by Jolie Day
She volunteered for an animal shelter? Why didn’t that surprise me? That was actually kind of neat. So, that’s why she seemed to be working all the time. Funny how some people used their private time to do something useful and helpful for other people, or animals in this case. It was admirable, to say the least.
Dad and Mom would love her. Inheritance? In the bag, baby.
Rose walked into my place where she took off her boots. I closed the door and dropped my keys in the glass bowl on the entry table, and welcomed her to take a look around. She went to the big glass windows and stood there, staring out at the view.
“My place doesn’t have as nice a view as yours does,” she said. “It’s stunning.”
“Well, even more reason to get excited about being my roommate.” I grabbed a bottle of wine. As I set the glasses on the counter, she walked over, and I filled our respective glasses.
“I guess you know me well enough already,” she said softly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I was just thinking about how I needed a glass of wine. You must have read it on my face.”
“I did. I think it was in Times New Roman, bold, and with an exclamation mark,” I joked. “Or two.”
She smiled, and I saw her body relax. The spark re-entered her eyes. It was small, but it was there. “You know, you could at least have picked a more interesting font,” she said. “I mean Times New Roman? How boring is that?”
“Oh, it is? What type of font are you?”
“You nailed it with the serif. But at least a Garamond. Or a Georgia.”
“Now, come on, Georgia, let’s find you a room.” I put my arm around her shoulders, but regretted the action straight away, because it felt as if I was trying my luck—and maybe trying to cop a feel, as well. Then, I couldn’t just rip it away straight off, or she would’ve thought I was repulsed by touching her. Fuck.
Why was it so difficult with her? Any other girl who got this far into my apartment would’ve had more than my arm around her shoulder by now. With Rose, I had to be careful. But okay, all good, I got this.
She let my arm sit there while I led her over to the bedroom section of the apartment, with our glasses in our hands.
“So,” she started, “Is there any room you haven’t had wild, loud-as-hell sex in?”
I almost choked on my first sip of wine.
Her question caught me by surprise, but it wasn’t hard to answer.
“This one,” I said, pointing to the bedroom in the middle. Then I pointed to the one to the right. “And this one. Mine.”
To the left of what I was already calling Rose’s room in my mind, was a third bedroom for guests. I wasn’t lying about my room being a sex-free zone. The truth was that I’d never actually had sex in my own bedroom—only in the guest room to the left, the living room, and once in the kitchen. I preferred taking girls to the more neutral space, rather than my personal bedroom space. That felt too, well personal. Yes, weird, but that’s how I rolled.
“It’s completely virgin territory,” I continued with a straight face, indicating her room with a sweep of my arm. That sweep also allowed me to move my arm off of her shoulders naturally. Creep-dilemma solved. Smooth. Perfect. As usual.
“Why do I have trouble imagining any virgins ever crossing your threshold, let alone allowing you to get them into the bedrooms,” she asked, the spark in her eyes growing a little as her lips quirked upwards.
“It might’ve happened, without my noticing,” I said. “One might’ve slipped in while the hall door was open.”
Rose actually giggled then.
“Seriously though,” I added, encouraged and gesturing with my head to the middle room. “This guestroom here is a completely sex-free zone. The entire CSI team would find nothing to incriminate me in here.” I couldn’t resist adding that joke. It wasn’t a serious subject, and I felt some humor was perfectly acceptable.
Rose gave me an interrogative look, obviously wondering if I was telling the truth, and then she walked into the room.
I stood leaning against the door frame while she looked around. The room was decorated modernly with a minimalist feel to it. Since it was just a guest room, it had all white linens and accessories, with a white blanket and black lamps.
“It’s pretty big,” she commented.
“It sure is.” I couldn’t help myself as the sexual innuendo threw itself out there. My voice had automatically become low and dark, following my body’s lead.
I could tell by her expression that she knew where I was going with this. She seemed to like it. Wait, really? She liked it? Was there a warm, heavy glow in her eyes?
“Yep. Pretty big,” I said, trying to keep the joke going. “The room I mean.”
Rose turned slowly around, surveying the room, pretending she hadn’t caught the joke, obviously. Or had she? Was that a blush on her face? Had she actually imagined how big my cock was? I bet she had. I wondered what she’d say if she actually saw it.
God, I was hopeless.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
I almost laughed out loud. If only you knew.
Then, I saw the grin on her face. She did catch the joke.
She walked back to me, having had her look around. “Thanks, Miles. I really do appreciate this,” she said.
“Sure. It’s my pleasure, glad you like it. You can redecorate it any way you want. I can give Eunice and Eugenia a call. They can help you.”
She paused and looked at me oddly. “You know what, to be honest, I’m good. I will decorate it myself… I have some fun ideas already.”
Oh I got some fun ideas, too. I didn’t move. I still stood there, in the doorframe. My body didn’t want to move.
Our banter was fun. I liked how close she was standing to me and how her eyes looked into mine. That vanilla shampoo hit my nose, and my senses started to pulsate. She just stood there, too, gazing into my eyes, giving me a captivating smile, enchanting me, giving me signals. For a moment, it seemed as if she was trying to lean in to me—hell yeah!—her eyes drifted from my eyes… to my lips… to my chest.
