Just Roommates

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Just Roommates Page 17

by Charity Ferrell


  I don’t know who’s more excited—her or me. This is a serious step for me—wanting a relationship. I couldn’t see myself doing this with anyone but her.

  “You’re divorcing Devin, correct?” I ask.

  “Absolutely,” she rushes out.

  “Then, it’s settled.”

  “Holy shit,” she whispers. “I’m in a relationship with Maliki Bridges. My teenage fantasies have come true.”

  I chuckle. “Oh, really?” I fold my hands together, rest them on the table, and lean closer. “Did you write about me in your diary?”

  “Yes.” Her voice turns soft and almost childish. “Dear Diary, Maliki smiled at me today.” She cracks a flirtatious smile. “Dear Diary, Maliki said he hates annoying teenagers, and I’m an annoying teenager.”

  “You have to admit, you were an annoying teenager.”

  “You have to admit, you were an annoying bar owner,” she counters with amusement. “And that you drank before you turned twenty-one.”

  “I won’t deny that.”

  “See! Why was it such a big deal for me to drink?” She snatches up her martini, gives me a cheers, and takes a long sip with a smirk.

  “The difference is, my dad was the owner then and didn’t care if I drank. I owned the bar when you tried and did care.”

  She rolls her eyes and drops her empty glass onto the table. “FYI, and side note, I am a high-maintenance girlfriend. Just wanted to give you a heads-up. This is your first test: I’m drinking a lot of martinis tonight. I might be annoying.”

  “And I don’t give a shit. High maintenance, annoying—which I have dealt with for years, mind you—or not, you’re still mine.”

  “I can’t eat for another week,” Sierra declares when we walk out of Clayton’s, dodging bodies in the busy crowd.

  We’ve run into three people from Blue Beech, and luckily, Sierra had drank enough martinis that she didn’t stress about what they thought about her being married.

  Me? I couldn’t care less.

  Let them report back to Devin.

  “Even if it’s an ice cube,” she goes on, “I’ll die.” Her head falls back in a groan. “And thank goodness you barely drank, so you can be DD tonight, boyfriend.”

  I grin like a motherfucker at her last word.

  I gape down at her as she stays in my hold. “You’re going to regret drinking so many martinis tomorrow, girlfriend.”

  She wobbles in her heels a bit, and I tighten my arms around her shoulders, keeping her from falling.

  “Nope. I’ll be ecstatic I drank all those martinis.” She licks her lips. “Martinis are my jam, and I can’t wait to bring more recipes to the pub. I’ll turn all the beer and whiskey drinkers into champagne and martini connoisseurs.”

  I chuckle. “Good luck with that, babe.”

  I hand the valet our slip and focus on her, admiring the woman who’s become everything to me, while she babbles on about different martinis—something along the lines of Key Lime and Blood Oranges.

  This damn woman has buried herself so deep in my fucking veins that there’s no way I can cut her out.

  I wave off the valet when he goes to help her into the car, doing it myself, and rush over to the driver’s side.

  “I wonder if the bar is busy tonight,” she comments, leaning back in her seat.

  “We won’t know until tomorrow when I check the figures,” I say, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “Ah … the boss won’t be going down to check on business?” She gasps. “I can’t believe Maliki, the workaholic, will let that slide for a night.”

  “The boss won’t even be in the building.” Even though it’s dark and she most likely can’t see me, I smirk her way. “Tonight, it’s you and me, babe. No bar chaos, no employees, nothing other than room service and us relaxing in a hotel suite.”

  She perks up in her seat. “Seriously?”

  I nod, loving how excited she is. I should’ve spoiled her like this sooner. I’ll have to make up for my lack of taking her out.

  “Uh, shit,” she mutters, and by her tone, I wasn’t supposed to hear that.

  “What’s up?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

  “Sierra,” I warn.

  “I don’t want to feel like a Debbie Downer, and I know I won’t be wearing any clothes tonight—”

  “Correct on that assessment,” I can’t help but chime in.

  “I’m worried about tomorrow. This dress and heels aren’t exactly comfortable to wear then.”

  “I packed a bag while you were showering.”

  “You went through my things?”

  “Don’t worry. I wasn’t too nosy … didn’t find your diary filled with I Heart Maliki and Mrs. Bridges written between hearts.”

  She laughs. “I can’t wait to write in that journal about how I sucked and then straddled your dick tonight.”

  “Jesus.” I grip the steering wheel tighter in fear of driving off the road. “You can’t say that shit to me when I’m already struggling to pay attention.”

  Good thing the hotel is only minutes away.

  Sierra’s mouth is on mine as soon as we walk into the hotel room.

  I suck in a breath as her drunken hands fumble with my belt.

  The bags I’m holding drop out of mine, hitting the floor.

  Yes.

  The hotel room was an amazing idea.

  I flip on the light.

  She backs me toward the bed, and my heart nearly gives out when she shoves my pants down. Her lips have never met my cock, and my heart quickens from me just thinking about it.

  She drops to her knees and tugs down my pants, and my swollen cock springs free.

  Shit. I might come before she even puts me in her mouth.

