by Ella Maise
His words sank in, and I felt another flush in my cheeks. He was right—I actually hated people who stereotyped everyone, people who judged before actually getting to know a person. I was making an ass of myself yet again. Maybe it was something about him that unsettled me? That triggered the word vomit? It was easier to put the blame on him instead of admitting I was acting like a bitch.
Letting go of the door handle, I shook my head and backed up. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know you. I know a few people who play and just because they would rather die than open a book or take notes, that doesn’t mean you’re like that too. I’m sorry.” I reached for my own door and broke our brief eye contact, mostly focusing on his ear and the window behind him—anywhere but his eyes. “This is my room.” I pointed over my shoulder. “I’ll let you get settled in and maybe see you around later.” I opened the door and before disappearing inside, I turned back. “Oh, about the desk—I don’t have one in my room either, so I bought one off of Craigslist last year. It’s in the living room. I’m not sure if you saw it with everything else going on, but my camera equipment was on it. It’s pretty small, but it gets the job done. I rarely use it anyway, mostly use the coffee table. I’ll get my stuff off of it, so you’re welcome to use it anytime you want.”
Without waiting for an answer, I closed my door.
Alone—finally.
After resting my forehead against the door for a few seconds, I quietly banged my head on it and didn’t even care that he could hear.
Chapter Five
Dylan
Two hours had passed since I had settled into my new room and Zoe had disappeared into hers. So far, I had been attacked, and with a rolling pin, no less. I’d been flashed (granted, not voluntarily) and stereotyped, all by the same girl—the same girl who had intrigued me so much the two times we’d bumped into each other. I was still intrigued, maybe even more so, and I knew I shouldn’t have been. I’d mistaken a few girls for her a handful of times, which meant my eyes had been searching for her ever since our last run-in and I wasn’t even fully aware of it. That same girl was my new roommate.
Life was a tricky bitch sometimes.
Lightly knocking on her door three times, I relaxed against the frame and waited.
Zoe opened the door—only slightly—and her head peeked through the opening.
“Yes?”
“I thought we should talk.”
“About?”
“About this whole thing. If we’re going to live together, we should get to know each other. At the very least, I should know more about you than just your first name—your last name to start, perhaps?”
“What do you need my last name for?” She looked back over her shoulder. “It’s eleven thirty, getting a little late—maybe we could do that tomorrow?”
I bet she’d have loved to just avoid me altogether. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Are you going to bed?”
Holding on to the door, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. For the first time since answering the door, she looked up at me as she grudgingly answered. “Not yet.”
Taking my hands out of my pockets, I straightened. “Come on. I’ll ask you a few questions, you’ll ask me a few, then we’ll both go to bed and rest a bit easier about our new situation.” Already walking away from her, I added over my shoulder, “Not to mention, I’ll be reassured that you’re not going to try to attack me with a rolling pin in my sleep.”
Hearing her mutter something under her breath, I let her follow me at her own pace. When I glanced back over my shoulder, she was pulling on the hem of her shirt, looking down at her feet.
“Clarke,” she mumbled, her gaze still fixed on the hardwood floor as she stood in the middle of the living room. This time, she spoke loud enough for me to hear.
I turned back. “Sorry?”
“My last name…it’s Clarke.”
“See, that wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” I gave her a quick grin, which she chose to ignore. “Mine is Reed.”
“I know. Everybody knows your name.”
“Oh? I remember you telling me that the second time we met. You a football fan? Come to any of our games?” Since she and her family were close to Coach—close enough that they shared an apartment, apparently—I thought maybe she’d attend the games with them.
“Not really.”
Her gaze briefly met mine then darted around the room as she tried to decide where to move to.
I had to be quick before she rounded the couch and saw the object of my first official ‘getting to know my roommate’ question. “My first question is…” I reached down to grab the unexpected find and turned to face Zoe. “Should I prepare myself to find more stuff like this innocently laying around the place? Or is this the only one?” Her jaw slowly dropped open, and even though I was trying my best to sound as serious as I could, the horror on her face was too much. I lost it and laughed. “You should see your face, Zoe Clarke.”
Her gaze was locked on the pink, ten-inch vibrator held loosely in my hand, which seemed to have all the bells and whistles. “Oh my God,” she managed to say, all breathless. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, I believe that’s what it is generally used for.” I was already having more fun than I’d expected to have on my first night with her. “So, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you forgot you dropped it between the couch cushions and that’s not your usual hiding place?”
“It’s not mine,” she croaked out, walking toward me in quick steps. The familiar pink had risen in her cheeks again. I handed her the embarrassing item before she could start a tug of war and watched her carefully pluck it from my hand with two fingers.
My smile grew bigger. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. Masturbating is healthy.”
The light flush on her cheeks seemed to spread more by the second. After giving me a death glare, she walked away without a second glance.
