Roommates

by Whitney Lyles

  “You are?”

  “Of course. We’re friends. I’m glad she’s happy. But enough about this. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” He smiled. “Please don’t tell me about your exes. I think I’d be jealous.”

  Maybe it was the wine that made her bold, but she leaned in closer to him, and he took her face into her hands. Their kiss was slow and soft, and his lips had a distinct taste of something she couldn’t define. She felt herself wanting to be closer to him, to feel his warm skin on hers. She wanted to wake up next to him in the morning, but this was only their third date. A very faint part of her conscience reminded her what had happened last time she rushed into something like this.

  Shortly after Tim she went out on a few dates with another student from the criminal psychology program, Aaron Terry. On the third date she and Aaron had ended up back at her apartment. Buzzed and completely aroused, she couldn’t help herself. The sex had lasted a whopping two minutes, and he waited two weeks before calling again. When he did finally call, he seemed more interested in meeting up for a late-night booty call than going to dinner.

  But Max is different, she told herself as her hand brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. She and Max had a connection. She could talk to him all night about landmarks in the United States, and it would be terrifically interesting. He had cooked for her, and he had opened up to her about his past. His mouth traced its way down her neck, and she found herself pulling her V-neck shirt aside. He moved the edge of her bra away and gently latched his lips over a nipple. She suddenly wanted every inch of him on her body. She wanted to be filled with him.

  Aaron Terry. Aaron Terry, her conscience shouted. Max must’ve sensed some hesitation in her, because he took his mouth away from her breast and sat up.

  “We should stop,” she said as she twisted her bra and shirt back into place.

  “Okay. That’s fine.” He rubbed her arm. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  Actually she felt totally horny, but kept that to herself. “I just don’t want to rush.”

  “I completely understand.”

  They stayed on the couch, drinking wine and laughing at his stories about the wild days in the band. “Show me your tattoos,” she said, lifting his sleeve. The naked lady on his arm was not the same type of naked lady say, Axl Rose would have. She wasn’t Penthouse but had the same classic style of Ann Margret or Marilyn Monroe; big, soft curls weighed down her hair, and long lashes that looked like dark, dainty fans rested over her eyes. “Is the woman someone famous from the forties or fifties?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. She’s a Vargas Girl. Maybe at that time she was a famous pinup.”

  The model peered with catlike eyes over her left shoulder while unlatching the straps of her bra with long, feminine fingers. The curves of her left breast and nipple were exposed suggestively, and her waist seemed to join her butt like the tip of a heart. She had long and curvy legs and wore sexy, timeless heels similar to ones that Elise had imagined herself in if she ever had money.

  She’d always secretly wanted to wear a pair of heels like these. Her fantasy had included a white-fur-trimmed silk robe and matching heeled slippers. She’d strut to a chaise longue near a sprawling swimming pool. Of course, only her maid would know that she was prancing around like Ava Gardner. Naturally, she’d never show up at her parents’ country club dressed this way, but in the privacy of her mansion she could dress like this, sipping martinis and smoking skinny cigarettes. In the fantasy, she smoked.

  He lifted the back of his shirt, and her eyes were immediately drawn to his lower back. Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam covered the area above his tush. Not the entire painting from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but only the most well-known aspect of it—the two hands, the index fingers of God and man delicately touching for the first time.

  “I’ve been to the Sistine Chapel,” she said.

  “Me, too. It’s awesome.”

  When she noticed the lightning bolt with the initials TCB printed next to it on his left shoulder blade, her heart instantly sank. What if those were the initials of his ex-fiancée? She wanted to ask but also kind of didn’t want to know the answer. How could she be in a relationship with someone who had another woman’s initials permanently written on his body? And what kind of girl asked for a lightning bolt to accompany her initials? Even a cheesy rose would’ve been classier.

  What was her name? Tracey? Theresa? Tamara? Tammy Christine Brown.

  “Who is TCB?” she asked, unable to control her tormented curiosity.

  “TCB is Elvis’s trademark. It stands for Takin’ Care of Business. He always had the lightning symbol with TCB on everything.”

  “Oh,” she said, trying not to sound too relieved.

  He showed her all kinds of pictures from his rocker days. He reminded her a little of a young Jim Morrisson back then with his shaggy hair and suede pants. They looked at all his photos on his bed, where they ended up making out again. She wished she could hit a Fast Forward button to a few more dates from now when she felt more secure about their situation, but she couldn’t.

  “You’re sleeping here tonight,” he said. “Not that anything will happen. I just think you should stay with me.”

  They ended up falling asleep entwined in one another’s arms. It had been ages since she’d spooned, or felt someone’s breath on the nape of her neck. It was the most deep and satisfying sleep she’d had in some time.

  21. The Ultimate Invasion

  She left his apartment early the next morning while he was still groggy with sleep. It was hard to leave the warm blanket his body had created against hers, but she didn’t know how she looked. The possibilities were endless. She could look as fresh as the moment she’d walked in, or she could have mascara running down her cheeks and two new zits from sleeping with foundation on.

