Making the Move: Mill Street Series #2

by Calla, Jessica

  “Shh. Stop clanking your bowl. This is a quiet zone.” He shouldn’t have been allowed to wear tight workout shirts that clung to every muscle of his upper body. The sight was almost obscene. I closed my eyes to keep from staring. “Can I stay here for a few more hours?”

  “Don’t you have class?”

  “Not until later.” I wiggled deeper into his bed and pulled the comforter up to my neck. His phone beeped at the same time his spoon clanked again, and I pressed a hand to my ear. “Too noisy. Quiet zone.”

  He placed his bowl on the dresser. His clean, shower-fresh scent mixed with the smell of his sugary cereal as he leaned closer, his strong hands wedging the comforter between my body and the bed. “Stay as long as you want,” he whispered.

  “Okay,” I mumbled, as he ran his hand over my hair. As soon as the door clicked and he left, I sank into his mattress and fell right back into my slumber.

  * * *

  When I woke a second time, I begrudgingly sat up and left the heaven that was Josh’s bed. As a music major, I’d get most of the credits I needed to graduate from independent study and my senior composition this semester, that is, if I actually opened my violin case and got back to work. But I had to take one more class to make the requirements for my concentration in music history and theory. The class was difficult, and even worse today because it meant I’d have to leave the perfect oasis of Josh’s room.

  With a long sigh, I dragged myself to the shower in an attempt to wake up and get motivated. I moaned as the hot water soothed and transformed me back to a presentable human.

  Oliver’s shower products had been removed, so I examined all of Josh’s items. They weren’t salon-grade, specialized for curly hair, like the stuff Ollie and I used. They were all manly, drugstore-bought, “sport-scented” for “active men” type of products.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” I said to myself.

  I squirted some of Josh’s uber-male shampoo into my hand and massaged it into my scalp, recognizing the scent. I still had paint in my hair that took forever to scrub out. As I hummed Beethoven’s Fur Elise, a thought hit me. I had nothing to wear.

  I let out a long sigh.

  After rinsing the man-soap off, I used the only towel hanging on the racks to dry myself and stared at my pile of dirty, Sunny Daze-paint-marked clothes. I couldn’t go to class in that pathetic ensemble, especially since I’d have to wear my fuzzy bunny slippers.

  Unless…

  It was possible I still had clothes in Ollie’s room. I hated the thought of going in there, remembering. Whenever I thought about Oliver—really thought about him, not just his shampoo and his things—the onslaught of memories was brutal. My shield, my defense mechanism, was a completely unhealthy recipe of denial and avoidance.

  Still, I’d have to at least peek to see if my extra pair of boots was in the closet. Maybe I had a sweatshirt or something that I’d slept in that I could wear to class.

  With a huff, I wrapped myself in the wet towel, tucking the corner over my chest to keep it in place. Both bedrooms were connected to the bathroom, so I walked to the other side of the bathroom and grasped Ollie’s doorknob.

  Locked. I’d have to go through the apartment.

  When I opened the bathroom door, the rush of steam followed me, but despite the heat, I froze when I stepped into the living area and saw Josh.

  He was on the floor in the center of the room, doing pushups, music blaring from his phone. Not only was he doing pushups, but he was doing them shirtless. The tight workout shirt had disappeared, and he was half naked.

  “My God.” I raised my eyebrows and watched as he moved quickly, the muscles in his back contracting with every movement, the glistening sweat accenting every curve of him.

  Since his head faced the opposite direction, he couldn’t see me, and I took advantage of the view. Holy heck, was he beautiful. Rachel and I had wondered if he was photoshopped or touched up for the Hunkarama calendar, and I could certainly confirm as I stood there, dripping onto his floor, that no, he was not.

  When he put an arm behind his back and did one-arm pushups, I must have bitten my lip because soon I tasted blood. Those went a little slower, and with each one, he grunted.

  He switched arms, and I shifted my weight to lean on the bathroom door frame. There were so many different sizes and shapes of men, and all of them could be attractive in one way or another. Josh seemed to be attractive in every way. Like every category of physical beauty could be checked off. Not just in physique either, but his hair, his eyes, his smile. I was sure that smile got him laid more than that body did. No wonder women wanted to sleep with him—even my ex-roommate.

