Stepping out of my room I clasp my watch onto my wrist. It’s nearing nine o’ clock when I stride across the apartment to Lou’s room.
I rap my knuckles against the door. “Yeah?” Her voice is muffled.
“Do you need a ride to the party?”
She opens the door wearing a white robe with a unicorn hoodie. Her blonde hair hangs down past her breasts in curled precision.
“My date is picking me up.” She clasps her hand to the top of her robe, keeping her breasts from spilling out and I try not to choke on my tongue when I realize she’s probably completely naked under it.
“Your date.” I chew on the words, not liking how they taste in my mouth. “Right. Well, I’m going to go then. I’ll … uh … see you there.”
She flashes me one of her brilliant smiles. “Text me the address.”
“Of course.” I duck my head in response and she eases her door closed.
I blow out a pent up breath that puffs my cheeks. My attraction to Lou needs to take a hike. I can’t jeopardize our living arrangement just because I want to know what the curves of her body would feel like beneath mine.
In the past, if I was drawn to someone, I pursued it. But between Lou being my roommate on top of my vow of celibacy, I can’t act on my infatuation.
I won’t ruin a good thing just because my dick is trying to steer my brain.
Shaking my head, I grab my keys and head out, hoping I can get a couple of drinks in me before she arrives.
Maybe, by then, I’ll have someone else to lust after. If nothing else, I’ll at least be too drunk to care.
* * *
Music rages and bodies gyrate to the techno beat blowing through the speakers of the old Victorian home in the center of downtown. Alcohol flows through the veins of almost every person and the small hint of pot permeates the air too.
I keep telling myself I’m not looking for Lou as I down another beer, but I am.
It’s pathetic how much I want to see what kind of guy she’s with. It shouldn’t matter to me. This crush of mine is ridiculous, but I feel irrationally angry at the thought of seeing her hanging onto some other guy.
“Man, you look miserable.” Kit Jacobson claps me on the shoulder. He’s a linebacker on the team and not one of my friends. I shrug off his touch. “And no one should be miserable on their birthday, not with free booze and hot chicks checking you out. Except Danika,” he points her out in the crowd. “What’d you do to her? Tap that and leave her dry? That chick’s got it bad for you.”
“Didn’t give her what she wanted.” I lift the red solo cup to my lips, the taste of cheap keg beer sliding across my tongue. “I’m sure she hates my guts now.”
“You mean to tell me you turned down that sweet piece of ass?” He pushes his dark hair off his sweaty face. “I’d love to get a taste of that pussy.” He laughs obnoxiously and bumps his shoulder with mine like I should be laughing with him. I’ve never disrespected the women I’ve been with in the past. I was raised better than that. If I start spewing the stuff Kit says on a regular basis, my mother would rise from the dead to beat my ass until I join her in a grave of my own.
“I need a refill.” I lift my glass, which is pretty much full, not that he can see, and move away before he can respond.
I bleed through the crowd, certain a quarter of the entire university’s students are crammed into the three-story home. There’s barely any space to walk and I’m sure most of the bedrooms are occupied already.
“Yo, Abel,” Laurent King calls out, another player from my team. He pushes his way through the crowd, meeting me at the keg where I pretend to top off my cup. He doesn’t even notice. “Happy birthday, man.” He claps a massive paw on my shoulder. The dude’s hands are the size of dinner plates. At nearly six-foot-nine, it’s impossible not to spot him in a mass.
“Thanks for throwing the party, man.”
“Not a problem, dude. Any excuse for a party.” He smiles, his white teeth stark against his dark skin.
“Tell Hayden, Greg, and Jason thanks from me, too, in case I don’t run into them.”
“Yeah,” he scrubs a hand over his bald head, “pretty sure they’ve already disappeared into their rooms.” He winks, but I already caught his meaning.
Most of my friends and the guys on the team that are seniors have talked about how this is their last year to sow their oats before they settle down. There are a few who’ve had a serious girlfriend and aren’t on the bang-anything-I-can brigade, but they’re mocked endlessly by the other guys.
I keep my mouth shut so I don’t have to listen to the ridiculous bullshit.
Somebody calls out his name and Laurent says his goodbyes before pushing his way through the people swarming the keg in the kitchen.
I head in the opposite direction, several people stopping me for a fist bump, to say hello, or tell me happy birthday. I return each greeting with a smile, appearing completely unbothered.
The hairs on my arms suddenly stand straight up and my eyes shoot across the room, locking on Lou. She hasn’t noticed me yet and she’s laughing at something the guy beside her has said. Her arm is looped through his and another girl stands at her side, laughing with her.
She looks fucking amazing. Her hair is down like it was earlier when I caught her in the robe, but now she’s done her makeup, and changed into a tight pair of jeans with rips down the front, a t-shirt tied into a knot at her hips, and a black leather jacket with some kind of spike things on it.
When she straightens, her eyes find mine in the crowd and she says something to her guests before the three of them move through the throng of people toward me.
I notice several pairs of male eyes trail Lou and her friend as they cross the room and I have the irrational desire to punch every one of them for their lustful gazes, as if I’m not guilty of the same thing.