I chuckled to myself. I wouldn’t have put it past her to lock herself in her room and not come back out. It seemed plausible at the time since it was kind of our thing—her blushing and promptly running away. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know anything but her name. When she did actually emerge from her room—which I had not expected her to do—there were no vibrators in sight, but that pink flush was still clinging to her pale skin, making the bright green of her eyes stand out more.
“It’s not mine,” she repeated as she took a seat and tucked her hands under her thighs. “I’m an art major focused in photography. I take photos to make extra money. It’s my job, and that was one of the five vibrators I had to take pictures of for a girl who has a blog. I have no idea how I managed to leave that one behind.” I must have given her a look that pretty much conveyed what I was thinking—bullshit—because her eyes narrowed on me. “Don’t look at me like that. Look around—there are no drapes in this place, so if that was mine, I’d have to…use it right where you are sitting. I’m not an exhibitionist. I’m not about to do it right in front of an open window—not that it’s any of your business if or where I do it at all…” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “I’m just going to shut up now so you can ask whatever it is you want to ask to feel safe in your bed tonight. Then when it’s over, I’ll run back to my room so I can scream into my pillow and pretend tonight never happened.”
Facing the windows was the big brown couch where I’d found the vibrator in question after it poked me in the thigh. There was another two-seater that was a dark mustard color to the right, where she was sitting, wary and pretty much ready to flee. I took my time taking a seat on the far end of the brown couch.
“I don’t want you to do that,” I said softly. When she mustered the courage to look up, I gave her a small smile. “I mean, I don’t want you to run back to your room. I was serious when I said I wanted us to get to know each other.” Her eyes connected with mine for just a second then she was looking at something behind my back. She w
as so shy, but it only made her more attractive and interesting in my eyes.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, this is good. See, I’ve already started to learn things about you. Your name is Zoe Clarke, and you’re not an exhibitionist—noted. I will sleep easier knowing I’m safe from walking in on you doing God knows what. You’re an art student and you’re into photography. You make your own money—props to you on that one. This isn’t so bad, is it?”
“Maybe for you it isn’t.”
“I’m going to ignore that because now it’s your turn. Ask me whatever you want.”
She let out a long breath and tucked her hands back under her thighs again. “I don’t have a question right now.”
“Come on. It could be something as simple as my favorite movie.”
She shot me an exasperated look, and her expression said everything that needed to be said. I wasn’t giving up though—not yet.
“What’s your favorite movie, then?”
I leaned back in my seat and got comfortable. “Oh, I can’t answer that. I have too many to choose just one. My turn.”
She raised her brows and her lips parted in disbelief. “You just told me to ask you—”
I cut her off before she could finish her sentence. “No, you’re gonna have to wait for your turn. Don’t be a bad sport. Do you still have that boyfriend of yours?”
Her response came out as a squeak. “What?”
“You know, the boyfriend who prevented us from kissing that last time. Still seeing him?”
Her brows drew together and she turned her body toward me, finally pulling her hands out from under her thighs in the process. It was exactly what I wanted her to do—forget about being shy and just be herself around me. If we were going to live together for however long, it would make things easier for both of us. Getting her to actually look into my eyes when we were speaking would be a nice bonus too. If making her angry was necessary to achieve my goal, I was fine with that.
“I don’t think that’s something you need to know to sleep safe in your bed.”
“I think it is, actually. I know we decided you’re not an exhibitionist, but I could still come to your room to ask for a cup of sugar and end up walking in on you two and have it scar me for the rest of my life. If I know he’ll be around, I’ll make sure to not come knocking for sugar.”
Her lips were twitching when she gave me an answer. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to walk in on anyone. Your delicate feelings are safe. Mark doesn’t want me to have friends over, so you won’t be seeing anyone around at all.”
That perked me up, so I scooted forward and focused all my attention on her. “Mark?”
Looking away, she reached for a colorful pillow and started to strangle it. “Your coach…Mark. He’s not my coach, so I can call him by his name.”
“Sure you can. So you didn’t really answer my question—do you have a boyfriend or not?”
“No.”
I was in the process of trying to decide if that was a good or bad thing for me and was heavily leaning toward bad when she grunted and sighed.
“Okay, I lied. Let’s say I have a boyfriend and it’s complicated.”
“You lied?” Was she telling the truth now? I couldn’t tell, but if she was, I was guessing she wasn’t good at keeping secrets and I’d end up learning everything about her complicated relationship either way. “That’s actually okay, I think. It’ll make things easier.” I leaned back again. “I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment, but I can behave.”
She gave me a questioning look, eyes narrowing, head slightly tilting to the side. “I got you—I know that’s a lie. Maybe you were right and this getting to know each other thing isn’t a bad idea.”
“I’m the liar?” I asked, pointing at myself as my brows drew together. “I believe you’re the one who admitted to lying—twice, so far. What makes you think I’m lying to you? And about what?”