  I’d never asked her much about her night with Josh, and she hadn’t offered. I had no idea Josh was hiding all of this though. Of course, I knew he was good-looking, but sweet Lord. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t hard as a rock.

  Josh bolted upright and spun around, grasping his chest when he saw me. I gasped, suddenly pulled out of my trance as he looked me over.

  “Damn, Violet.” He wiped his forearm over his sweaty face as he caught his breath and reached for his phone to turn off the music.

  I held out a hand, as if to block him from looking at me and tightened my towel around my chest with the other. “Nothing to see here. Just a homeless lady in a towel.”

  He panted, his lips curling into a grin. “Why…are you…in a towel?”

  “I thought it would be better than walking around naked?” I tried to joke as I worked to keep my eyes on his face.

  “Well, I’m not so sure about that.” His gaze landed on my thighs. The dumb towel barely covered my backside.

  As he walked toward me, I felt my cheeks heat. “Enjoying the view? You’re practically drooling,” he teased.

  With a deep breath, I forced my eyes upward. “What do you expect? Look at you. When did all this happen?”

  “All what?”

  “This…” I pointed up and down his body. “You.”

  He lifted my chin so that I had to look in his eyes again, which did nothing to ease my sense of nervousness since they were just as beautiful as the rest of him.

  “Hi. I’m Josh.” He held out his hand for me to shake. “We met almost four years ago, but apparently you weren’t paying attention. I’m hot and have a calendar month to prove it.”

  “Shut up.” I pushed his wall of a chest in an attempt to shove him away, out of my space. “Of course I was paying attention, but I never knew how…ridiculous…your naked…well, almost naked….” Giving up on whatever I was trying to say, I huffed and scrunched my face. “How does that even happen?”

  “Been a while for you, huh, Pix? Am I turning you on?” He looked me up and down, tilting his head playfully, like he was trying to peek behind me at my butt.

  “Ew, no.” I tightened the towel around me. “But you eat, like, twelve bowls of cereal a day. You shouldn’t look like that.”

  “I work out daily, you know that.” He made a show of flexing in some bodybuilding pose. “Sometimes I have an eight-pack, but being home for the holidays fattened me up.”

  There wasn’t any fat on him that I could see. “Alright. Settle down, Hunkarama, and you can stop flexing.” With a deep breath, I waved him off, as if I could possibly erase the image in front of me. The image that had me fidgeting and completely aware of my thighs pressing together.

  This is Josh, I repeated to myself. Josh. Josh. Friend. Friend. Get a hold of yourself, Violet. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  He took another step toward me. His chest rose and fell, sweaty, his nipples erect, Mr. January in full effect. “Sure.”

  Keeping my gaze off of his torso was a major challenge. “Can you check Ollie’s closet and see if there’s anything for me to wear? Especially any type of footwear?”

  He squinted. “Why don’t you do that yourself?”

  “Because…you’re here now and I don’t have to?” I pouted and put on my best heroine-in-need-of-res
cue face. Then I patted his chest. Bad idea. As my palm bounced off of his pec, I fought the urge to jump up and wrap my legs around him, like I had the night before.

  Sighing, he shook his head and took a step back. “How about we go together?”

  “I can’t.” I didn’t want to go rummaging through Oliver’s room. I wasn’t ready.

  “You said that about the ladder too. You got this.” He took my hand and held it with a strong grip. “I’ll leave my shirt off and distract you with my hunky body.”

  I scoffed as he led me away. He was joking, but when I followed him, I thought about running my thumb down his slick spine and licking his salty sweat off of it.

  What was happening to me? I’d never thought of myself as someone who needed sex, but I wanted nothing more than to press my body into Josh’s back and rub up against him.

  He pushed open the door. “Ladies first.”

  I lifted my chest and squeezed past Josh. He sucked in a breath to give me room to pass, and I almost stopped in hopes of being close to him and to avoid entering Oliver’s space. But regaining control over my senses, I passed through.

