The Roommate Arrangement

by Vanessa Waltz

  A smile breaks through her gloom. "I think you hit the nail on the head. Pegging’s not my thing."

  Good. "Thank God."

  She steps closer, running a finger down my chest. Her gaze flicker to mine, the dark pools holding me still. "If she doesn’t show up, I will expect compensation."

  That’s punishment? "Sounds like a win-win situation."

  "At the party."

  I imagine pulling Saffie to a secluded corner, unzipping my slacks and covering her mouth as her legs tighten around me. "Might be tricky."

  "And fun," she says. "That’s why we started this. Don’t forget it."

  The bet with Saffie consumes my mind the moment she puts on her cocktail dress. As soon as we step inside, I scout for quiet areas. A corner near the bathrooms will do the trick. I’m hoping Gisele doesn’t show her face, because it’ll get my hands on Saffie’s body that much faster. And lately she’s the only bright spot in my day.

  The venue, a craft brewery downtown, is decorated in swaths of blue and gold. Streamers, confetti, and team paraphernalia cover every surface. Saffie clutches my arm, missing the homicidal looks thrown her way from my female fans lined up at the door, which is fine. I’m on a mission to make her happy.

  Nauseating portraits of me stand on black tables. Blue-and-gold banners hang from the ceiling, commemorating my five-year anniversary, and Coach O’Connor toasts me with his champagne glass. Tanner chews his hairy lip. I tug Saffie’s hand in their direction. I don’t blame Coach as much as the team manager, but he’s just as guilty of trying to sweep everything under the rug.

  "Coach O’Connor, I believe you’ve met Saffie. Henry’s sister."

  Coach’s smile becomes a grimace. "Yes, we bumped into each other at practice." His gaze flicks to our joined hands.

  He’s going to chastise me. I recognize that gleam. Bending, I brush my lips against Saffie’s ear. "Can you give us five minutes, please?"

  "I’ll get drinks," she says, eyes sweeping over the frowning men.

  "Thanks." I kiss her cheek, and she heads toward the bar.

  My mood drops when I face them.

  Tanner coughs, his frown visible under his thick beard. "Have you been dating for a while?"

  Fucked her on day three. "A few weeks."

  I don’t like the way Coach looks at her with that disapproving glare. If it wouldn’t get me suspended, I’d slap it off. "Henry knows about this?"

  "He didn’t want us touching his sister," I purr. "Can’t say I held myself back."

  Coach swears under his breath. "Damn it, Grayson. Shut the fuck up. There are reporters everywhere looking for a juicy piece of gossip."

  "Really? Shoot, I guess people would turn their heads at a story like this. I did not realize that."

  "What the hell are you trying to prove?" Tanner growls. "Fucking around with Henry’s sister won’t help your cause."

  I’m counting on it. "Maybe I should’ve left her at home—is that what you’re saying? We’re dating, guys. What does that have to do with anything?"

  Even though he’s a full head shorter than me, Coach takes a step forward, menace written all over his tanned face. "Don’t be a fucking jerk. It doesn't matter to me who you are. I’ll knock your ass into next week if you pull that shit here."

  "Coach, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Ah, there she is." Saffie returns with two ice-cold pints of beer.

  "I got you an IPA," she says.

  "Perfect. Thanks, babe."

  I take a sip as a short man wearing a bowtie butts in with his camera. "Could I get a photo for the Santa Barbara Times?"

  "Of course. Guys, hold these for us." Tanner and Coach grudgingly accept our glasses as I wrap my arm around Saffie’s waist. She wore a blue cocktail dress with a black-and-nude pattern. It sticks to her petite frame, the neckline ending above her tits. Such a shame.

  I smile at the camera. It flashes, and I introduce Saffie as my date. I’ll leave that to them to piece together because I don’t want to ruin tonight.

  Thanking them, we grab our beers and mingle. Saffie’s enthralled by the decorations hanging on every surface. She plucks a Grizzlies cake popsicle from a bouquet in the middle of the lounge. Blue-and-gold-themed drinks sit at the bar, where Chris sits, already three rum and cokes in.

  It’s supposed to be a light event. No debauchery. Tanner’s still dogging my footsteps, no doubt worried I’ll strip my pants and set my dick on fire. A scandal big enough they can’t ignore.

