Bad Roommate: Never Room With A Player

by Terry Towers

  Table Of Contents

  Bad Roommate

  Moist

  Moist. Wet. Steamy.

  That’s what I’m paid to get women every night.

  Horn them up and then send them home to their spouse or vibrator, whatever their satisfaction tool of choice is.

  My job is done when they walk out the door of the club giggling, flushed, and excited.

  It’s just a bonus I get paid extremely well to make it happen.

  Dancing isn’t my lifelong dream. It’s a means to an end.

  At least it was until she came into the club with a group of her screaming, drunk friends.

  Shy and reserved, she caught my attention straight away as she tried to keep her eyes diverted from the action on the stage.

  My intention was to open her up and pull her from her shell.

  I didn’t expect for her to flip my whole f*cking world upside down.

  Contact Information

  Description:

  Never room with a playboy. Words to live by. Unfortunately, I seemed to have missed that memo. When Carrington Anderson shows up on my doorstep applying to become my roommate, I’m immediately shook. He doesn’t remember who I am, but I sure as hell remember him.

  He’d broken my heart and been part of the reason my high school years had been complete and utter torture for me. I still dealt with the emotional and mental damage high school had inflicted upon my psyche.

  Now ten years later, a hundred and fifty pounds lighter and adorned with more tattoos than a sailor, I wasn’t even close to being the same girl I’d been back then. The girl I used to be died a long time ago.

  I thought I could resist his charms this time, but I was sorely mistaken. As we got to know each other all over again, I feared he’d destroy my heart a second time around.

  Bad Roommate

  By

  Terry Towers

  Copyright Notice

  Bad Roommate

  by Terry Towers

  Published by Terry Towers

  Soft and Hard Romantic Publishing

  Copyright © 2021 Terry Towers

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: terrytowers@hotmail.com

  Cover by Sylvia Frost

  www.thebookbrander.com

  Printed in Canada

  1st Edition

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  Chapter 1

  Felicity

  Oh my God! I groaned inwardly, sinking back into the overstuffed, navy plush sofa. My pure black cane corso mastiff, Misty, who’d taken up the vast majority of the sofa, lazily opened her chocolate-brown eyes, looking up at me with her head tilting slightly to the left.

  “I don’t want one either, believe me. But rent in New York is expensive and an apartment that will take a dog your size is even more expensive. So this is kinda your fault - really. We can’t afford the bills on our own for much longer. I’m running through my savings quicker than I’d like,” I found myself explaining even though I knew she wouldn’t understand a word. “Long story short… We need a new roommate.”

  I sighed. Twenty-eight years old and still needing a roommate. It wasn’t where I expected my life to be headed when I graduated from high school. I had dreams of marriage and a baby and the white picket fence just outside the city. But as it turns out, we don’t always get what we want in life.

  My doorbell rang. Looking down at my watch, I frowned. This Carrington dude was fifteen minutes late for his interview – he didn’t give me a last name in his email. Though his email address started with playboy4ever, so I wasn’t expecting much – no doubt a douche. Considering only two of the five scheduled for today had shown up, I’d give him half marks for at least making an appearance and not wasting my time. The people I met yesterday were complete disasters.

  The buzzer sounded again.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re late and now I’m the one expected to rush… Not looking good for you so far buddy,” I muttered more to myself than to the dog who didn’t bother to join me in the walk across the room and to the intercom.

  “Yes,” I said, pressing the button and waiting for a reply.

  There was a pause and then, “This is Carrington. I’m here to do a meet and greet for an apartment.”

  Pressing the talk button, I replied, “Come on up. Fifteenth floor, apartment 1521.” My index finger lingered on the talk button before hitting the button to buzz him up, just long enough for me to take notice of the fact that I was long overdue to have my nails done, the white gel polish had grown out a solid quarter of an inch. It’s crazy how easily you can lower your standards for your looks when you weren’t out hunting for a man. Aside from going to the gym downstairs and my daily run, who’d I have to impress, the clerk at the convenience store down the street?

  As I waited at the door for him to arrive, I felt a wave of nerves. This had to work out, I couldn’t handle many more of these waste-of-time interviews. On the other side of the door, I faintly heard his footsteps coming down the hallway, however, I waited at the door for him to knock and allowed the span of a couple beats before twisting the knob and pulling it open to avoid looking too anxious.

  At 5’2, I was always shorter than most other adults but as I swung the door open, my line of sight focused on the broad chest of a man that had to be 6’2, maybe even 6’3. My eyes traveled up his broad chest with a black cotton t-shirt stretched across it, to a handsome face with a couple days’ worth of scruff.

  That’s when it struck me.

  I knew this man. Just looking at him made me tremble inside as a slew of old memories I’d rather have forgotten about rushed through my mind. It had been a long time since I’d last seen him, not since high school, but there was a point in time – a long time ago - I’d known him quite well.

