2B or Not 2B

by Stephanie Witter

  This guy was a mix of all the guys I called my book boyfriends, and it wasn’t as fun as I thought it’d be, considering that my place out of my parents’ house was at stake. Why didn’t I agree to live with the guy obsessed with World of Warcraft?

  Chapter Ten

  DAY 20

  The bar was going for that English pub feel with the wooden panels on the walls, the old looking tables and the bar carved in a dark and shiny wood. On the dark walls, old-fashioned beer and whisky ads almost gave it an authentic feel.

  The patrons, mostly a young crowd – sometimes even too young to legally order alcohol, thank you fake IDs ― were quite rowdy tonight. Some guys were cheering loudly for one of their friends who was drinking his third shot, while other groups of friends were talking animatedly and laughing. Our table was the odd and calm one out.

  Macon walked back to our little table for two with a beer for him and a girly drink for me ― a cosmopolitan. Without saying a word, I grabbed the glass and downed half of it, eyes closed and ears assaulted by the loud music playing in the bar. That bar, The Spot, was well known by every college student who didn’t live in a cave. The reason was simple; they didn’t card very often.

  Macon and I weren’t that into bar hopping, but sometimes when it was a weeknight and there wasn’t any interesting party, we had to take matters into our own hands. Tonight was a night that called for some alcohol, even if I knew I’d regret it tomorrow when my alarm would be screaming. Though, I wasn’t about to get plastered; I just needed a little buzz to ease my thoughts that were getting out of control.

  “Will you tell me what happened to you?” Macon asked me distractedly, his dark eyes already scanning the patrons. He wasn’t paying much attention to me, and it was annoying. “Because the scowl on your face is really not attractive, baby.”

  My scowl deepened, and he chuckled at me, shaking his head. He shaved today, and it made him look younger with his smooth cheeks. His hair was still all over the place, though. I remembered how Macon was angry the day of our high school graduation. I had to beg him not to confront Ryan, to let it go, because in the end, it was useless. I wasn’t very eager to see his reaction at hearing about Ryan trying to worm back into my life for more sexy-sex action.

  I glanced at the time on my cell phone and sighed. It was barely past eight. I couldn’t go back home yet. Byron wouldn’t be asleep, and I wasn’t ready to face him again today, not after the back rub thing.

  “I saw Ryan.”

  Macon put down his beer bottle with a little too much force. I heard the noise of the glass against the top of the table, and it wasn’t an easy fit with the loud music and the people enjoying their night. He leaned toward me above the table, his eyes never leaving mine. When he did this, it was like facing my father, and yet, my father wasn’t like this at all. In fact, I had my father wrapped around my finger if I needed him. Macon wasn’t as easy to lead.

  “What did he do?”

  I didn’t hear him, but I read his lips. I waved him off. “Just some shit about sleeping with me again.”

  “Don’t do it again.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I’d never go back to him.”

  He relaxed and smiled before he took one of my hands in his delicate one. I squeezed his fingers, happy to have him with me when I wasn’t feeling so hot.

  “Tell me what’s going on, then.”

  “Byron.”

  “Frustrated?”

  “I asked him for help to deal with Ryan. We waited for him to walk out of his class, and Byron played the jealous guy, making a show of his past as a soldier and everything.”

  “It must have been so hot. Lucky you.”

  “Can you be serious a second?”

  He frowned and took another sip of his beer. “You’re not serious that often. And we’re talking about your roommate, not the president. Relax.”

  “Hear me out, and tell me then if it’s that easy to relax.” I took a deep breath, leaned above the table, my boobs now splashed on the not so clean surface. I preferred not to think too much of what was on these tables. “When we were back home, he asked me for a back rub as payment.”

  “Shirt on or off?”

  “Off.”

  “Woah. You’re one lucky bitch.”