Copying my move, she scooted forward in her seat. “Because I happen to know you actually do have a girlfriend, and before you accuse me of stalking you, I’m not—I didn’t. I saw your Snap on Campus Stories. After I saw the way you were kissing her, I’d say she is the definition of a girlfriend, but I guess with so many girls throwing themselves at you, you can’t bother to label someone as your girlfriend and bind yourself to only one person. Why stay with one when you can sample so many more, right?”
“I don’t use social media.”
“Then it was her account, I guess.”
“Huh.” She was still looking at me expectantly, so sure she had me cornered. “Is this how you are to all people, or is it just me that brings out this side of you? First the desk comment and now this—do you have something against athletes?”
Her expression faltered. “What?”
I rubbed my neck and sighed. I was the one who had insisted we do an impromptu Q&A, but I hadn’t thought she’d start with all the hard questions. “It’s true, I did have a girlfriend a week ago, or maybe it’s been longer…I haven’t really kept track, but it doesn’t matter. I walked in on her getting fucked by two of my teammates, so that was pretty much the end of our relationship, which is also why I need a new place to stay. By the way, not all athletes do what they do just so they can have their fill of girls. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t put everyone in the same box. Some of us choose to stay away from distractions at all costs, and some of us like the attention. You can’t decide which category I fall into before you make an effort to know me. I’m not a liar, and I have a very hard time dealing with them. Me being an athlete doesn’t make me any less than some guy you’d fall for.” Why did I have to put it like that? Fuck me… Nobody was going to do any kind of falling. “Again, I’m a little disappointed. I didn’t figure you to be judgmental. My bad.”
Maybe this getting to know each other thing wasn’t one of my best ideas. Maybe I should’ve kept my head down and just co-existed.
I stood up. “This wasn’t a good idea. Good night, Zoe—”
“No,” she burst out, jumping up. “No. Please, don’t go. I’m sorry, Dylan. You’re right. I’m not like this. I’m being a judgmental bitch, and I’m not like that, trust me. I have no idea what’s wrong with me tonight. I think after what happened earlier, thinking I was about to be killed by a clown and then the shock of realizing you were the intruder…anyway, the reason doesn’t matter anyway. Sometimes when I’m nervous I talk too much and it’s just a bad case of word vomit.” She gestured at herself with her hand. “See, I’m still talking, aren’t I? I should stop, I know I should, yet I can still hear myself talking, but you know what? You’re right—if we’re going to share an apartment, we should at least know a few things about each other.” She came to stand in front of me, rose up on her tiptoes to reach my shoulders, and pushed me back down on the couch.
Then she was off walking toward the kitchen area that overlooked the living room. “I’m gonna make us coffee and we’re going to talk until you’re sure you’re in a safe place and not living with a bitchy lunatic who will attack you in your sleep.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “Though, I have to point out, you did scare the living shit out of me by walking in unannounced and all creepy like, so I’m just putting it out there that the rolling pin thing shouldn’t be on me. That one was all you.”
Standing behind the island that separated the small kitchen area from the living room, she stopped speaking. When I just kept staring at her instead of answering, she tucked her hair behind her ear and waited expectantly.
I relaxed in my seat and threw my arm over the back of the couch so I could watch her do her thing. “I can’t have coffee this late because I have an early practice, but I’ll have milk if you have it.”
“Just milk?”
I nodded.
“Okay, see, I’m not even gonna make fun of you for drinking milk, though from the size of you, I can tell you’re not a growing boy anymore. Hell, you know what? I’ll even drink some with you.”
U
nexpectedly, she drew a laugh out of me, and I won a smile from her. Just like that, it struck me that she would stand out no matter where she was, and I was stupid for mistaking other people for her. A few seconds passed as we smiled at each other.
“Right…milk.” She lifted a finger and checked the fridge, her head disappearing from view completely. She shifted a few things around and leaned farther in until all I could see was her ass.
“It’s fine if you don’t have it. I don’t need to have a drink to chat with you.”
“Got it!” she yelled as she came out with a box of milk held high. “Just let me check the expiration date. And…we’re good.”
After filling two glasses, she offered me one and went back to her seat. Resting her glass on the armrest, she sat cross-legged and took a sip of milk with a shy little smile on her face. I just stared.
“Sorry, I don’t have any of those fancy milks—soy milk, almond milk, oat milk, or whatever other new kind I don’t know about. I make extra money to get by, but it’s not that much.” She nodded at my untouched glass. “It’s okay if you’re not used to cow milk or something. You don’t have to drink it.”
I settled back and drank half of it. “What makes you say that?” I asked as calmly as possible.
“I just assumed since you’re a football player you drink healthier stuff like green juice, or other fancy milks…” She took a deep breath and blew out her cheeks, all the while keeping her eyes somewhere over my shoulder. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
I grinned at her and took another gulp from my glass.
She groaned and covered her face with her palm. “I think you should do all the talking for a while. I’m acting like a complete asshole. So, please, ask anything you want…please.”
I drank the last of the milk and set the glass on the coffee table in front of me. She held her own glass between her palms and took a small sip. I watched her discreetly licking her upper lip to make sure she had no milk mustache.