  “Carrington…” I blinked hardly believing my fucking eyes. “Carrington Anderson? Are you fucking kidding me?” Shaking my head, I took a step back from his massive, sexy as sin body. He even smelled amazing, the intoxicating scent of his cologne drifted to me, teasing my nostrils.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared down at me, a weak smile on his lips. “Do I know you?”

  I wasn’t surprised he hadn’t recognized me. I hadn’t seen him since high school and I’d changed a lot since then, including losing well over a hundred pounds and dyeing my naturally dark hair to platinum blond. The array of colorful rainforest tattoos littering both my arms were also very new additions. Some would argue my insane need to modify myself had a lot of do my lack of self-esteem through years of mental and emotional torture at the hands of my classmates.

  They wouldn’t be wrong. I spent a lot of time and money to rid myself of the girl I used to be to become the woman I was today.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him who I was, Connie Felicity Boyce. Formally, Connie the Cow as my high school peers had called me. Oh, the good old days. Something held me back though. I’d been going by Felicity Boyce for years now.

  Clearing my throat, I took a step back and shook my head. For whatever reason, I didn’t want him knowing he used to know me. “Sorry, I mixed up who was coming at what time. I…” Hoping he wouldn’t give it much thought I waved him inside, closing the door behind him.

  Did I really want to live with this asshat? He was part of the reason my high school life had been so horrible. He crushed me and it hadn’t even fazed him.

  My eyes scanned his broad ba
ck and dipped lower. He had one seriously fine ass. Sincerely, you could bounce a damned nickel off it.

  Misty stretched, placing her front paws onto the floor and slowly pulled herself from the sofa, casually crossed the living room to greet Carrington, her bobbed tail wagging happily for some pats – traitor.

  “Big dog.” Reaching down, he gave her a few pats on the head.

  “Yes, she’s getting old so she’s not very energetic anymore – not that she’d ever been all that active to begin with.”

  His gaze shifted from the dog to me and he smiled. His smile lit up his entire face, an amused twinkle in his dark blue eyes.

  I’d always admired how gorgeous his eyes were, an alluring deep sapphire blue. The type of eyes you’d lose yourself into if you didn’t watch yourself.

  Connie the Cow… Connie the Cow. A voice at the back of my head chimed in – mocking me. He’d been one of those bullies. He’d never tormented me directly, but he never attempted to stop the ridicule. Had he tried to stop it then, they would’ve listened to him. My senior year of high school would’ve gone much differently – all he had to do was say stop. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t because then people might’ve remembered we’d dated the summer before our freshman year of high school and judged him for it.

  Connie the Cow.

  So he didn’t, he allowed the torment.

  As much as I would’ve liked to simply let it go and move on, my high school years had affected me in ways that lingered a decade later. Those years had broken me mentally and it had taken a long time to rebuild myself.

  “I can live with that.” He gave Misty another pat on the head before surveying our surroundings and nodding. “Nice place. The ad said it was a two-bedroom?”

  “Umm. Y-yes…” Giving myself a mental kick, I led him past the kitchen, small dining room area and into the living room. Crossing the room, I opened the blinds. “We’ve got an excellent view of the park.” I shrugged. “It’s not Central Park or anything, but it’s nice nonetheless if you like to jog or to relax with a picnic… Or whatever. The greenspace is nice either way.” Placing my hands on my hips, I glanced up at him. How long would it take for him to recognize me? Despite all the physical changes in me, there was a very good chance he’d figure it out on his own – eventually. He’d just need to come across a yearbook or old high school photo. Luckily, I hated the way I looked back then so all photos of me were tucked away in albums or boxes in the closet and were never looked at.

  “Great.” His eyes scanned the horizon. “Loving it already.”

  “I’ll show you the extra room. It’s not huge or anything. Just a room.” Leading him to the bedroom situated across from mine next to the bathroom, I opened the door and stepped aside allowing him entry.

  As he swept past me his elbow lightly grazed my breast, sending a little shiver through me. Inhaling sharply, I took a step backwards distancing myself from him. Fuck, maybe the problem was I hadn’t been laid in what felt like forever. Had to be for me to get shivers over Carrington fucking Anderson.

  Why the hell I was showing him the apartment instead of kicking his ass out was beyond me. It’s just the other candidates had been so questionable in more ways than one. At least he seemed normal.

  He’s a prick, but at least he’s a normal prick.

  Carrington nodded as he slowly turned. “This would do. Room for a queen-sized bed and a dresser. What more could a single guy ask for, right?”

  “Suppose so. Do you expect to have plenty of company?”

  He grinned his gaze pinning me. “Would that be an issue?”

  “I wasn’t planning on getting a male roommate. The only reason I’m considering it is because my last roommate slept with my boyfriend so figured a male roommate would be a better fit.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. For what it’s worth, the guy was a fool to do that to a woman as stunning as you are.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks. “Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.”

  “Did it all work out? With your boyfriend? Still together?”

  Cocking a brow up at him, I laughed. Though the chuckle was more over my stupidity than the hilarity of the situation. It hadn’t been funny at all, just another blow to my fragile ego.