“Hey.” Lou comes to a stop in front of me. “Nice party.”
“Thanks.” I raise my cup to my lips, swaying on my feet, unsure of what to do.
“This is Miranda.” She indicates her dark-haired friend on her right. “And this is Tanner.” She leans her head on the guy’s shoulder.
He looks vaguely familiar, like maybe we’ve shared a class before or something. He admires Lou in a way that I know means he genuinely likes her.
I hold out my hand to him. “I’m Abel.” I do the same with Miranda, adding, “It’s nice to meet you.” Stepping back, I clear my throat. “Can I get you guys some drinks? The kitchen is pretty packed but I can force my way through.”
Lou shakes her head. “We can find it when we get thirsty. Right now, I want to dance.” She smiles enticingly at Tanner and tugs on his arm. “Come on, dance with me.”
I watch as she pulls him into the living room where most of the sweaty, dancing bodies are glued together. She sways her hips, wrapping one hand behind his neck. The way they move is as if this isn’t new, but in the two weeks we’ve lived together, Lou has never mentioned a boyfriend or anyone named Tanner. It isn’t like I should know much about her in the short time since we’ve met, but I know way less than I thought.
“Why are you looking at my friend like you’re not sure whether you want to grab her and run away with her over your shoulder or storm dramatically from the room like a scorned ex-lover?”
I swivel to face Miranda in front of me. She’s a few inches taller than Lou, just as curvy, with slanted exotic eyes. She stares up at me shrewdly, waiting for a response. When she doesn’t get one, she twists her fingers behind her back, fighting a smile.
“You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?”
I blanch. “No.” I shake my head rapidly. “No, we haven’t. Besides, she has him.”
“Who?” Her brows crease. “Tanner?”
“Yeah, who else would I be talking about?”
She looks like she wants to say something, but she glances from me to where they dance. When she looks back, she doesn’t say a word.
After an awkward moment
of silence, she tilts her head, appraising me. “I have to say, it’s awfully interesting that a guy like you would be interested in girls like us.”
Now it’s my turn to look puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb. Lou and I aren’t model thin. We don’t eat lettuce out of a bag, but might be tempted to eat cake with our bare hands if we’re hungry enough. Guys like you either treat girls us like we’re beneath you, or fuck us and laugh behind our backs.”
“N-No, I wouldn’t,” I stutter, stunned by her words.
“I don’t know you. From what Lou has said about you so far, you seem like a nice enough guy. But if you keep looking at my best friend like you want to lick her like a melting popsicle in the middle of summer, and act on it, only to break her heart, I will punch you in the nuts. They don’t call me Miranda The-Nut-Puncher Hershel for nothing.”
“Does anyone actually call you that?” I move my hands in front of my dick, just in case she decides to blindside me.
“No.” She raises her chin, narrowing her eyes. “But they should. I’m going to get a drink.”
With those words, she brushes past me and down the hallway.
I exhale a sigh, my eyes darting over in Lou’s direction one more time before I leave the room.
It’s a party, I should be having fun, but I’m not.
I head outside onto the deck where there are less people and I can actually get a breath of fresh air. Sitting down on the top step, I stretch my legs out. My cup dangles loosely from my fingers.
“Hey,” a voice says, and I look over to find Alissa, a girl I went out with a few times last year, leaning against the railing.
“Hey.”
She moves away from the railing and joins me on the stairs, smoothing her skirt behind her as she sits down. Her skin is pebbled from the chilly night air.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Her remark is softly spoken. She’s always been a nice girl, not like some I’ve gone out with. She’s on the cheer team, blonde, and leggy, but she’s never hung out with our crowd much, so I’m kind of surprised to see her here. “I guess I owe you a happy birthday.” She smiles, bumping her knee with mine.
I give a soft chuckle, watching lightning bugs flit through the narrow fenced yard. A raucous cacophony of laughter sounds from the house, echoing outside into the night through the screen door.
“Thanks.” I push my hair off my forehead.
“You look like something is weighing on you.” She pulls her long hair over one shoulder, leaning forward.
“I have a lot on my mind. It’s senior year, I have to prepare for graduation.”
“It’s stressful.” She leans back on her elbows, tilting her head toward the sky. “But I have a feeling that’s not what’s on your mind.” She turns to give me a small smile.
“It’s nothing.” I drop my eyes to the step below, staring at the knotted wood and a spot where if someone stepped barefoot they’d undoubtedly get a splinter. Not that any of the guys who live here would care.
“Fine, I get it,” her tone is still light, “you don’t want to talk about it. That’s cool. But if you ever need to, I’m here to listen. I know things between us ended, but I like you as a friend.” She stands up, dusting her skirt off, and squeezes my shoulder as she passes me to head inside.
The scent of cigarette smoke invades my nostrils from some guy in a leather jacket hanging over the railing. I’ve never been able to stand the smell. I have my chain-smoking great-grandma to thank for that, who somehow managed to live until she was one hundred and ten.
I stand and move away from the stairs, heading for the back fence. Draping my arms over it, I gaze across the way at the steep concrete stairs leading up to John Handley High School. It’s the kind of school you see in movies, but not real life, with tall columns and multiple levels. The high school I went to looked like a one-floor hospital compared to this one.
