by Claire Adams
BAD BOY ROOMIE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
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Chapter 1
Hannah
I felt sure that looking at my reflection was going to be a mistake, but I didn’t care. I used my phone to look, ignoring the many unanswered texts I had. I sighed.
I was a mess. My hair was a nightmare, and my eyes were wet and swollen from crying. My t-shirt was newly stained by dripping ice cream, which I had been eating off and on all day as I sat in my apartment, alone. I was wrapped in a huge blanket on the couch, and my attention was on the sappy movie I had playing on the TV (the third romantic movie in a row of my depressing binge-viewing).
Normally, I don’t do any of those things: I rarely cry. I don’t spill food, much less ice cream, which I rarely eat. I don’t usually watch movies alone, and I don’t watch cheesy romantic movies all that often, either.
My blanket cocoon was necessary, though, and not just for my own feelings of personal comfort. I lived in Madison, Wisconsin, and it was early January. Snow was everywhere, and with the winds, it felt unnaturally cold out.
About a week earlier, I broke up with my boyfriend, Jared. Jared happened to live in the same apartment complex as me, which is how we met. Actually, he lived in lots of places for some reason. He was wealthy, and yet, he loved to rub it in. The bastard had the top floor of our apartment complex, the penthouse suite all to himself. We dated for six months. That may not seem like an incredible amount of time, but it felt longer.
I told him at Thanksgiving that I loved him. I’m not sure, but I think that might have been the catalyst for our breakup. He was always a little anxious, but me telling him how I felt did something to him. If we got into any little argument or if I chose a girls’ night out instead of binge-watching shows with him, he would always ask, “Do you really love me?” At first, when he asked, it seemed cute, almost like giddiness. But, after several more times, I began to see the change.
It all eventually led to him cheating on me over Christmas and telling me about it on New Year’s Day, minutes after midnight. For some reason, I didn’t ask who the girl was, and I really didn’t care. It was painful to leave him, but it was oddly freeing.
So, maybe it wasn’t love with Jared. But, I thought it was for a little while.
I knew love was real, though; I had it once before. Many years ago. As powerful and real as love is, it doesn’t always last. Back then, I fell out of love and was taught a lesson I never wanted to learn. It was that lesson that kept me scared for a long time. When I met Jared, I let myself believe love was real for me again. Until it wasn’t.
It was my unending series of thoughts that kept me secluded inside all day that day. I called out sick from work, and that lie wasn’t far from the truth. I felt sick. My heart ached, and my stomach felt sick. I didn’t know if it was from the breakup or the ice cream.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
My first instinct told me it was Jared. I had only seen him once since the breakup. It was an awkward, silent encounter outside, and we were surrounded by other people. It had only been a few days since the breakup, and I was used to him coming over almost every day before. Still, I knew I didn’t want to see him. He was the last person I wanted to suddenly appear at my door.
It wasn’t even that I couldn’t handle seeing Jared; I had a pretty good track record of staying friendly and civil with my ex-boyfriends. It wasn’t even because I looked like a disaster. I just wanted to be alone, and considering Jared was the cause of my seclusion, he was the last person I wanted to see.
Fortunately, when I peered through the peephole, it wasn’t him. It was Sawyer.
I knew that his name was Sawyer, but that was about it. He lived next door to me. I didn’t know him. We’d never spoken except to mumble a polite “hello” whenever we passed each other in the hallway. I didn’t think of him exactly as the model neighbor. There was always an insane amount of noise coming from his apartment. It wasn’t just because he and his roommate threw a lot of parties, which they did. All the time. But sometimes, they would just be listening to music or playing video games… at the highest volume imaginable.
Those weren’t the only loud sounds I would hear coming from that apartment. I had been kept up more than a few times because of Sawyer’s sexual antics. There were a few occasions when I would witness him bringing home a different woman every few days.
I wanted to confront him about the late-night noises, sexual or otherwise, but I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. However, it seemed an opportunity had literally presented itself on my doorstep. Through the peephole, I was able to take a moment and look him over.
Sawyer was not as tall as Jared, but he was close. Despite him wearing a brown leather jacket that concealed his muscles, you could tell he kept in good shape. He was built and strong. He had brown hair and brown eyes (which the jacket helped illuminate), and he wore an almost-constant grin. Until then, it hadn’t registered with me just how handsome he was.
He scratched his ear, and for a moment, I saw what looked like part of a tattoo running down his arm. I didn’t judge anyone based on the principle of getting a tattoo, but I was really hoping that it wasn’t something overtly offensive or ugly.
Then, I wondered why I was hoping that his tattoos were nice.
I checked my reflection again on my phone. I smoothed down my hair, but it was hopeless. I gave up and opened the door.