Of course, I realized only too soon, she was merely trying to leave the room—and then, she slid past me. I wasn’t quick enough to pull back, so, when she did slide past me, her breasts brushed against my chest. I struggled to breathe properly for a second before turning and noticing that her eyes had grown wide. She was blushing profusely. She’d felt it, too.
The accidental tit-graze had sparked a warm feeling of need within me, and I wondered how the hell I was going to survive six fucking months.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “That was an accident. Didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” she said quickly.
Shaking my head at myself and the dirty thoughts I’d had all evening, I cast everything aside.
You idiot.
Yes, she’s giving you mixed signals.
Was I reading them wrong? Yes, you idiot. What was fucking unclear about not wanting to kiss and trying to keep distance?
What it boiled down to is: She was fucking right.
Rose was about to move in here, and things would only get more complicated. I couldn’t try and get in her sexy-as-fuck jeans. It’d just cause tension, and then we’d be stuck with the contract and all, living together after we’ve banged—imagine she liked it and hoped for more? No. Impossible. Then we’d fight and all would go to hell, including my inheritance. Thanks, but no thanks.
My dick started to weep, loudly, painfully.
Nope. Shut up. Not touching that.
My buddy would just need to sit it out for six months. Huh? Hang on, no sex for six months? That’s what I’d agreed to, earlier on?
Had I been out of my fucking mind? Is that even humanly possible?
I imagined only jerking off for six months.
Am I gonna be okay?
I stood there. Baffled.
Damon had been right all along. He’d said it was a shitty idea. It was. Hell, how
did I not think of that?
Fuck.
At least Dad couldn’t say I wasn’t dedicated. I was clearly ready to endure hell for a little piece of paper.
“So,” I began, unable to focus. What did I want to say?
“Um, let’s sit on the balcony for a while,” I heard her say. “You know, get some air…”
“Good thinking,” I motioned for her to go ahead. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
When she was out of sight, I leaned against the kitchen counter and began scolding myself, trying to forget the shine in her eyes.
Keep it together, man.
How often do I have to tell you? Is this your first rodeo?
She’s just another woman, the same as the rest.
Relax.
I knew I was lying to myself. She was most certainly not the same as all the others. She was way different. Surprising is what she was, and I’d barely scratched the surface.
Wait. Don’t jump to conclusions.
Maybe if I got to know her better, you know, asked her a few more questions, I’d realize that she wasn’t surprising at all.
Good plan. Excellent, in fact.
I headed outside and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from her. She was facing the view with her naked feet and red toes resting on the bar of the balustrade.
I turned my chair to do the same. “Cheers, Rose.” We clinked our glasses and took a sip of our wine. “I need to know your story,” I said. Full-on, head-on, straight-on question.
“Need to? What do you mean?” Her eyes were slightly bigger now, waiting for my response.
“I mean, what’s your background?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. You mean in case your father or family member asks you something like that.”
“Right.”
Not what I meant, but okay.
“Let’s see, um. I’ll give you the nut-shell-version. Don’t want to bore the living daylights out of you, Times New Roman style and all,” she joked and shifted into a comfortable position.
“How about you give me the long Georgia-version,” I suggested.
She deserved a fair chance, right?
“Good idea, but I’m not sure there is a Georgia-version.” She smiled. “My mom died when I was two, so my dad raised me, which wasn’t so bad,” she said, and I sucked in a breath. “He worked a lot, and I stayed either at my friend’s house or with a nanny at our house. I only realized later in life that my dad couldn’t help the situation. You might’ve noticed I work a lot, sometimes long hours.”
Her eyes slid over to me, and I nodded my head, expressing how true that was.
“I’ve obviously inherited that trait from him,” she continued. “Working hard I mean. Anyway, I realized that he had little choice but to work long hours, so I learned to live with not seeing that much of him. But then, the stress hit him: one meeting too many, one business trip too many, and many late nights too many… All that together could surely damage a person’s health—and so it was with my father.”
She took a deep breath in, and I waited quietly for her to work through the emotion. “So, it’s just me. I never met any of my mom’s family, and my dad was an only child, whose parents died when I was about five years old. I remember them a little bit, at least.”
She turned her face to me and smiled, showing she’d finished what she wanted to say.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said, meaning it. I felt like an asshole for having judged her so wrongly when I’d barely known her. Her story wasn’t what a fun, happy childhood sounded like. Not in the least. To lose both your parents was sad, and I was suddenly grateful that mine were alive and healthy. “I’m sorry, Rose.”
“It’s okay, there’s no need for consolation. I’m all right. I’ll be all right. It’s hard for everyone in some way or another. For me, let’s just say that some things didn’t go as my father planned or would’ve hoped for me.” She sighed, and there was silence for a while.
“I have two siblings,” I started.
“Oh? Really? I’ve only heard of your brother,” she said, curious. “Oliver.”
