look at me.

  “Answer me,” I demand.

  She snorts. “When you answer my question, I will answer yours.”

  Releasing my grip on her face, I drop my arm to the floor and look up at the ceiling. “I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

  No one can know the reason I left after high school. The truth could ruin my professional hockey career. It would be the beginning of the end.

  “The fact that you have something to hide makes me want to know even more,” she admits.

  “Which is why I won’t tell you. My life is not something for you to report to the world.”

  “You should know me well enough by now. I would never do that to you.”

  With Mia worki
ng for the Philadelphia Inquirer, I can’t take the risk. What if she told someone on accident? She could tell her friend, Clarke, not thinking anything of it. I know she would never hurt me on purpose. Even Will doesn’t know the truth about the summer after graduation or the year after. Some things are better left in the past.

  “I know,” I tell her. “Can we forget about the past and think about the future instead?”

  “We don’t have a future,” she spits back. “Once Will finds out about us, he will never let us near each other again.”

  I move her to the floor next to me and sit up, folding one leg over the other. “I’d like to see him stop me. Will might have some say in your life, but he has zero in mine.”

  “We both know that is not true. Will is your best friend. He’s family.”

  “Here in lies my dilemma. How can I be with you if it will hurt my best friend? He’s like my brother. But I can’t ignore the way I feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you.”

  “Me, too,” she confesses. “So, what do we do?”

  I shrug. “ I have no idea. The other day, Will had flat out asked me if I liked you, and I lied right to his face. I hate doing that to him. He deserves to know.”

  “I agree.” Mia lets out a puff of air, blowing a piece of hair in front of her eyes. She pushes it away with her finger and continues, “I don’t want to be the end of your friendship with my brother. I love him too much to do that to him. Will would be just as lost without you, as you would be without him. He was a mess after you left. We both were. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.”

  “How do you think I felt? I never wanted to leave either of you. For the longest time, Mia, you were my something good.”

  “You were always mine,” she whispers. “You still are, even though I hate to admit it. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. I waited years for you to kiss me. I used to sit on the swing next to you and hope that just once you would pull me into your arms and kiss me.”

  I grab her by the hips and move her to my lap. She leans into my chest and slides her arm across the back of my neck. When I cup her cheek in my hand, she closes her eyes and moans, softly. She wants this as much as I do. We both need this.

  So, I kiss her as if it’s the last time I will ever touch her. I kiss her as if she’s my last breath. Most of all, I kiss her goodbye. Because I have to stay away from Mia. She’s another drug I need to kick.

  15

  Mia

  Ethan is missing, or at the very least avoiding me. For the first few days after our talk, Ethan was either sleeping or not home. I have no idea where to find him. Will hasn’t said a word about Ethan, and I haven’t bothered to mention him. Drawing more attention to the fact that I care would only make my brother more suspicious.

  Will stretches his hand across the kitchen table. “Can you pass me the sugar?”

  I push the sugar bowl in front of him, taking a sip from my cup.

  “Thanks, baby sis.” He drops three teaspoons into his coffee and stirs it with a knife instead of the spoon in front of him.

  Weirdo.

  During the regular season, Will drinks little caffeine, but in the post-season, he pounds coffee and Red Bull as if he will never have it again.

  “How come you’re so quiet this morning?” Will lifts the mug to his lips and blows off some steam. “You haven’t even yelled at me for staying out all night.”

  I shrug against the wooden chair. “Too tired to give you shit, I guess. I haven’t had much sleep this week.”

  He smirks. “Me either.”

  “You would get more sleep if you weren’t whoring around,” I quip.

  Will shrugs, unaffected. “I can sleep when I’m dead.”

  “That might be sooner than later if you keep this shit up. Ever since your season ended, you’ve gone out every single night. You never used to party this much.”

  Will doesn’t reply. He sucks down half his coffee and turns head away from me.

  Something has been up with him for a while now. I wish he would talk to me. Like Ethan, my brother is secretive. He only allows me in when it’s convenient for him.

  I peel back the Dunkin Donuts wrapper and take a bite of the sausage and egg sandwich Will brought home for me. He was out with a girl until right before my alarm went off, stumbling through the front door with the key I had made for him around six thirty. I didn’t make one for Ethan, not with him pulling his disappearing act. Again. Ethan’s special skill is leaving as if he never fucking existed. Bastard.

  I have no right to be angry. But I am. Ethan kissed me on the floor of my living room, sat with me while I ate Chinese food at the takeout place downstairs, and then I went to bed, assuming I would see him again in the morning. When he kissed me on the forehead and said goodnight, that was the last time I saw Ethan. Over five days ago. I miss him, even though I should hate him.