“Hi,” I said to Sawyer.
“Hey, 211,” he replied in a cool voice.
“Hey… 212?” I said, chuckling.
“That’s me. Sawyer Smith.”
He extended his hand, and I took it. His handshake was firm but somehow gentle.
“I’m Hannah Stone. Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Nice to meet you, Hannah,” he said. “So, normally I’m not the kind of guy who just… invites himself into a stranger’s apartment, but would you mind if I talked to you for just a minute? It would only be for a minute, I just… it’s fucking cold, you know?”
I looked back into my apartment at the evidence of my sad day.
“Sorry. Excuse my language,” he added quickly.
“No, it’s fine,” I replied. “It’s just that my place is a real mess right now and… I don’t think I can handle being judged right now.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, there’s no way that it could look worse than mine,” he said with a soft laugh. “That’s actually… do you think maybe I could come in just for a minute? It’ll be fast, I promise.”
I relented, but only because what he said was true: it was fucking cold. I stepped back, and he entered, glancing around at the disorder that was my apartment.
“What can I do for you?” I asked him.
“The landlord is kicking me out,” he stated. He waited for a response, but in truth, I didn’t know what to say. I was surprised he hadn’t been told to leave sooner.
“Yeah,” he continued. “My roommate threw a party for New Year�
��s Eve. You probably heard it; it got pretty wild. They trashed the place, put holes in the walls and the floor. It’s unreal, actually.”
“Sorry to hear that,” I said.
“Yeah. He gave us forty-eight hours before we have to be out. He said we had to have all our stuff out by then and whatever is still there gets thrown into Lake Mendota.”
“Legally speaking, I don’t think he can do that.”
“I thought that, too, but… the landlord’s kind of…”
“…crazy?” I finished.
“I was going to say he was a maniac, but that’s close enough,” he laughed.
It was true; the landlord was an extremely unusual character. I never spoke to him, but I saw him around a lot. He always looked like he was waiting for something bad to happen.
“I’ve always said it: short guys,” Sawyer said, “Don’t mess with them because they are always angry.”
I genuinely laughed at his comment. It was also true that the landlord was short and balding. Now that Jared mentioned it, he did often look red in the face too.
“Well, I don’t think that plan would work anyway,” I said. “Lake Mendota’s frozen right now.”
“Nice. Well, maybe he’ll just burn all my shit then—stuff, sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize every time,” I said, smiling.
“Sweet,” he said, nodding. He looked at his feet for a brief moment, before looking back at me. “So, the problem I have, of course, is finding a new place to live.”
I froze. “Where the hell is he going with this?” I thought to myself.
“And… since I haven’t exactly had time to hunt for a new place, I was hoping—no pressure, but still—I was wondering if it was at all possible for me to crash at your place for the night. Just for the night! I’ll be out by the morning.”
My initial reaction was to apologize and say no. He must have seen that train of thought entering the station.
“I’ll pay you if you’d like. I’m just thinking—because it’s easier, you know? I can just scoot my stuff over here really quick, and that way, I can spend the whole night looking for my new apartment. When the sun comes up, I’ll be out; cross my heart.”
I realized why a lot of women probably liked him. Even though we were still strangers, he seemed unusually confident and smooth. Especially considering what he was asking for, but there was a part of me that wondered whether it was just cocky arrogance.
It was hard for me to judge properly since I was busy with an internal, ethical battle. If what he said was true and he was indeed getting kicked out, regardless of the reasons why, I knew I’d feel bad about turning him away. Although, since I didn’t know him, I wasn’t sure what to believe. I felt good vibes from him, but I’d been fooled by attractive men before.
I didn’t like the imagery of him going around the rest of the second floor and asking all of our neighbors if he could have a place to crash. I disliked the thought because it just seemed so embarrassing. Since I didn’t know him, I wasn’t sure why I cared if he had a damaged ego, especially considering that ego was surely huge by that point.
“I won’t even use your Wi-Fi; I’ll look for apartments on my phone,” he said.
“You can use my Wi-Fi. And, you can stay here for the night. You can sleep in the spare bedroom.”
“Oh man, thank you so much, Hannah!”
He wrapped me in a tight embrace. It was as if he had transferred his sincerity onto me, because at that moment, I didn’t feel any regret about my decision.
“You’re welcome,” I said after he let me go. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to help you move your shit.”
“None taken, I wasn’t going to ask!” he said with peppiness in his voice. “This is so great. Thank you again, so much. You’re amazing.”
He left quickly. Within the hour, he had moved all of his belongings into the spare room. We barely said a word to each other. To ease tension and provide an ambient soundtrack, I put some weird reality show on the TV. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but then again, I wasn’t exactly paying attention.
“Hey, Hannah, what’s your Wi-Fi password?”