  “Yes, it’s going great,” I answered dryly, rolling my eyes.

  “I bet. So single and strictly monogamous, that’s your deal?”

  “It’s not yours?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, well. I like to keep my doors wide open. Life is too short, ya know?”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I eyed him for a minute. “Well, we’re nearing thirty, there comes a point when finding your happily ever after should be a priority.”

  “A couple years to go before thirty, just saying.”

  “If that helps you sleep at night. Let’s chat for a few minutes if you don’t mind?” Spinning on my heel, I left the room and settled myself onto the sofa waiting for him to follow behind.

  This wasn’t high school. This was adulthood. We were on even ground. In fact, I had the advantage because I had something he wanted and needed – a place to stay. Apartments in this area were hard to come by. The realization still hadn’t eased me as my gaze followed him as he made his way across the room to sit next to me.

  “What do you want to know?” He shot that sweet, sexy smile at me again. I remembered that smile, it made me swoon back then and a decade later, it still had an effect on me. “I’m an open book.”

  Just kick him out. This is insane. Get rid of the asshole, the voice in the back of my mind chimed in. It’s not like you’ll be able to live with him! Having him here brought back bad vibes. Vibes I didn’t need, especially when I’d tried so hard to move on.

  But I ignored the voice.

  “What do you do for a living? Should I expect a parade of women here? I’m not overly comfortable with a hoard of women coming over each night. I value my privacy. I’d rather not have the hassle of keeping all of the names straight.”

  His head jerked back and a roar of laughter erupted from him. “Just because I’m not the kind of guy that relishes the thought of a serious relationship doesn’t mean I’m a player.”

  When I cast him a skeptical look. “That’s not what your email handle says.”

  Chuckling, I could’ve sworn I noticed a hint of a blush appear on his cheeks then fade just as quickly. “That email was made a long time ago. I just never bothered to get a new one, less embarrassing one.” When I raised a skeptical brow he continued, “I promise, I’ll be discreet.”

  “And occupation?”

  “I’m an artist, though a struggling one. I just started a gig tattooing at a shop not too far from here. The money isn’t great yet, which is why I’m looking to share a place.” He looked down at my heavily tattooed arms. “Nice ink by the way.”

  I looked down at the tattoos that I hardly knew were there anymore, they were a part of me now. I nodded. “Thanks. The artists were amazing to work with.” Clearing my throat, I straightened on the sofa. “This is temporary then?”

  “No. If the situation works with us then I’d like this to be a permanent thing. I’m not looking for Miss Right or anything of the sort, so moving out isn’t something I have any intentions of doing anytime soon.”

  My eyes scanned him for a moment. He’d always been a good-looking guy, but the additional years had given him a more chiseled, mature look. His jawline was sharp with a dimpled chin. I could only imagine how many women he had lined up. I’d bet his phone was filled with girls’ numbers. Hell, even though I hated him, I still felt an attraction towards him. It didn’t help that he'd worn a cologne that drew me to him with its fresh, woodsy scent.

  In fact, flashes of how good it’d felt when he’d kiss and hold me all those years ago came racing to the forefront of my mind. I’d foolishly thought it would be forever. But I suppose many girls feel their first boyfriend and love would be the one. Part of the teenage girl daydream. It was never reality, but at the time it
was easy to forget that.

  Damn. Sliding back on the sofa a tad, I attempted to distance myself from the temptation.

  “Look… Felicity…” He placed a hand on my shoulder, the heat from his hand radiating through me, making me feel all warm and cozy inside. “I suspect you have reservations. I get that, so I’ll level with ya. I need a place and it’s not easy to find a good roommate. I’ve had my share of bad ones. I need quiet to work on my art and being new at tattooing, I’d be at the shop more often than not. I won’t eat all your food and you’ll hardly know I’m here most of the time.”

  He looked so earnest, nothing like the egotistical piece of shit I’d once known. People changed; they changed all the time. I changed over the years. Maybe I shouldn’t fault him for what happened to me in high school. We were adults now. Fuck, he didn’t even recognize the new me now. It had been nearly ten years. Maybe I just needed to let bygones be bygones and move on, that’s what mature adults did.

  I needed a roommate sooner rather than later and he was the best of the bunch I’d interviewed so far. It’d be stupid to allow petty teenaged issues to get in the way of paying the bills and passing up on a potentially good roommate.

  Slowly with a tingle of apprehension in the back of my mind, I stretched my hand out for him. “You’ve got yourself a new roommate, if you want to move in that is.”

  A smile crept across his lips as he accepted my hand, his large hand wrapping around my considerably smaller one giving it a firm shake. “Would moving in tomorrow be too soon?”

  My heart accelerated at the thought of him living here so soon. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. Tomorrow wouldn’t give me much time to clear my head of the fact that I’d be living with the first boy that broke my heart. But at the same time, having additional time meant I’d obsess over the situation for longer than necessary. I just needed to treat this like a Band-Aid, one rip and straight off. Forcing a smile to my lips, I replied, “Not at all. Roomie.”