  "Oh my God," Saffie exclaims. "You guys have plushies, too?"

  Saffie stops in front of the mounted display of blue bears. They’re grizzlies, I guess, but they resemble pandas. She laughs at the cute button noses and stitched grins. "You should’ve picked a mascot that exists in San Francisco. Like sea lions."

  "God, you’re right." I’ve walked past Fisherman’s Wharf many times, the scent of unwashed bodies and rotting fish saturating the air as bloated sacks of brown flesh barked, barked, and barked.

  I take Saffie’s elbow and guide her toward the back, where there’s a soccer video game set up complete with chairs and a juice bar.

  "You guys would have kale smoothies at a freaking party." She gapes at the glowing, tall glasses of vegetable muck.

  "Staying this beautiful is hard work. You have no idea."

  "Next you’ll complain about smiling for your Instagram profile. Do you ever even use the products you endorse?"

  "Some of them." She shakes her head in envy at all the cool stuff surrounding us. "I didn’t sign to the pros for access to VIP lounges and corporate sponsorships. All of this is just noise." That might sound ungrateful to someone who doesn’t have much. "The game is what I live for."

  "Did you always know this was what you wanted?"

  "Yeah," I say, thinking to the summers where I worked on improving my footwork. "College wasn’t for me. I spent every available hour practicing. Forcing myself to keep going. On the field, I feel whole. It’s hard to explain."

  Her eyes glance away. "I have no idea what that’s like."

  "What about your job?"

  "Hate it. I mean, it was interesting, but never what I wanted to do. I applied to law school because I thought it’d make my dad happy."

  Ouch. "What do you want, then?"

  She buries her smile. "You will think it’s stupid."

  "No, I won’t. Tell me."

  Biting her lip, she meets my gaze. "I'd love to work with animals."

  "That’s not dumb." I laugh as her cheeks stain pink. "I was expecting pole dancing or something."

  She shakes her head. "When I was a teen, I wanted to become a zoologist. Someone who works with big cats. Now I’d settle for being a vet tech. I’m burnt out on studying."

  I get it. "So why don’t you chase after it?"

  "Because it’s not realistic, Grayson. I have bills to pay." She shrugs. "Not everyone does it right. Sometimes it’s too late to follow your dreams."

  "Why kind of nihilistic shit is that? You’re not eighty. There’s plenty of time to change your career. Take night classes if you have to."

  Her eyes widen. "You think I should?"

  "Yeah, unless you don’t mind hating your job for the rest of your life. I’d go insane."

  She mulls it over, tapping her nails against her drink. "What about you? What do you want?"

  I used to have a five-year plan for that question, but now I feel as lost as her. "The answer will always be sex when you ask that."

  "Can’t you be serious for one second? I’m trying to get to know you."

  And it’s not a mystery why.

  She’s lonely.

  She wants me to save her.

  Good fucking luck. The woman who stabbed me in the back made sure there’d never be room in my bitter heart for anything but lust.

  A man with shoulder-length, golden hair waves at me across the brewery. For a second I don’t recognize Titus in the suit. It’s rare to see him out of shorts. He beckons wildly.


  Saffie notices him. "What does he want?"

  "Dunno."

  She takes my hand, and I enjoy the way it folds into mine. We walk toward him. Titus wears a taut grimace, his movements tense as he meets me halfway.

  "Dude," he says with gravitas. "Your ex is here."

  Kris. The cheating bitch. She’s here?

  Fuck. "Where?"

  "I don’t know! She slipped inside. Will you help me find Henry’s wife before they bump into each other?"

  Hell no. I didn’t tell Gisele about the affair because I wanted Henry to man up and do it himself, but the asshole never did. And I’ll be damned if anyone blames me for ruining their marriage. That doesn’t mean I'll hide Kris from Gisele. "Fuck that."

  Titus gives me an unhappy look as he gestures toward the room filled with pool tables, and I see a statuesque woman cradling a baby bump.

  "You’re crushing my hand, Grayson."

  I release her. "Sorry."

  "That’s your ex?" she says, staring at her. "Why is she talking to my brother?"

