2B or Not 2B

by Stephanie Witter

  “Are you shitting me?” Jordan stood up, put his beer on the table and shook his head. “Just because of a pussy?”

  My roomy closed the distance between them and brought a hand to Jordan’s neck. Jordan’s eyes widened with fear and surprise. Byron wasn’t squeezing, but it was hard for him not to, that was obvious. The muscles in his arms and thick neck were bulging from his restrain. The two other guys were trying to calm him down, asking him to release Jordan, but nothing seemed to work through his anger. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of someone. Byron was that frightening.

  “Don’t talk about her like that. Listen to me closely,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Bridge is off limits for you. This place is off limits for you.” He shook him. “Got it?”

  Jordan pushed Byron away and nodded. He massaged his throat and walked out, bumping into Macon outside about to knock. Macon’s frown deepened when he saw Byron barely able to breath. The other two guys were mute, their gaze firmly locked on their friend. They had seen this side of Byron before.

  And then, as I strode in the living room, Byron walked to the wall next to the TV and punched it. Hard. Hard enough to make us all wince. He exhaled and turned around, his light blue eyes so cold locking with mine. My eyebrows shot up, but for once I said nothing. My heart was still beating loudly and far too fast from the fear that overtook me.

  “Did you ruin your hand?” Macon asked, walking in and closing the door behind him with a kick of his heavy black boots.

  “Not now, man,” The guy with dirty blond hair said, holding a hand up. He elbowed the other one who was looking at Byron from head to toe.

  This other guy with dark curly hair rolled his eyes. “Well done, Davis. Look at London, she’s freaking out.” He turned to me and smiled softly. “I’m Eliott by the way, and this is Steven.”

  I nodded at them and managed a small smile. Macon walked to me, his eyes not sending friendly vibes to Byron. He massaged his hand, which was already swollen and red. I didn’t hear anything breaking, but with the force of his hit, I was pretty sure it would look bad before tomorrow. I could already hear the questions of my parents about the state of his hand. I sighed.

  Byron’s eyes were still on me, like he was waiting for me to go bat shit crazy on him or scream with fear. Granted, I was quite scared to discover he was a short fused kind of guy, but he was mistaking me for one of his girls if he thought I’d be running out of here screaming at the top of my lungs. So, I did the thing I knew the best.

  I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “Next time we should buy you a punching bag.”

  Eliott chuckled, shaking his head with disbelief. Steven was looking at me with what I supposed was lust. He was probably still replaying Jordan’s words. And Macon gave me a one-arm hug and kissed the top of my pixie cut blonde hair.

  “I think I’m in love with your roommate, Davis,” Eliott said with a laugh in his rich voice, in which a little drawl was audible. He should work for a radio station with such a voice.

  Byron punched his arm, but I saw he didn’t put much strength in it. “Don’t force me to beat the crap out of you, McCoy.”

  “Hey, big guy, I can take care of myself,” I interrupted with an angry scowl that made them all laugh. Even Macon. I punched my best friend in the stomach. He should learn how to protect himself. I punched him at least once a day.

  “Cute little right hook, Bridge.”

  I waved him off and grabbed Macon’s hand, leading him to the front door under the scrutiny of the three guys. “Don’t kill any more walls, Soldier.”

  “It’s not Lord anymore?”

  “Depends on the mood!,” I sing-songed before I closed the door behind us.

  “He’s a fucking soldier?” I nodded and watched Macon’s face go from curiosity to sheer lust. “Shit, I think I need a cold shower.”

  I looked down at his crotch and sure enough his beat up black jeans appeared a little tight down there. Not only was I lusting after my roommate, but my gay best friend was, too.

  *

  DAY 3

  “Don’t you think Charlie Hunnam was as sexy as he is in Sons of Anarchy?” I asked Macon, licking my spoon of chocolate ice cream. We always ate ice cream after a movie, even in winter; it was our thing.

  Macon nodded absentmindedly, his gaze locked on his fast melting pistachio flavored ice cream. “Your roomy is a serious hottie.”