“You might recognize the name Aria Humphries. My younger sister, our little genius.”
Realization hit her. “Right! The name does sound familiar.”
“She completed her Master’s in computer engineering in only eighteen months. Dad brags about that all the time. Then, she ran off to L.A. to work.”
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Yeah, good luck with that. She hardly ever visits,” I chuckled. “Then, there’re my parents, Helen and Charles Henry. That’s just my direct kin. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but I think my life would be way easier if they’d loosen that leash. I mean, hell, I need your help to convince my family that I’m someone other than who I actually am. It’s fucking exhausting.”
“Oh, I get that. Before he died, my dad dragged me to all these charity events. I hated them, but I did it anyway out of a sense of obligation.” She smiled, nodding. “Do your parents love each other?”
“For sure,” I said. “They’re actually pretty lovey-dovey, and honestly, it freaks me out.” She laughed and wiggled her toes. “But, what’s funny is how my dad’s this big bad boss, the leader of a billion-dollar empire. Yet at home, my mom’s the one who calls the shots. Nothing gets past her. Of course, she does it without making it obvious to him.”
“Of course. Sounds like a smart woman.”
I glanced over at Rose before teasing, “So you’d better get on her good side quickly, because as long as you’re in her good books, you’ll have nothing to worry about. And that means, I’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“She is a smart woman, isn’t she?”
“That she is.”
Rose looked at me in a worried manner. “So, that’s definitely going to make things difficult… I think convincing your dad will be easier, but if your mom is the one in charge behind the scenes, I’m willing to bet she has excellent bullshit antennas.”
“Bullshit antennas? Yeah, maybe, but I was kidding. You don’t really have to worry about my mom.”
“No, really,” she explained, “A smart woman can tell when somebody is bullshitting—which is what you and I are going to have to do.” She looked genuinely concerned now.
“Don’t worry. Just tell her you love to bake, and you’ll win her heart immediately.”
“So easy, huh?”
“Yep.”
“It’s not even a lie. I actually do like baking. I have a killer brownie recipe.”
“Perfect. Mom’s going to love you. You’ll see.”
“I hope…well, I’d better get back home,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s late. Thanks for the wine and the ride out to the pier. It was fun. More fun than I thought it would be.”
“You’re welcome.” I wanted to joke that I, too, had had much more fun with her than I had ever thought possible, but decided to stop myself.
When we got over to my door, she stopped and turned to me. “Just one more question. A serious one.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you think you’re going to handle not being with any women for a whole six months?”
“Funny that you ask,” I said. “I’ll just be hoping and praying that my balls don’t turn completely blue and fall off.”
She laughed and grabbed her cowboy boots in one swift bendy motion, which gave me an eyeful of that round ass, before walking out into the hall.
“Wait, before I forget…” She hesitated and turned to me. “Eunice and Eugenia.”
“Yeah?”
“Are they really your decorators?” she asked.
Weird question, but I wasn’t judging. “They are. I’m happy with their work. ‘A glass of wine a day will help you live longer, let’s live forever’—that’s their lifestyle.” I smirked. “They’re a good sister-team. Want me to call them up?”
“Sisters?” she asked, her expression shocked. “You had sex with two sisters?�
� Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
“Sex?” I shook my head. “I told you. Get your mind out of the gutter, woman. I don’t sleep with business partners.”
“I saw Eugenia doing the walk of shame, the next morning!”
It took me a moment to process.
“Oh, I see,” I mumbled, leaning my head back. “She fell asleep on my couch—scared the living daylight out of me. I thought she’d left after our little house party the evening before. I don’t mind a good surprise, but I almost had a heart attack when I saw her. She felt embarrassed and stormed off.”
Not gonna lie.
It had been like a scene out of a horror flick. She’d reminded me of “The Joker.” Her face white as a sheet, her make-up all smeared, her hair all over the place, and her mouth open in surprise. She’d had utter shock in her eyes when she realized that I’d just come out of my bedroom and had seen a business partner, let’s say, not looking “her best.”
“So why were you all touchy and feely with her and her sister in the elevator?”
“Me touchy and feely? That’s not how I recall things. Get your facts straight, woman. You can’t blame me if women throw themselves at me,” I teased. “I think Eugenia took that lifestyle of hers a step too far that night. She’s having the worst week, her girlfriend just dumped her. She’s been really nasty around other women. Easy to irritate. Spiteful.”
“She’s not into guys?”
“Nope. At least not into this guy.” I pointed at my chest. “Surprising, I know.”
“But she’s seen, you know… your…” she pointed her eyes to my crotch area, then quickly back up at me.
Huh? Funny. Suddenly, her eyes gave me an apologetic “I can’t believe I said that” look.
“My dick?” I asked, straight on.
She gulped, mumbling something about elevator and rude-ass-bitch attitude.
“Well, I didn’t think she’d still be here, or anybody would be in the next room. I think we gave each other the scare of a lifetime. Talk about awkward. Talk about hilarious when we saw each other again, and she acted as if nothing had happened. Any more questions?”