  “When you see the number of girls passing by his bed, I’d say that I’m not that lucky. You have to have boobs and a vagina, and you’re good to go. You’re immediately granted a free ticket to touch Byron.” Though, and I didn’t want to voice it, I wasn’t his type of girl at all. Maybe that was why I was so uneasy about this, because I couldn’t fathom why he’d try to seduce me. Or maybe he really wanted me out of his place, and it was the easier way to do so before the end of my two-month trial. I still had a month and one week.

  “Did you kiss again?”

  I shook my head and swept away my bangs, cursing at them. Maybe I should go back to have a hair cut. My fine hair felt like silk under my fingertips. In high school my hair was longer. It was shoulder length, perfectly straight and completely boring. I thought that was what Ryan wanted, when in fact he just wanted someone willing to put out without saying a word to anybody besides her best friend. As soon as the graduation ceremony was over and I left for a whole week without saying a word, I went to the first hair salon I found and got my hair cut the same way I had it today. I embraced my craziness wholeheartedly, from now on never trying to hide it to please someone.

  “We didn’t kiss, but he was intense.” I sighed and glanced around us, but nobody caught my attention. I didn’t want to find someone to go back home with and give the guy a blow-job just because I was scared by the sex appeal of my roommate. It was pathetic, and I wanted to stay as far away as I could from my pathetic side for a while longer.

  “Nothing new. The guy is intense.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like … I don’t know. It’s like he’s trying to make me surrender or something.”

  “Sleep with him, and get over it, then.”

  “And risk losing my room at his apartment? I’m not ready to go back to my parents’. I can already imagine what my mother would say.”

  “You’re obsessing over it.” He released my hand. “It’s been a while since you obsessed over a guy.”

  “It was good to me before, right?” I retorted, using sarcasm as a poor defense. I hated this. “Why has this guy succeeded in getting under my skin like this? He’s not even my type!”

  “Please! Baby, Byron is way more your type than Ryan ever was, and I’m not saying that because he’s a fucker. Byron is sexy, witty, and gives you as much as you give him. He’s a guy I’d see you with because he is able to support your craziness; he goes along with it. And he is as reluctant about relationships as you are. You’re a match.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Yes, you are. Sooner or later you two are going to sleep together, and it’s going to be … interesting to say the least.”

  “I won’t sleep with him. But I guess I need to find someone to distract me.”

  “That’s why you asked me to drive you to The Spot? You’re looking for a guy to sleep with?’’ He shook his head and sipped his beer.

  “Are you that surprised?”

  “I am, baby. Don’t sleep with a guy just because you’re freaking out about this thing with your roommate. After all, maybe it’s just because you’re not used to being so close to a straight guy.”

  “We kissed, and we’re teasing each other. There’re no mistakes as to what it is on my part, but I don’t know about him. He can’t be attracted to me.”

  “Please, I’m not in the mood to hear you telling me how not pretty you are.”

  “But, Macon—‘’

  “No, London! Let’s go. I don’t want to be a part of your master plan. If you really want to sleep with a guy, pick him up on your own.”

  I stood up and followed Macon to his car. The silence between us was hard and cold. I hated this, hated to feel so out of my depth, so afraid. Why
couldn’t life be easy and carefree all the time? Why was I over thinking everything? Why Byron was so mysterious, sexy, and thrilling?

  *

  DAY 20

  Not only I didn’t have a buzz and a guy to distract me, but I couldn’t make Macon say a word to me before he drove me back home. He sped away with an angry scowl that wasn’t that sexy with his smooth baby cheeks. I didn’t know why, but guys with stubble could put out a scowl and appear mysterious or something like that. Macon could, too. Usually.

  I grabbed my keys and unlocked the door, mumbling when I saw that it wasn’t even ten in the evening yet. “I hope Lord is not fucking another girl again,” I added, as the door was ripped open before I could even turn the knob.

  I jumped away and brought a hand to my heart when my eyes landed on his angry face. Why were all the guys in my life angry at me today? Was I more annoying today than the other days?

  “Where were you? I thought you wanted to go to bed.” His voice washed over me, the growl making me weak in the knees when I should only be scandalized by his alpha male behavior.