I hadn’t even noticed him hovering near the couch.
“Ringo0615”, I answered.
“After the Beatle?”
“No, I had a dog named Ringo when I was a kid,” I said. “But he was named after the Beatle, so I guess that sort of counts.”
We laughed. I bit my lip.
“So, do you have a job?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I’m a mechanic at Lightning Fast,” he replied. Lightning Fast Car Repair was an auto-shop chain in Wisconsin.
“Oh wow, that’s cool,” I said genuinely.
“Yeah, I have to go to work tomorrow, actually,” he said. “So, I’ll just camp out in the guest room and look for apartments, call it a night.”
I smiled and nodded. He turned to head back to the room, but stopped.
“Were you okay earlier when I first got here?” he asked me. “I didn’t want to be nosy, I just…”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I just wasn’t feeling that well today. Thanks for asking.”
“No, thank you,” he said. “You’re really saving my life here. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
I heard the door close. I waited to go to bed until I felt sure that he was asleep in the room. I looked at the coffee table, spotting the spare key that had temporarily belonged to Jared. My earlier ethical battle began to recommence.
Chapter 2
Sawyer
I woke up at seven-thirty, an hour later than I planned. I checked my phone, and sure enough, I had turned the damn alarm off in my sleep.
I looked around the bedroom, taking it all in. The bed was far comfier than the bed I left behind for the landlord to toss out onto the frozen lake. It was cold in this room, just like it was in the rooms next door. I felt a little better knowing that it wasn’t just my own apartment getting lackluster heat.
I was hoping that I could get most of my things into the Camaro before Hannah woke up, but I had no idea when she usually woke up. During past mornings, I would hear her front door opening and closing, so I thought she had a regular job or that she went to school. I didn’t want to think about it; I just knew I wanted to bounce before she could worry about me overstaying my welcome. I had no intention of squatting there any longer than I had to.
I opened the door and smelled coffee. I decided not to be angry with myself for sleeping through the alarm. I would simply try to make a smooth exit. I grabbed a suitcase and a bag and stepped out into the living room.
I looked into the kitchen and saw Hannah by the stove. She had definitely taken a shower since last night. She was also wearing a stylish buttoned-down shirt and long skirt. She barely looked like the girl I met the night before. I thought she was hot then, but seeing her that morning was enough to take my imagination to a realm of scandalous places.
She turned around, holding a mug. “Morning.”
“Hey, good morning,” I said back to her.
“Sleep okay?” she asked me.
“Best sleep I’ve had in ages to be perfectly honest! It was awesome.”
“You don’t have to move your stuff out right this minute, you know,” she said. “You could have breakfast.”
“No, that’s all right. Really, I’m grateful you let me spend the night. I’m not taking up any more of your hospitality.”
“Did you find a place with an apartment available?”
“Uh…” I felt like a dick, but I didn’t want to settle for a shithole apartment, and I didn’t want to risk moving into an expensive place and opening myself up to another living crisis. “Not exactly, no.”
She bit her lip. She looked incredibly sexy doing it, though I’m not sure she meant to.
“I thought about it,” she said, “You’d have all your things sitting in your car while you go to work, right?”
“I guess
so, yeah.”
“Well… I’m not opposed to you staying here for another day or two,” she said to me. “Until you find a new place. If you want.”
I wondered if she was having similar thoughts as I was at that moment. It was a little early for me to get a read on her, but seeing the shift from me inviting myself in to her inviting me to stay gave me a surge of confidence.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “That’s such an amazing offer; you’re not offering me this because you feel bad or obligated, right?”
“Why would I feel bad? I don’t even know you,” she said matter-of-factly. She smiled politely and sipped her coffee.
“Well, I would totally take you up on that, if you were serious.”
“You can stay until Friday,” she said. “I also have a spare key you could use. It’s there on the coffee table if you want it.”
I put my belongings back into the spare bedroom and took the spare key. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more: her extended invite or that the invite included a key to her place. Girls had given me keys before, but those circumstances usually came after a few dates or a few fantastic sexual experiences. Despite my sudden surge of confidence, I was still wrestling with what to say.
“You really are amazing. Thanks, Hannah.”
“You’re welcome, Sawyer. I hope you find a really nice place.”
She finished her coffee, rinsed the mug, and went off towards her room.
“So, where do you work?” I asked her.
“Omicron Office Supplies,” she answered. “We sell mostly paper and printers. It’s really boring.”
It did sound boring, but not every job is as fulfilling as working with vehicles.
“Nah, that’s not too bad,” I said. “My mom was a cashier at a supermarket for ten years. That sounds a lot more boring than selling paper. You probably make a commission, don’t you?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty good. I’m hoping this year will be even better than the last.”