  I’m keen to let her tag along, but I don’t think I could handle watching her cry. Again. "I need to deal with this. Stay here. I’ll be back soon."

  I bend to kiss her frozen cheek, her glassy eyes trained on Kris, who storms out of the room in a maternity gown, Henry close behind.

  Kris’ high-pitched voice stabs the air. "Where is he?"

  Henry grabs her arm, white-faced with panic. "Kris, you have to leave. My wife is here."

  The woman of my nightmares revolves on the spot when someone points me out.

  Fuck.

  Saffie stiffens as Kris charges forward, her silks billowing around her body like black mist. Henry snatches her biceps. She slaps him away. I’d laugh at Henry’s stricken face if I didn’t hate this bitch so much.

  Kris’s bold eyes always made her the focal point of any gathering. She was a girl who liked her makeup and did it well. I gravitated toward her immediately, and when she found out I was signed to the Grizzlies, she flattered me with sweet smiles and amazing blowjobs.

  Saffie gapes at the baby bump.

  "Hi, baby," she says in a honeyed voice. "I’ve been trying to put you boys in the same room forever."

  My blood churns. "How the hell did you get in here?"

  "I greased the bouncer. Five hundred dollars well spent."

  I glare at Henry. All thanks to his hush money. "My lawyer sent you three emails explaining I want no contact with you. Why are you here?"

  "You know how hard it is being a single mom? I have no one to drive me to my appointments. The baby belongs to you." She points at us. "Someone needs to man the fuck up and help me."

  Horror twists Saffie’s face. "Henry, what is she talking about? What’s going on?"

  "Who are you?" Kris snarls.

  "She’s my sister." A plea wavers Henry’s words. "I’ll do anything, but please leave."

  "Why?" she says, voice growing louder. "Because you don’t want your wife to know? I will not be a single mom, Henry. You promised you’d help me take care of it!"

  Saffie covers her mouth, staring at a point beyond Henry’s shoulder. A thin woman stands behind him with her arms crossed, her beautiful face knitted in concern.

  Gisele.

  Shit.

  She shouldn’t have to find out like this. Titus attempts to intercept her, but Gisele shoves him away.

  "What is she talking about?" Gisele addresses Henry, who seems at a loss for words.

  So Kris sets her straight. "Your husband had an affair with me."

  My heart breaks as Gisele laughs, clinging to Henry’s arm. She gazes at the circle of people, her lips fighting to keep smiling. "With you? He wouldn’t— Is she telling the truth? Henry?"

  But Henry can’t or won’t answer. His face has gone the shade of sour milk.

  Frowning, Kris pats her swollen belly. "Honey, it’s really simple. He cheated on you with me. Now I’m pregnant, and I need support."

  A ringing silence follows Kris’ words. Horror grips my stomach as Gisele’s expression transforms from anger to confusion to soul-crushing despair.

  "Babe, let’s go home." Henry slides an arm around Gisele’s shoulder.

  She throws him off, tears glistening in her eyes. "Is it true?"

  "Gisele, she’s crazy. She wasn’t even invited to the party!"

  "Oh, no you don’t," Kris roars. "We fucked every night your wife was out of town. You promised, Henry. You said you’d leave her."

  Gisele’s haunted gaze meets mine. "Is it true?"

  I nod. "Yes."

  A heart-wrenching sob echoes through the lounge. It twists inside me like a knife in my chest.

  "Don’t fucking touch me!" Gisele screams, slapping Henry’s arm away. She runs to the women’s bathroom.

  Saffie follows Henry, red-faced and furious. "Are you kidding me?"

  Henry rounds on her. "Mind your own business!"

  "You cheated on her." Her voice is thick with disapproval. "With your best friend’s girlfriend, no less! I can’t believe you’d do something like this."

  As much as I love seeing her lay into him for what he deserves, I should try to defuse the situation. "Saffie, it’s not worth it."

  She gapes at her brother, who has nothing to say. Instead he glares at me. "Thanks a lot."

  "Seriously?" I laugh. "You’re blaming me for this?"

  I gaze at the people gathered around. Looks like our drama bomb went off unnoticed, probably due to the club beats vibrating the floor.