  I sighed and leaned against the booth where I was sitting in front of my best friend, who was obviously not on the same page as I was.

  “Are you going to tell me this every time you see him?”

  He narrowed his eyes on me. “Don’t tell me you’re immune to this piece of sex on legs.”

  I laughed despite myself at this quite accurate description. “You’re incredible!” I weighed what to tell him and shook my head, remembering the loud moan I caught the other night when I was walking with Jordan to my room. “But I’m not blind. Or deaf.”

  “Deaf? Explain.”

  “Let’s just say women are loud and the walls are thin.”

  He moved the salt and pepper aside, closer to the huge bay window. “Is it bothering you?”

  “It messes a little with my sleep.” After Jordan left, I couldn’t sleep because I was always thinking about what Byron did to the leggy brunette to make her moan and call his name like that. It was messed up, but I was pretty sure I went so far as giving Jordan a blow-job just to have some sort of revenge.

  “And that’s all?” He drank the rest of his mug of coffee and ran a hand in his hair all over the place. It almost looked like the famous picture of Einstein. But Macon wore it well, as usual. “I don’t understand how you cope with not being more horny. The last time you had sex—‘’

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t go there, Macon,” I warned him, my glare locked on his face.

  He leaned back in his booth, an arm casually put on the back of it. “Still pinning over that piece of shit?”

  “You are my best friend, but even I have my limits, and you know that is one.”

  He groaned with annoyance and rolled his eyes; he was never intimidated by me. “I get he hurt you but, baby, you can’t go on like this. For Pete’s sake! You can’t even let a guy pleasure you. You’re all game for blow-jobs, but you can’t let a guy get you off.”

  I scowled at him and pushed away my empty plate. “You know what? Next time I won’t tell you what’s happening in my sex life.”

  He smirked. “Like you can hide something from me.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass, Macon.”

  “Just like you are, baby. Ask your roomy.”

  “Lord happens to tolerate me now. He even took my defense against his friend.”

  He shook his head with a smile on his face. “You’re both weird with those nicknames. What sane people use bridge and lord as nicknames?”

  I shrugged and put money to pay for the ice creams and coffee on the table. It was my turn to treat. “Sane people are no fun.”

  He stood up and put an arm around my shoulders as soon as I was standing next to him. “You’ve got a point, baby.”

  Chapter Four

  DAY 4

  The first day back to college wasn’t all that fun. It could have been, because I missed some people who went back home during the summer, and I was glad to see them again. But, all that was ruined fairly quick when I saw him with her.

  They still looked like the golden couple they were back in high school. She was tall, blonde, thin, and all smiles and sweetness directed at everybody around her. He was tall, well built from football, and his dark hair was in perfect order on top of his head. I couldn’t look away from his strong, tanned arm slung around her tiny waist.

  My heart hurt in my chest, even hours later. Seeing Ryan was always hard for me. Not only did he make me realize what a naïve idiot I had been back then, but also how he ruined me. His behavior had killed the part of me that was vulnerable, sweet, and even romantic. Ryan might look lik
e a sweet guy, driven by his football scholarship, his classes and his beautiful girlfriend, but I knew now what a piece of shit he was despite his preppy look and an all white, mile-wide smile.

  I sat on the couch and sighed. Byron was in the kitchen, talking on his cell while grabbing a can of soda. When he closed the fridge with a little more strength than necessary, everything rattled inside. Usually, that kind of loud sound made me cringe, but not today. I didn’t give a rat’s ass. Byron sighed and rolled his eyes while listening to the person on his phone. Without a word, he brought me a can of pepsi and frowned at seeing my face. I was certainly not looking my bubbly self. I was just drained of my energy and felt depressed. I guessed I wasn’t as healed as I wanted to believe.

  “Listen Mom, my roomy is back, and we have things to do because her family is coming for dinner.” He rolled his eyes again and ran a hand in his buzzed hair. “Come Wednesday then.” He walked to the couch, handed me my can and sat next to me, careful to not even brush against me. “Bye, Mom.” And he hung up.