  For as long as I have known Ethan Waters, I have been his fool. More like his pet. I come when he tells me. He snaps his fingers, and I’m right there, begging for him to use me. And I allow him. Every single time. Like an idiot.

  In the middle of eating my food, my cell phone buzzes on the table, vibrating in my direction. A sick part of me wants it to be Ethan. My stomach clenches, the eggs in my stomach threatening to make a re-appearance. I let out a sigh of relief, though I’m not completely convinced that I am when I see Clarke’s name pop up on my screen.

  Sliding my thumb along the glass, I lift the phone up to read her text.

  You were right about Old City Records. Fred is popping major wood over the story. From what I heard in the break room, he scored you an interview for a part-time gig, if you want it.

  Before I can respond, a call from Fred Stephenson, my boss from hell, interrupts our conversation. Sucking in a deep breath, I hit the green button to answer and push my chair out from the table.

  “Hey, Fred.”

  “Mia, cancel whatever you have planned for the morning.”

  Hello to you, too.

  “I need you at Old City Records at nine o’clock for an interview with the owner.” His deep voice sounds like gravel and hurts my ear the way he barks each word. “I had to pull a few strings to make this happen, but after reading your notes, I think you’re on to something. Chase this lead and see where it takes you.”

  Holding the phone to my ear, I get up in a hurry and walk away from Will. Even though we’re close, I cannot tell my brother about certain parts of my job. Following around drug dealers to write a story is not one of them.

  “Sure thing, boss,” I say, moving into the living room.

  “One more thing, Mia.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t fuck this up. Wear something short and tight. You have to impress the owner if you know what I mean.”

  Actually, no, I don’t, you fucking asshole.

  “I need the job and the story. I won’t disappoint.”

  “Chin up, tits out,” he says. “Call me when it’s over.”

  Then, the line goes dead.

  Why do all of the men in my life have to be such a pain in my ass? And dirtballs at that. Fred sexually harasses me on a daily basis, though I know he’s harmless. Will fucks anything that moves. And Ethan…

  The thought of him alone makes my chest ache, producing a pang of anger mixed with shame and sexual frustration. Even though my mind tells me to stay away from Ethan, my body betrays me. He claimed a part of me that I doubt I will ever get back, which makes the pain unbearable.

  Now, I have to put my feelings aside and do my job. My career is on the line. This interview could be a step in the right direction, the distraction I need right now.

  * * *

  Two hours later, I walk through the front door at Old City Records. Wearing a skirt, boots that lace-up to my knees, a black tank that appears as though I taped it to my body, and a jean jacket, I look the part of grunge rocker chick. The holes that Ethan never fails to give me shit about are interspersed
along my jacket, complete with rock band patches I have collected over the years.

  If Ethan wanted dress-up Barbie, he should have chased down another puck bunny. Instead, he chose me as his next victim. Like most diseases, he’s hard to shake from my system. I wish I could pop a few pills and cleanse him from my body. But Ethan has a strong hold over me, consuming every thought of every waking moment.

  I step up to the front counter with a forced smile.

  A man with chestnut hair and deep brown eyes peeks up at me from the newspaper in his hand. How convenient that he’s reading my paper—The Philadelphia Inquirer. Not that it surprises me, considering it’s the most read in the city, but it sure is funny timing.

  I push my tits out, as per my order from Fred, and stand straight. “Hi, I’m here to see Connor about the part-time clerk position.”

  He sets the paper on a stack of records in front of him and leans forward. A smile that reaches up to his deep brown eyes illuminates his face. As if Fred told him to do it, he glances at my face for a second, before raking over my body with his lecherous gaze. He settles on my chest, making me feel self-conscious and also stupid for listening to Fred. But he was obviously right. And I need this job. So, fuck it. Ogle away.

  “I’m Connor.” He reaches his hand across the counter for me to shake. “You must be Pandora.”

  I almost burst out in laughter. Pandora? That’s my cover for this job. What the fuck? Like Pandora’s box. Way to go, Fred. Was that the best he could come up with? Or did he do that to fuck with me? A common name like Mary or Patricia would have been better. A little heads up would have been nice. That asshole probably wanted me to mess this up.

  Not gonna happen, buddy.

  I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my laughter, hoping I can make it through this interview without breaking down. I could use a laugh after the week I’ve had.

  “You can call me Dora,” I say as if I was born with this unusual name and have to correct people all the time. Dora the Explorer. Oh my God, how will I make it through the next five minutes?