I sense movement, my body instantly reacting to Lou’s presence.
It’s like my body is tuned into the same frequency as hers and when she gets close static rattles my ears.
She leans against the fence, unable to see over like I am, her body brushing mine.
“Why’s the birthday boy out here by his lonesome? I would’ve thought Mr. Popular would be the center of attention.” I hear something rattle and look over to find her dumping three orange Tic-Tacs into the palm of her hand. She pops them onto her tongue and closes her mouth. “Want some?”
“Sure.” I hold out my hand and she taps out three into my hand. I put them in my mouth, looking away from her.
“You didn’t answer me.”
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “This type of thing used to be fun. Getting drunk, letting go, but now it all seems silly to me. I guess I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of being a puppet. Everyone expects a certain thing from me and I’ve followed that line, but I feel like it’s not my path anymore.”
“What is?”
The orange flavor melts over my tongue as my eyes take in her appearance. Her body glows with a light sheen of sweat from dancing, her cheeks rosy, and her hair wild.
“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer, even if it’s no answer at all. “I think I have to discover it in time.”
“Do you like football, or is that another thing that makes you feel like a puppet?”
I shake my head, grinning now. “No, I love football.” I wet my lips with my tongue, trying to think of a way to describe it to her. “I like working hard at practice, building a camaraderie and life-long friendship with my teammates, and nothing compares to the feeling of being on the field come game day. You know, people screaming and shouting your name. There isn’t a rush like it.”
She grins, her eyes crinkling. “I bet it’s a lot like the rush I get when I eat ice cream.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. I think it’s impossible to bask in the sunshine that is Lou and remain sullen.
She leans her hip against the side of the fence and she’s so close to me that if I inhale deeply I’m pretty sure my body will touch hers.
A shadow cascades across her face, cast from the floodlight on the back of the house.
The moment seems to stretch out endlessly, as if it’s waiting for something.
“Your date is probably missing you.” My words disappear in a cloud of air in the cool night.
She tilts her lips, fighting a grin and I notice how prominent the dimples are in her cheeks when she smiles like that.
She reaches out, straightening the collar of my button down and then pats my chest before stepping back. “You’re right. Try to have some fun, all right?”
I swallow and nod, giving her a tight-lipped smile.
She forces one back. I watch her walk away, dodging empty cups littering the yard and God knows what else as she goes.
I didn’t feel lonely before, out here by myself, but now I do.
Lou’s presence fills a void I didn’t even know I had.
12
Lou
“Lou! Lou! Lou!”
“Oomph,” I cry out, as two tiny humans attack my legs and stumble back upon entering the house.
“We missed you!” Matteo clings to my legs while his three-year-old sister tries to push him over so she can have me to herself.
I laugh, bending to ruffle his dark locks. “I saw you three days ago.”
“And that was forever ago,” he drawls.
“Hold me.” Once Isabella realizes she’s not strong enough to push her older brother out of her way she shoves her chubby arms in the air, opening and closing her fists.
I scoop her up and she hugs me tight, burying her face into the skin of my neck.
“I’m so sorry,” their mother says, rocking her one-month-old in her arms. “They just love you so much.”
“It’s not a problem.” I push the door closed behind me with my foot.
I only started babysitting for the Wilson family two weeks ago, but these kids have a
lready weaseled their way into my heart. Babysitting is exhausting, but I also find it rewarding. Kids are fun, and like me, they don’t hold back but say what they want. It’s refreshing.
“You’ve been a lifesaver.” The baby begins to fuss and she looks ready to burst into tears.
I set Bella down and reach for the baby, Cristian, taking him into my arms. He fights against his swaddle, fists flailing.
“Go take a shower, get a nap, whatever you need to do. I’ve got these guys.”
“Lifesaver,” she repeats, giving me a grateful smile before she heads up the curving staircase of the large home.
Matteo tugs on the bottom of my shirt. “Can we watch a movie?”
“Moana!” Bella clasps her hands under her chin, jutting her bottom lip out. Her brown eyes are wide and begging.
“What do you say, Matty? Are you cool with Moana?”
His slender shoulders rise. “Yeah, I guess.”
I grin, because I already know it’s his favorite movie even if he never requests it.
The two children trail me into the carpeted den area where there’s a couch, TV, toys galore, and various items like a changing table and rock ‘n play for the new baby.
I lay Cristian in the rocker and put the movie on for the other two.
The two kids scurry onto the couch, grabbing their blankets and lovey’s, a stuffed dinosaur for Matteo and a unicorn for Bella. Matteo likes to act like a big boy and I find it adorable how despite that, he always wants his blanket and stuffed animal.
“Popcorn?”
I get two head nods in response and smile to myself as I head into the beautiful kitchen. It’s the kind of kitchen I only thought existed in a magazine with sleek marble countertops and black cabinets.
I swipe a bag of popcorn from the pantry and stick it in the microwave, able to keep my eyes on the kids thanks to the open floor plan.
Cristian is getting fussier by the second, and since he’s a pretty easy-going infant, I figure he’s hungry.
Desperately Seeking Roommate Page 8