  He called her that afternoon but unfortunately had to help a local band install some equipment in their studio. He wanted to see her the following night, but it was Brice’s birthday, and she had to drive to Poway for dinner at her parents’ house. After that it seemed like an eternity until she would see him because his sister and two nieces flew in from San Francisco for the week, and he’d be tied up with family events. It seemed like she would never see him again.

  She spent her days working on the next Ashley Trent novel in the morning and spending a couple of hours at the beach in the afternoon. She checked her e-mail obsessively for any news of the movie rights. Near the end of the week her curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to e-mail her agent to see if there had been any word on the film rights.

  Hi Cheryl,

  Just wondering if we’ve heard anything. Thanks!

  Elise

  As soon as she sent the e-mail, she knew the only news she’d be getting would be probably be bad. If there had been good news, she would’ve heard. After sitting in front of her computer screen for nearly an hour and clicking Refresh on her e-mail nearly five hundred times, she decided it was time to clear her head a little.

  She decided to go to the mall. She needed some cute clothes now that she was dating someone. She had no money but reasoned that credit cards were for emergencies, and having a new beau and no cute clothes was an emergency.

  When she returned home her roommates were gone and her computer was on. She could’ve sworn that she had turned it off, because she was paranoid about losing stuff ever since Megan had used it without asking.

  When she looked at the screen there was a gigantic image of Iris’s face wearing a blonde wig that looked as if it had been pasted on her from a different computer file. The style of the wig was much different than her frizzy, shoulder-length hair. The new Iris had a trendy little shag. She clicked on the box, and when she did so, Megan’s face popped up sporting a black, short, Joan Jett-like hairdo. She clicked again, seeing them each with red hair, long hair, curly hair. Then an icon came up that said, “Welcome to the Makeover Program. Would you like to pi
ck out makeup?” She clicked Yes and watched as several different shades of eyeliner popped on the screen. She clicked on turquoise blue and then requested fuchsia lipstick. She tried to close the screen, but it wouldn’t, and the little hourglass came on. She waited and waited and it didn’t close. They had frozen her computer with their makeover stuff, and now she wouldn’t be able to find out if her agent had e-mailed her back.

  She hit Control-Alt-Delete, but nothing happened. She pressed the Power button, and the computer did nothing. She was stuck gazing at Iris with short, black curly hair and cat’s-eye reading glasses.

  Her phone rang, and her irritation quickly dissolved when she realized it was Max. “Hey. You busy?”

  “No. I’m just trying to fix my computer.”

  “I’m meeting my sister and her kids at the coaster in a half hour, and I thought I’d stop by if you aren’t doing anything.”

  “Okay,” she said, trying to stifle her glee. “Come on by.”

  Luckily, their apartment was in fair shape. Her roommates’ parents had stopped by the previous day for lunch, and Megan and Iris had been forced to clean. After she hung up the phone with him, she did a quick sweep through their living room and kitchen and shoved a few things in a cabinet. While she waited for Max to arrive, she called her brother. Surprisingly, Stan actually knew a lot about computers, and she needed his help.

  She explained what happened. “Well, what are you doing right now? I can come by to help you fix it, or you’ll have to wait till this weekend.”

  She couldn’t go that long without e-mail. It would drive her nuts. However, Max was on his way, and she hadn’t told Stan they were dating yet. Not that it was some big secret. She just hadn’t had a chance to tell him. On the other hand, now was as good a time as any. “All right. That’s fine. Max will be here, too.”

  “Really? That’s cool. Are you guys dating now?”

  “We’ve hung out a couple of times, but please don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

  “Why not?” This coming from someone who never revealed anything about his love life to anyone.

  “Because I’m just not ready. Do I have to explain? They were trying to set me up with Thomas Yackrell. You think they’re going to welcome Max and all his tattoos with open arms?”

  “Who cares what they think?”

  “I’m just not ready, okay? We’ve only been on three dates. It’s the same reason why he’s not taking me to meet his sister and nieces tonight. It’s too soon.”

  “All right.”

  Max arrived first. He handed her a single yellow rose. “I didn’t know you had roses in North Park,” she said.

  “I don’t. I snagged it out of someone’s yard on the way over here.”

  He was cute even when he was a thief. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Stan arrived a few moments later, and while he fooled with her computer, she put the rose in a glass.

  She put her rose on the nightstand. Max and her brother chatted and joked with one another, and she was really glad that they got along so well. Next to Carly, he was her closest friend, and she always did secretly hope he approved of all her boyfriends.

  “I put a password on here, too,” Stan said as he finished working on her computer. “So now your roommates can’t get in here anymore.”

  This was good, because now she wouldn’t even have to confront them. They would just learn on their own that they would never be able to figure out what her password was.

  “What is my password?” She waited for him to say something perverse or disgusting, and she’d never be able to figure out how to change it.

  “Bella,” he said.

  After her computer was fixed, she figured Stan would leave, but he just sat there chatting with them. His cell phone rang, and he didn’t leave the room to answer it. “Hi, Mom and Dad.”