  He opened his can and took a big sip. He didn’t look like a guy who had had a great day either. At least we were in the same boat as of today. “Your mom wants to come?”

  He shrugged, his eyes trained on the little can swallowed by his huge, rugged hand. “She’s delighted to know I’ve got a girl for a roommate, and she wants to meet you.” He took another sip. “And she’ll bring along my father and little brother.”

  “Fair enough. You have to go through meeting my family tonight,” I replied absentmindedly, my head still focused on Ryan and his wonderful girlfriend who never really lost him in the first place. Even if I felt bitter about her, she wasn’t to blame. I hoped the day she woke up about Ryan, she wouldn’t hurt too badly. “It feels too much like a couple meeting the parents kind of thing. That’s weird.”

  He nodded and made a face at the thought. I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. For some reason, I didn’t like it when it was turned off, even when I was reading. I somehow found something about a dark screen creepy. I took a sip of my soda and closed my eyes.

  “Bad day, Bridge?”

  I turned my head toward him. I let my eyes wander along his thin scar and fought a sudden urge to run my fingers on it to test the smoothness or roughness of his skin there. “Never fall in love, Byron.”

  The serious tone of my voice made him frown deeper. He tilted his head to the side, assessing me with curiosity. “Why are you telling me this? It’s not like I’m falling for you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dickhead, I’m telling you this because I think you’re level headed enough to see the wisdom in these words.” I put my can on the coffee table and turned toward him to face him fully. “Never. Fall. In. Love.”

  He took another sip of his soda, his icy blue eyes never leaving my brown ones, assessing me. “And what do you make of, ‘You can’t fight love,’ and all that shit?”

  I snorted and shook my head. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly waiting for the One to settle down with. You want to forget about wild sex whenever you want to have a lifetime of vanilla sex in the damn same position until you’re so bored with your wife that you start to look for younger boobs and tighter asses to play with? It’d be really disappointing.”

  He gaped at me, his eyes taking me in from head to toe and back again. “All right. Now I may be able to see you more like one of my buddies.”

  I shrugged at his comment, not ready to let the subject drop. “Seriously, though. You fall in love when you put yourself in the position to fall in love. Once you open yourself completely and put your heart on your sleeve, you’re done. It’s a given.”

  He bit on the nails of his right hand, his jaw flexing compulsively. “Let me guess. You’re bitter because you once fell in love and got your heart broken.”

  “No. I got my heart burnt to ashes, and the part of me that was soft and hopeful for a happily ever after was annihilated,” I replied evenly, my eyes now downcast on my too large thighs. My hands closed into fists before I forced myself to open them and calm down.

  “You were in love?” He put one of his strong arms on the back of the couch, close to my head, and pinned me with his mesmerizing eyes.

  “Strange thing, huh?” I said in a small bitter smile as I locked my eyes with his.

  “I’d say more frightening than strange, but why not.” He shrugged.

  “Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath as I took another sip of my soda, emptying the can.

  “But Bridge, you don’t have to worry about seeing me bring a girl here to stay,” he said softer, but with determination.

  I almost laughed at the image. I couldn’t picture him in a monogamous relationship. He screamed too much of unattached sex for that. “Not that I care. I just wanted to show you how love was, in fact, a bunch of crap about to explode and eats at the person feeling it. It’s only heartache in waiting because it always ends and always hurts like a bitch.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “So, what do you recommend?”

  “Fuck whoever you want, wherever you want, and whenever you want on your own terms.”

  He smirked at me, his mischievous blue eyes sparkling at me. “Believe me, that’s been my motto since I had my first hard on.”

  *

  DAY 4

  ‘’So, you were in the army,” my father stated matter of fact while nursing his glass of water, while the rest of us were eating uncomfortably at our little table.