  Holding my towel tightly around my body, I scanned the little room. I tried to figure out what was still there without thinking too hard about what was missing, but as my fingers trailed his bed, the memories took charge, twisting my heart. The fake lei I’d worn on the trip we took to Hawaii with our parents after senior year of high school hung around his bed post. I touched the nylon petals.

  When my gaze returned to Josh, he was focused on me. “I helped him pack. He only took a duffel bag with some clothes. I promised to bring the rest of his stuff to his parents’ house.”

  Nodding, I faked a smile.

  He offered a grin. “But for now,” he walked past me and flung open the closet, “we need to clothe you. Because as cute as you look in that towel, I don’t think it’s appropriate for your Advanced History of Music seminar.”

  My chest heated at his towel comment, but I was more impressed that he knew the name of the class I’d taken that semester. He tossed me a thermal NJU shirt that I’d worn to sleep with Ollie sometimes and a pair of yoga pants. “Sadly, I only see a pair of Crocs in here. You want them?”

  “Not ideal for walking in the snow, but better than fuzzy bunny slippers I guess.”

  “I’ll drive you to class, and I’ll even carry you to the doorway if you want. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Thanks again. Thank you for—”

  He held up a hand, his shoulder flexed. “Please. You never have to thank me for helping you. We’re friends, right?” But as he said the word “friends,” his gaze fell to my towel.

  His pecs stared at me as I nodded. “Yep.”

  Chapter Four

  Josh

  The day after SuperGame, I’d gotten the key from Grant and grabbed some of Vi’s things from the apartment, including her phone and her violin. I’d given the key to a trusted fraternity brother, who promised to gather a bunch of freshman pledges to deal with the mattress issue and finish painting.

  Although the apartment was sort of accessible, if not quite finished, the morning after what I began to refer to as “the towel episode,” Violet asked me if she could stay with me for a few days. Of course the answer to that question was a resounding yes, but I’d asked her why anyway.

  “I like your room,” she’d said. “And wouldn’t it be easier for you to keep an eye on me here?” She knew which buttons to press to get what she wanted from me, I’d give her that.

  Later that day, she’d left me a note for when I returned from the gym. Hope you had a great workout! I saved the damn thing like I was one of my tween sisters with a crush.

  A few days turned into a week. The lovesick idiot in me couldn’t be happier that a week after “the towel episode,” Violet was still squatting in my apartment. Everything had been so quiet since Oliver left. With Violet there, it all came back to life. Mill Street was only a mile or two away, but it felt like the other side of the world.

  We’d fallen into a natural rhythm together. I loved that she’d wake up and set up the coffee to brew me a cup. She’d even wash my cereal bowls for me when I had to run out to class or the gym. I’d smile when I heard her humming in the shower or see her toothbrush next to mine. We’d leave together and come back together. Eat together and share our plates. We’d even concocted a mixture of ginger ale and lemon to combat her hiccups.

  She told me that she loved my bed, so I’d given it up to her and took up residence in Ollie’s room. I didn’t even mind sleeping in the empty room because I knew Violet was only a few feet away. When I brought her breakfast in bed one morning, she’d grasped her chest and sighed. “I’ve never had breakfast in bed.” As I balanced the plate of ham and eggs on a book on her lap, I simultaneously cursed out Oliver while beaming with pride that I was able to give her that first.

  A few days after that, we’d listened to music while packing up all of Oliver’s stuff and then mailed it to his parents. She was quiet, and I didn’t push. When she found a picture of me and her that had fallen behind Ollie’s desk, she dusted it off, framed it, and put it on the windowsill in our living room. I loved seeing that damn thing every time I walked in.

  So, a week into our new living arrangement, I fell into Ollie’s bed and wondered the same thing I did every night—how I’d ever go back to not having her with me.

  I tossed and turned on the crappy mattress, until my phone chimed with Vi’s special tone.

  Vi: Did you hear that?

  Groggy, I squinted at the time. 1:15 a.m.

  Me: Hear what?

  A minute later, she tapped on Ollie’s door. “Josh?”