  She peeks up at me, a teasing smile on her lips before she licks them. I groan when she wraps her lips around the crown of my dick and takes me all the way in, the tip of my cock hitting the back of her throat as she starts sucking me.

  The best goddamn blow job I’ve ever had.

  I dig my fingers into the bed while watching my cock move in and out of her mouth. I suck in a breath, grab her hair, and pump my hips to the same pace she’s sucking.

  I’m close.

  As bad as I want to see her swallow my cum, I need to be inside her more.

  “Stop sucking me and take off your clothes,” I rasp out. “Then, fuck me.”

  As I grab a condom, I see her lipstick on my dick and grin.

  I waste no time slipping on the condom as she gets naked.

  She straddles my cock and rides me.

  My life has never been perfect.

  Never will be perfect.

  But Sierra has made it damn near close.

  Too bad I don’t know it’s going to all fall apart.

  Twenty-Two

  Maliki

  I’m searching real estate online while Sierra is shopping with her mom. To say the market blows in Blue Beech is an understatement. Finding a place might take a while, so I haven’t mentioned anything to Sierra yet.

  No matter what, I’ll find a new home for us. We need privacy and space from the bar. From experience, this isn’t a stable place to raise a family either.

  That’s right.

  I’m already thinking about having a family with her.

  I want her to be my wife and the mother of my children.

  I never thought that was something I’d say.

  I shut my laptop and drop it next to me at the sound of a knock on the door. I don’t get very many visitors here, given it’s in the back lot and most people see me at the bar.

  I open the door to find the last person I expected.

  She gapes at me, her face brimming with stress.

  What the fuck?

  I have no clue why she’s here or what to say.

  “Hey, Maliki,” she says, looking high-strung.

  I cross my arms. “Jessa, this is a surprise.”

  She scowls at my harsh tone. “
Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I retreat a step while doubting if it’s a good idea, making sure there’s ample space between us, and shut the door. “What’s up?”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  “So, tell me.”

  “I, uh …”

  Jesus. She needs to stop this stuttering shit and explain herself. I can’t risk Sierra coming in and seeing her here.

  I snap my fingers in her face. “What do you need to tell me?”

  I’m acting rude, which is unnecessary, but why is she standing, speechless. in my doorway? Her uneasiness makes me worry she’s about to start some shit. The faster she explains why she’s here, the faster I can go back to house-hunting.

  Until something hits me.

  An abrupt wave of nausea smacks into me. “Is Sierra okay?” It’s reaching, but if something is wrong with her, Ellie could’ve asked Jessa to relay the message.

  “Sierra?” She glances around the apartment. “Why are you worried about my sister’s friend?”

  “Why else would you be here?”

  “Again, why do you care about her?”

  “Cut to the chase and spit it out, Jessa. I have shit to do that doesn’t involve your manipulative games.”

  “Manipulative games?” She snorts. “I’m manipulative? You’re the one worried about a married woman. I see your type hasn’t changed.”

  “I had no idea you were in a relationship when we fucked,” I seethe. “You and Pete were off and on as much as you changed your panties.” I clench my jaw. “Now, for the umpteenth time, why are you here?”

  “There’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

  “Tell me what this something is.”

  “You have a child,” she blurts out.

  I explode in laughter. “Good one. Did Devin put you up to this?”

  “It’s true.” She shakes her head and pinches her lips together. “I got pregnant when we were sleeping together.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Bullshit. I always wrapped up.” Sierra is the only woman I’ve gone raw in.

  She continues shaking her head while firing back her argument that I’m her baby daddy. “Tom Petty concert. The backseat of your car.”

  My mind scrambles back to that night.

  Broken condom. Shit.

  She promised she was on the pill.

  “I got pregnant.” She rocks back on her heels. “By the time I found out, I was back with Pete.”

  I hold my hand up, swallowing loud, and sink into a chair at the kitchen table, growing light-headed. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

  She takes the seat across from me. “Pete would’ve left me if I was pregnant with another man’s baby, so I told him she was his. Our relationship was solid, and I knew a relationship with you was off the table because you’re … well, you.”

  “Jump to the part where I have a child,” I grind out. “And why I’m just now finding out.”

  She slightly lifts her chin. “She’s six years old. Pete’s mother has never been a fan of mine and always questioned the paternity of Molly. She took it upon herself to swab my daughter’s cheek and send it to one of those stupid mail-in labs. Pete found out the truth and filed for divorce. Now, I’m back in Blue Beech, and you deserve to know the truth.”

  “Oh, after Pete left you, I deserve the truth. How fucking convenient is that?”

  “I’m telling the truth, Maliki!”

  “You’ve always been a liar, Jessa.”

  “I swear, I’m not lying.”

  “Just because she’s not Pete’s doesn’t mean she’s mine. Who knows how many men you slept with behind our backs?”

  “She’s yours. One hundred percent. You might think I’m a vindictive bitch, but I love my daughter.”

  I grind my teeth and keep an eye on the door, as if I’m waiting for Sierra to walk into this mess. “If you loved her so much, you would’ve told me years ago, so she wouldn’t be fatherless.”