  He points at me. "You let her inside. You’ve wanted this to happen for ages."

  Tired of being ignored, Kris walks in between us. "I am sick of you guys fighting. I want to know who will take care of me when the baby comes."

  Fuck her.

  Fuck them both.

  I grab Saffie and pull her away from the scene. I need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like throw a fist through the wall. She presses to my side, heart beating against my arm.

  "Where the hell do you think you’re going?" Henry shouts.

  "This is your mess, asshole," I shout over my shoulder. "You clean it up."

  A cloud of hatred blinds my gaze as I charge forward, the only link to my sanity squeezed in my hand. We burst through the back exit, Saffie stumbling along in her high heels. The streets are already flooded with college kids ready for a night out. Only when Saffie yelps in pain do I realize I’m dragging her.

  "Sorry," I say, slowing down.

  She gives me a frightened look. "Um—are you okay? That was intense."

  I don’t know how I feel. "I’m relieved, I guess. That Gisele knows."

  "I’m still processing it. God, this is just awful. I—why didn’t you ever tell her that her husband slept with your girlfriend?"

  "Because it’s not my goddamn place. He should have done it." Sighing, I squeeze her hand. "Are you okay?"

  "Fuck. This is such a shock." She draws in a shaking breath. "I can’t believe it. I am so sorry."

  Her anger on my behalf makes me want to kiss her. "You’re more upset about it than I am."

  "How’s that possible?"

  Because I’ve got something much better. You. "It happened months ago. I’m angry because she chose the most public venue to drop this drama bomb, and the last thing I wanted was for Gisele to find out like this."

  "She must be so humiliated." Saffie runs a hand through her hair. "Why didn’t you tell the whole world the moment you found out? You could’ve destroyed his career with the Grizzlies."

  "I don’t want to do that, Saffie."

  "Oh my God." Her voice rises in a shrill whisper. "That’s why we’re fucking around, isn’t it?"

  What? "No."

  She goes rigid. "You went after me the first day I arrived."

  I grab her shoulders. "Judge me by my actions, Saff. Not by what you think I’m thinking. You have no idea what I’ve been through."

  "You pulled that stunt with the party the night befor
e I was coming. Since the beginning, you wanted to rub it in. Didn’t you?" My silence condemns me, and Saffie’s beautiful face breaks like Gisele’s did. "You’re a bastard, Grayson."

  "Maybe, but I can’t stand the lies anymore. I don’t give a shit about him. I want you."

  "How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

  "Because I care about you." I touch her chin, her skin gliding under my fingers. "Deep down, you know that."

  Saffie rips away from my grasp, tears glistening her cheeks. I started this without regard to the fallout because I needed her to feel whole again. Instead I hate myself for causing an ounce of grief in her body.

  I’ll fix it.

  I have to.

  10

  Saffie

  A full-body punching bag hangs from the ceiling, and my fists radiate with pain. The hard leather absorbs my blow with barely a tremor. Fuck, it’s like striking a concrete wall. I wring my knuckles, my eyes tearing up from the ache. Damn. I’ve seen them go at it on this thing. Are my hands that soft?

  I thought fifteen minutes of hammering would be a good outlet for my anger, but all it gives me is a pounding ache in my wrists to match the one in my head. I was so pissed I couldn’t fall asleep. Rage kept me tossing the whole night until I gave up and wandered through the house.

  I grab a pair of discarded boxing gloves and slip them on, wrapping the Velcro around my hands. I pummel the bag. It trembles. I hit it harder. The leather sways an inch.

  He lied.

  SLAM.

  Used me.

  My knuckles scream with another punch.

  I suspected he was an asshole and slept with him anyway. God, I even let myself get attached. I poured my soul out to him like an idiot, and he sat there and listened as though he gave a shit. Henry warned me, but thinking about my brother brings a fresh wave of rage.

  He was the biggest disappointment.

  I work myself into a sweat, hammering the goddamn bag with my elbows, knees, anything. Until a shadow grows over my body and a hand grips the chains, stilling the bag’s movements. I turn around.

  A man who I wish I could banish from my thoughts stands behind me, a small grin playing on his handsome face. His deep blues shine with amusement. "Who are you trying to kill? Me or your brother?"