  I threw on a T-shirt and adjusted my boxers as she opened the door. All I could see of her in the dark was the moonlight reflecting off the shiny aluminum baseball bat that she carried. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head to wake myself up.

  “Come with me.” She waved me behind her, through the bathroom. The dumb, flower-shaped nightlight she’d stuck next to the toilet granted me enough light to see her. She wore shiny, loose, satiny pants with stripes down them and a tank top. With her hair up on top of her head, I studied the curve of her toned shoulders. She’d told me that playing violin kept her arms strong, but since it was winter, she was usually covered up. The lovesick idiot in me gawked at the sight of her skin.

  When she stopped at the door to my room and made me go in before her, I couldn’t help but notice that her perfect tits were unharnessed too. Such a damn good look for her. Her body was amazingly curvy for a tiny thing.

  With a huff, I opened the door to stand in her—no my—room. My room that now smelled like flowers and estrogen. “I don’t hear—”

  “Shh.” She held up a hand. “Listen.”

  I closed my eyes to concentrate. After a minute, I heard a clank.

  “Did you hear it?” she asked.

  Rubbing a hand through my hair, I turned to leave. “Yeah, sounds like a pipe. Okay, bye.”

  She grabbed my arm. “What if it’s someone trying to break in?”

  “Through the wall?”

  I squinted when she turned on my desk lamp. When my eyes adjusted, Violet was staring at me. “What if it’s a mouse?”

  Forcing myself to look at her face, not her body, was an effort. The pajamas were more revealing than the towel had been. I turned to leave before I lost my mind. “We’re on the second floor. How would a mouse get up here? I’m going to bed.”

  She grabbed my shirt to stop me. “Rachel said they climb up the garbage chute and that she saw one.”

  “That’s bullshit. Mice don’t come out in the winter.” I said it like I knew it to be a truth. I had no clue about mouse behavior.

  She gripped my arms, her strong hands squeezing my biceps. “They don’t? Where do they go?”

  Obviously, I had no idea. But it was late, and I wasn’t going to stand there and argue with her. Not when she looked adorable and sexy
and I was practically naked. My dick woke up at her hold on my arms, and I needed to get out of there and get her hands off of me. “You’re the city girl. Don’t you have rats?”

  “Ew, no.” She let go of me, pulled the elastic thing out of her head, and re-twisted her hair up into a new knot. In the five seconds it took her to do that, I watched her arms, her shoulders, her fingers, her tits. Everything moved in unison.

  Shaking my head at the sight of her, twitching to feel the warmth of her skin, I spun around and announced, “I’m out.” I could let my mind wander and fantasize about Vi, but I wasn’t going to keep myself in a situation that only made me want to reach out and pull her to me.

  She shuffled in front of me, blocking me with her pixie body. “No. You have to stay.”

  “Here? With you?” I raised my eyebrows. “That’s not the best idea.” Of course, it was the best idea I’d ever heard, but not the smartest.

  “Please?” She drew out the word and pouted. “What if someone breaks in? I need you.”

  The three magic words. With a huff, I crossed my arms. “Tomorrow you’re coming to the gym with me and I’ll teach you some self-defense moves.” I’d been trying to get Violet to workout with me, mostly because I spent a lot of time at the gym and missed her. Pathetic. I was fucking pathetic. I knew this roommate situation wouldn’t last though, and with graduation around the corner, I wanted to get my fill of her. As if I ever could. “Tonight, I’m going to sleep.”

  When I turned to walk out, she grabbed my arm again to stop me. “Please stay? I promise I won’t touch you.”

  “Not worried about you, Pix.” Glaring down, I changed my tone so she’d know I was serious. I was in control of everything in my life, except my feelings for her. She had me twisted into knots and didn’t even know it.

  I caught her quick grin before she went back to fake pouting. Fake pouting that always, every time, completely worked on me. “We can put pillows between us or something.”

  Rubbing my hand over my face, I knew I’d give in. This was Violet, and apparently, I lived to serve her. Reminding myself that I was a pathetic fool and that this new sleeping arrangement would do nothing to cure me of that, I crawled into my bed with her.