  “She had a father. Pete. You and Pete were the only men I slept with, and I was only screwing you during the time. Believe me, I knew you’d treat me like this and still told you.”

  “I want a paternity test,” I bite out.

  “That’s no problem.”

  Her answer falls from her lips in seconds, shocking me.

  Maybe she is telling the truth.

  She stands and runs her hands over her black dress. She rests them on the table with a stern look on her face. “And FYI, if you’re screwing my sister’s friend, be careful. She was arguing with her husband the other day while watching Molly. She cried, and they kissed. If I were you, I’d check on your sidepiece.” She stops to put her finger to the corner of her mouth. “Or are you her sidepiece, given she’s married?”

  I fight with myself from throwing whatever I can grab across the room. Too much is being flung at me.

  I might have a child.

  Sierra was with Devin.

  They kissed.

  My hands shake as I maintain my composure. “All I’m talking to you about is a paternity test. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut about my life.”

  “I’ll figure it out and get back with you.”

  I nod.

  I’m speechless.

  She leaves without another word, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, I snatch a coffee cup on the table and chuck it across the room.

  I’m not believing anything until I see results.

  But if it comes out positive, that means she’s hidden this part of my life from me for six years.

  I calculate the timeline of my relationship with Jessa while cleaning up the glass and then slump down on the couch, staring at the wall.

  Jessa has always been a fan of games. We went to high school together, fucked a few times, and then I moved away. We reconnected a few years later and fucked some more. Since I wasn’t living in Blue Beech, I didn’t know she was engaged to Pete.

  “Off and on,” is what she said, and I was young and dumb and ran with the off, thinking with my dick.

  We fucked, plain and simple, and I cut her off when she turned crazy.

  I rise to my feet, pour myself a drink, and return to the couch. My mind drifts to Sierra and what Jessa said about her being with Devin at Ellie’s. She never mentioned their encounter.

  Why would she hide that from me?

  I’m being smacked with too many bombshells.

  I might be a father.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  Sierra stops dead in front of me and presses her lips against mine. “Sorry I’m late. Please don’t fire me, boss man.”

  Please don’t leave me if Jessa’s telling the truth.

  I kiss her again. “Only if you make up for your tardiness later.”

  She flips her straight hair over her shoulder. “Duh.”

  I grab a towel and smack her ass with it. “Now, get to work.”

  She salutes me, bends down, and smacks my ass in return. “I missed you today.”

  As much as I don’t want to ruin the mood, the words have been resting on the tip of my tongue since Jessa left. “Jessa said you and Devin had a moment at Ellie’s. You never told me that.”

  She freezes in step. “Jessa? What were you doing, talking to Jessa?”

  Shit. “She came into the bar before you got here, you late one, you, and told me.” I hate lying to her.

  “Well, Jessa can kiss my ass because she’s lying.” Her face reddens. “She probably wants to start screwing you again now that her husband left her unfaithful ass.”

  I wish I weren’t avoiding her gaze, but I can’t look at her. I’m afraid she’ll see the lies in my eyes. “Why’d he leave her?”

  She shrugs with a frown. “Something about her lying to him about being the father of their daughter. It’s sad because the little girl is so adorable, and now, Jessa stuck her into this weird position of not knowing who her dad is.” She kisses my cheek. “Be happy you dodged that bullet.”

  “Trust me, I
am.” At least I thought I’d dodged it.

  “Yep, because then you met me. By the way, Devin was begging me to stay with him at Ellie’s. I made it clear I wasn’t and then filed for divorce the next day. That lying tramp can kiss my ass, and she’d better stay away from you.”

  “I love when you get all territorial.”

  Twenty-Three

  Maliki

  Two Weeks Later

  My hands shake as I stare at the envelope—the paternity results.

  The day after Jessa broke the news, we went to get a paternity test. She brought her—maybe our—daughter in first and left, and then I went in. It isn’t healthy to include the little girl until paternity is established. Jessa could be lying, and the little girl is already confused after learning the man she believed to be her dad for years isn’t. I need to be positive before breaking the news and further confusing her.

  Jessa called the bar, looking for me this morning, which resulted in a glare from Liz. I ordered Jessa to never do it again and reluctantly gave her my phone number. She’s already texted me five times.

  I decided not to tell Sierra until the results came. Our relationship is perfect, and I’m scared this news will lead to problems, given she can’t stand Jessa. She wouldn’t be happy to find out Jessa is the mother of my child.

  I pace back and forth and then tear it open.

  I lose my breath as I read … 99.9% positive paternity.

  I drop the paper on the floor.

  Holy fuck.

  I’m her father.

  Twenty-Four

  Sierra

  “All right, I’ll let you know. Love you.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek when I hang up the phone, setting it on the couch next to me and scowling at it as if it were evil. I’m lost on what to do.

  “Not a good call?” Maliki asks, strolling into the living room and handing me a coffee mug.

  We had our morning shower, and he went on coffee duty while I returned the missed call from my father.

  I slouch against the cushion. “I have yet to decide.”

 

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