  I pushed at his chest and pulled my hands away quickly before my brain could register how good his pecs felt under my palms. I walked in the apartment and gave him the joy of closing the front door with a loud clack that must have been heard to the beach and back. What was his problem?

  “Why do you even care, Byron?” I tried with everything I had to hide my annoyance, but it was useless. Even to my ears I sounded on the edge of making a whole drama of a thing that wasn’t important. I was being a real girl, exactly what he didn’t want in a roommate.

  “It’s not safe to go out alone at night for a woman.”

  He ran two fingers along his scar, breathing loud in the quiet living room. The TV was on, but it was muted, like he was listening to every sound to be sure he wouldn’t miss me coming back home. It was ill, but knowing that I had that kind of control over this tough guy was thrilling. No guys ever worried about me beside Macon and my dad, but it didn’t count since one was gay and the other one offered his spermatozoids to my mom to conceive me.

  “Who said I was alone?” I replied, turning my back to him and throwing my green handbag next to the couch. This time I made sure my iPhone was in my jeans pocket before letting go.

  His frown deepened, and his shoulders tensed even more. He gritted his teeth. The muscles in his jaw flexed under his scruff and everything in him sharpened. His blue eyes turned a cold silver that pinned me.

  “What friend of mine did you give a blow-job to this time? Eliott?” he asked deadly, his voice quieter than a second before.

  I shook my head and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something I’d regret. I might not have many filters, but I had the most important. I had the one keeping me from being a mean girl only trying to hurt someone else just because she was the one being hurt. I shouldn’t even hurt to begin with; I wouldn’t if I hadn’t given him the opportunity to hurt me. Our flirting game had gone way too far.

  “I can do whatever I want, Byron.”

  He walked to me, grabbed both of my shoulders with his strong hands and held on. Even now when he was almost growling with anger, I could feel a desire awakened by the simple touch of his skin against mine. It wasn’t sensual, wasn’t soft, and sure wasn’t with an afterthought, and yet, I was already aching for him in all the right—and wrong—places.

  His eyes were unyielding and hard, but something was amiss. I couldn’t point out what, but there was something there that shouldn’t be.

  “Who was with you?”

  I shook him off me, but I regretted it immediately when I saw the pain in his eyes. I swallowed, but I felt all wrong. It was like my body wasn’t moving the right way, like my intake of breath wasn’t in the right rhythm, like my feelings weren’t the right ones because I shouldn’t want to feel his big, strong arms around me when he was being … jealous? Was he jealous?

  “Stop it!”

  “Answer me! Or maybe you’re ashamed of who you fucked.”

  I pushed him again. “You’re a fucking asshole doubled with a hypocrite!” I yelled to his face, feeling dizzy as my breathing became labored. My face felt hot. I wanted to slap him, but that wasn’t me. I could never even slap Ryan, so I wasn’t going to start slapping guys tonight. “You’ve slept with a different girl every fucking night for the past week, and you dare to treat me like a whore! What’s your problem?”

  He towered over me, and even if our height wasn’t that different, with his muscular body and the anger radiating from him, I felt tiny and fragile. I wasn’t tiny, and I sure wasn’t that fragile. It was … unsettling. I had a hard time not looking away from the intensity in his eyes, but I kept my chin high. He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. He moistened his lips, and the atmosphere shifted. No, it didn’t shift because the anger was still there, but now it was laced with lust. And frustration.

  “You’re driving me completely nuts. That’s my fucking problem,” he growled at me before he turned his back to me and walked to his bedroom, careful to close his door in what I was starting to call the Short Fuse Lord way.

  I released a breath I wasn’t even aware I was holding and swept away my platinum bangs, tugging at it with the frustration that was always following me since I met Byron only … shit! It was only twenty days ago.