  I gritted my teeth. That’s when I remembered why sometimes I wanted to hit my parents across their face. I told them the army was a taboo subject, but of course as soon as their eyes landed on his scar, they couldn’t help it. They had to talk about it. I wouldn’t be that surprised to see Byron making me leave before the end of the two months he agreed to try.

  I chanced a look in his direction, and I wasn’t disappointed. His hands were holding so tightly to his fork and knife that his knuckles turned white. And, his light blue eyes were arctic cold. I sighed and elbowed my sister, sitting next to me. Of course as a teenager, she’s too busy drooling over my sexy ass of a roommate.

  “I was, sir,” Byron replied politely, giving me a warning look. I knew I had to respect this rule, but it’s not my fault if my family couldn’t take a hint.

  “For how long?” my mother asked, obviously interested, but unaware of how their host didn’t want to discuss it at all.

  “I enlisted as soon as I graduated high school, and I’ve been back since March, ma’am.”

  “So what?” I blurted suddenly, my fork clinking against my full plate of chili con carne. I couldn’t take it anymore, and I was beyond pissed at the thought I’d have to suffer Byron’s bad mood. And this day had already been a shitty one, and I was way past my patience. “He’s a soldier who now studies at UCLA. Big deal!”

  My father and mother looked at me with narrowed eyes and apologized to him about my behavior. I shook my head and glared at him when he chuckled without even thanking me for my outburst.

  “We never raised you to be so self-centered! It’s unbelievable. Whenever it’s not about you, you try to draw back the attention of everyone,” my mother spat at me, her brown eyes flaring, but never doing their job of intimidating me.

  “Mom!” Sydney said appalled. She always took my defense when my parents were too hard on me.

  I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She crossed her arms and glared at our mother who was glaring back. And my father was slowly eating, his eyes trained on Byron who was looking at me.

  “Mrs. Reed, London was just trying to help me.”

  I choked on my water and shook my head for him to shut the hell up. But he never listened to me.

  “Trying to help you?” my father repeated with a frown, accentuating the wrinkles on his wide forehead, the same one I inherited.

  “She knows I don’t like talking about the army.”

  “Is there something between you and my daughter?” my father asked immediately, not missing a beat.<
br />
  Byron, mouth wide open, was at a loss of words. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard to take in three crazy Reeds at once while the youngest of the family was still murdering our mother with her soft green eyes.

  “What? I mean no! Of course not!”

  “Why ‘Of course not?’” my father asked now glaring at him.

  It was quite funny to see a badass, scarred soldier, twice as big as my bureaucratic father, squirming on his chair. I laughed, the unrestrained sound breaking the tense atmosphere. I should have seen this one coming, but my father was always able to surprise me.

  “Leave him alone, Dad. He only meant that we’re just roommates.”

  “Yes, roommates,” Byron echoed with relief. I didn’t let him suffer from the cold wrath of my father who was still trying to protect me from big bad boys, and he should be thankful. If only my father knew that they should be getting a protection from me.

  My father nodded and resumed eating.

  “Does that mean you have a girlfriend, Byron?” my mother asked in a sugary voice, I knew too well. She was trying to mess with my father’s head to convince him to bring me back home. I didn’t like mind games, and it was very hard to win against her.

  Byron traded a panicked look with me. “No, Mrs. Reed.” He took a sip of water to stall a little. “I don’t think I’m ready to give a girl what she needs in a relationship.”

  I tilted my head to one side and hid my smile by chewing on my chili, which was not as spicy as I would have liked. Nice save, but quite ridiculous once you knew the guy. He cleared his throat and checked our plates, probably wishing we would all eat faster.

  My sister, on the other hand, was giving me a mischievous smile that looked frighteningly like the one I gave Macon whenever I was getting a little crass with him. Seeing it on the sixteen year old face of my sister was really disturbing. I knew she thought Byron was hot—I couldn’t blame her on that one—but now she was obviously implying I should give it a try. She even went all out by moving her head, not so subtlety, toward him. I mouthed no and glared for good measure. She just shrugged.