  What was wrong with him? Hadn’t she just finished telling him that she didn’t want her parents finding out about Max just yet, and here he answers his phone while they’re all hanging out.

  “I’m at Elise’s,” she heard him say. “You are? Well, I don’t know if Elise can, but I’ll go. Okay, see you in five minutes.” He snapped his flip phone shut. “I’m going to World Famous with Mom and Dad. You guys want to come?”

  “I actually have to meet my sister and her kids at the roller coaster in a little bit. So I can’t.”

  “No. I’ll pass,” Elise said. She expected Stan to get up and leave to meet her parents, but instead he just sat there.

  “Don’t you have to meet Mom and Dad in five minutes?”

  “No. They’re coming here. They want to see your new place.”

  “They are?” she said, trying to keep herself from jumping across the bed and beating Stan senseless with his cell phone.

  The only thing she could figure was that he had been dropped on his head at birth. Had he not heard anything she’d said to him before he came over? She wasn’t ready to introduce them to Max. He was someone she was going to have to slowly expose to her parents to, like maybe next year. In fact, she had it all planned out. She was going to subtly start mentioning him, little by little, eventually slipping in that he hadn’t finished college and had a number of tattoos, specifically one of a seminude woman. Then gradually she planned to slip in that they were dating. If things went well with Max, maybe by the following year she’d mention that they were serious. But they couldn’t meet now. It would be too much of a shock. And it was too early for Max, too. Meeting her parents could have an equally traumatizing effect on him. They could permanently scare him away.

  For payback, she would run classifieds in every publication in town with Stan’s number: Free AKC golden retriever pups. Parents are both champions. Must find good homes soon! Call Stan.

  Shit, how was she going to get out of this? Even if she did say she wasn’t hungry, they were still coming over. It was inevitable, unavoidable for them to meet Max. Maybe she could intercept them in the driveway and tell them Max was one of Stan’s friends. She’d never be able to say this in front of Max, but for now it would probably just be best for everyone if she fibbed a little. That’s what she’d do. Then down the road when she started mentioning that they were dating, she could just say, “Remember that nice friend of Stan’s you met? Well, we’re dating! Imagine that.”

  She had no doubt Max would be polite and likable around her parents. So maybe this would just work out for the best. He could lay the foundation for being liked before they even knew he was dating their daughter.

  She’d quickly give them a run-through of the apartment and politely send them on their way.

  Max excused himself to use the restroom, and Elise immediately turned to her brother. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed.

  “What?” He threw his arms to either side of his body.

  “I told you I didn’t want them to know anything.”

  “What could I do? They offered to pick me up, and I want to have a couple of cocktails at dinner, so I wasn’t about to drive there.”

  “You are unbelievable.”

  “Just say he’s friends with your roommates.”

  “What? In front of him? When I introduce them?”

  Stan was about to suggest something when Max returned, and they both maintained their composure.

  “I’m going to take a bag of trash out before my parents get here,” she said, even though she had already thrown everything out before Max arrived.

  “I can help,” Max offered. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Um no. That’s okay. While you’re both here I actually need you and Stan to move my dresser. I don’t like it there.”

  “Why?” Stan asked, puzzled.

  “Where else would you put it?”

  “I just think maybe it should be moved another five or six inches to the left. Thanks. I’m sure you guys can handle it.”

  She waited on the sidewalk until she saw Marge’s pink outfit heading toward her like a firecracker. They were survey
ing the place as if they were the ones moving in. Her mother’s lipstick and blush were both pale pink, and her hair looked as if it hadn’t moved a millimeter since she’d styled it that morning.

  “Well, this is much better than that place you were living in before,” her mother said as soon as she noticed her.

  “Much better. But what about the noise?” her father asked. “Aren’t you going to get tired of hearing that roller coaster?”

  “I’m only living here for three months. Their roommate is studying abroad in Germany, and she wants her room back.”

  “Stan has a friend here,” Elise said as hey walked toward her front door. “He’s not going to dinner with you guys though.”

  “Oh? Have we met this friend?”

  “No. I don’t think you’ve met this one,” Elise said. She waited a moment before opening the door.

  “Speaking of meeting people,” her father said as they stepped inside. “What did you think of Thomas Yackrell? Isn’t he something?”

  Max was sitting just a small flight of stairs away, and didn’t sound travel up?

  “Oh yes,” her mother added as they ascended the staircase. “His mother called me and told me he was just taken with you.”

  She searched for something to distract them. “Have you lost weight, Mom?”

  “Uh . . . well. Gee, no one has noticed. But yes, I have!”

  Thank God she had thought of something to get them off Thomas Yackrell. “I’ve been doing Pilates and trying to get your father involved, too.”

  Hal rolled his eyes.

  When they reached the living room Max and Stan were engaged in conversation, and Elise hoped that he hadn’t heard a word of Thomas Yackrell. He stood up when her parents entered. Hal and Max went to shake hands, and Elise couldn’t help but notice her father’s eyes wandering to Max’s hand. They lingered there for a moment. The star tattoo.