  What he didn’t know was that he was driving me nuts, too. Probably more so because every time he brought a girl home to have sex with, it ripped me just a little bit more, opening up old wounds I preferred to forget. Maybe I should think about going back to my parents’ because it wasn’t worth it. It couldn’t be worth it to be like this, to live like this. Maybe if I went back to my parents’ house, I could have Byron for a night. Just one night.

  I shook my head and stomped to my bedroom, ready to read a good smut book before going to sleep. I wasn’t one to lose a challenge, and we made a deal. Five more fucking weeks. I was almost halfway there. Hold on, London.

  Chapter Eleven

  DAY 21

  Byron left an hour ago for his run. We barely exchanged greetings, it was more grunts than anything else, before he ran out. I was still furious at him for his behavior last night, but my eyes enjoyed the view as he walked past me and opened the fridge for a water bottle. With his white teeshirt straining at his broad shoulders and strong arms and his night blue shorts riding low on his strong hips, it was a perfect view. Until he turned toward me; his scowl deepened—and with his scar—it was quite intimidating. Yet, not being one to be easily intimidated, I kept my head high and shrugged before I sat back on the couch.

  And now, one hour later, I was still on the couch, but my novel was forgotten on the coffee table, still open on one hell of a steamy scene. I couldn’t focus on the literary alpha male with the real one taking all the space in my head. I hated it!

  I gazed outside and saw the dark clouds that invaded the earlier blue sky. It rarely rained around here, but whenever it was raining, I loved to go outside and let the rain wash over me, plastering my clothes to my body. I stood up when the first fat drops of rain fell and didn’t think twice before I took my keys and ran down the stairs. I was alone in the parking lot, standing like a lunatic as the rain, quite warm, was falling on me and around me. I took a deep breath and finally relaxed. I closed my eyes and listened to the drops falling soundly on the roof of the cars parked close by and the way it fell on the buildings. I tilted my face up and smiled before opening my mouth.

  “Are you fucking crazy? Don’t even answer that and bring your ass back home.”

  I lost my smile instantly. It was quite unnerving to be equally turned on by hearing his deep growl of a voice and annoyed to hear it. I opened my eyes, pushed back my hair that was flat around my face, unattractively so if I believed how his clear blue eyes were detailing me with a frown.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He waved at the building behind me impatiently. “Last time I checked, I live here.”


  “Don’t play dumb, Byron.” I tightened my grip on my keys, debating on running to my car and seeking refuge at Macon’s, but I quickly dismissed it. I wasn’t crazy enough to go to Macon’s dorm while dripping wet. If I was a skinny girl maybe, but right now my clothes were highlighting all my flaws with the denim of my jeans sticking to my thick thighs, my white t-shirt showing my not so flat stomach and large hips. I wasn’t at my best. “You never come back after only an hour of running.”

  He pointed at the dark sky. “It’s raining.”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle bubbling. He frowned even more. “You’re not going to melt.” But he was ten times sexier than when he left. “And you’re a soldier! Aren’t you used to extreme weather or something like that?”

  “I wasn’t in the Special Forces, Bridge.” He walked closer to me and grabbed my wrist. “Now, let’s go inside. I don’t even want to know what’s gotten into you to go outside in this pouring rain.”

  I pulled away and shook my head. This guy was unbelievable. Last night he was playing some kind of weird intrusive game, and now he was trying to make me do what he wanted without taking in to account what I wanted.

  “Go inside if you want.”

  He sighed and traced his scar with his index finger, just like whenever he was frustrated or nervous or … whenever he was feeling something out of the ordinary. “Don’t be such a girl, Bridge.”

  “For your info, I didn’t have a penis that grew up last night.”

  A hint of a smile turned his lips higher on the right side, and I lost the fight in me. Instead, I was feeling quite … needy. The physical kind. I was craving to roll my eyes at myself.

  “I’m glad because right now I want to kiss you to shut you up. Like the last time,” he replied loud enough for me to hear him over the pounding rain. His voice was gruff and enticing, speaking to my body directly as my heart made a somersault and my nipples tightened. Or maybe it was the rain. It was always the same thing around him, my body betrayed me.