Roomie Wars Box Set (Books 1-3)

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Roomie Wars Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 20

by Kat T. Masen


  A loud sound startles us followed by a masked man jumping in front of our path. Zoey screams, throwing herself at me as I almost topple over.

  The masked man moves, and with Zoey’s face buried deep into my chest, I pull her along not wanting to delay the people behind us. We turn the corner into a small hallway with bloodied walls. A steam machine blows over, blurring our vision. The sound of a witch laughing echoes in the room, and just before the door opens, a hand lingers over our shoulders causing Zoey to scream once again in my ear.

  “I’m moving to London.”

  “What?” I can barely hear, the haunting screams damaging my eardrums.

  “I’m moving to London. Next week. For work. Mr. Becker offered me a position, and it was too good to pass up.”

  “You’re moving to London?”

  I move away from where she’s standing. Even though Mia had told me, hearing it from Zoey adds a whole new meaning. Zoey has a tendency not to follow through with plans, but something tells me this time is different.

  “Aren’t you happy for me? You keep telling me to live my life and—”

  “Did you even think about how I’d feel in this? And you spring this on me now? Here?” I shoot back while struggling to compose myself.

  “But I thought—”

  “You don’t think!” I yell back. “It’s all about you.”

  Taken aback, she ignores the ghoulish man walking toward her. “Who else would it be about?” she says, puzzled.

  I look into her eyes, and I know she can read my thoughts. Her face changes, almost a look of pity, then she reaches out her hand to touch my arm and I instantly recoil. Pulling back, not wanting her to feel sorry for me because I’m the fucking dick who has feelings for her, but she doesn’t feel the same way.

  “Don’t,” I growl.

  “Drew. I think we need to talk.”

  I turn around quickly, desperate to get out of here. “We’re done talking.”

  Even in the darkness, I find my way ignoring the masked men with chainsaws, zombies attacking, and even the eerie-looking clown at the end. The exit is illuminated, and easily, I’m outside amongst the busy crowds of people.

  Gigi and Mia are standing at the game-stand shoving ping pong balls into the clown’s mouth. Zoey continues to call my name, but I ignore her walking fast toward the exit of the amusement park.

  Fumbling for my keys, I hit the electronic button until the alarm sounds, and the lights flicker on the car. She’s on my tail, out of breath.

  “Whose car is this?” she strains, holding her side as she catches her breath.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It’s yours? But you hate cars like this. This isn’t you.”

  I ignore her comment, opening the door. “Drew. Will you fucking turn around and talk to me?”

  I stop, turn around, glowering while she watches me with doleful eyes. “What do you want to talk about, Zoey?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. How about the fact that you appear to be angry at me? That you’re running away from me.”

  “I’m running away?” I laugh. “You’re the one moving to the other side of the world.”

  “For work,” she says, exasperated. “For months, all I heard from you was how pathetic I was. How I’ve let myself go. I’m doing this for me. Why can’t you see that?”

  Not once did I call her pathetic. Yes, she’s let herself go, but she doesn’t need to go to London to find herself. The idea alone is preposterous.

  “All you’re doing is running away. Like you always fucking do. I’m done, Zoey.”

  “You’re done?” she hisses, crossing her arms as she takes a step back. “With what?”

  “Done with all the drama you seem to bring along with you. I can’t continue feeling this way about you,” I throw back at her, admitting the truth.

  “What way, Drew? We’re roomies,” she chokes, turning away and refusing to make eye contact with me.

  “What’s the point anymore?” I put my hand in my pocket and pull out the small yellow box. “Here you go. Happy birthday, Zoey.”

  I should turn away, get in the car, and drive off at record speed. Instead, I wait, almost holding my breath as she carefully opens the box and pulls out the gold chain with the pineapple pendant.

  With downcast eyes and quivering lips, she remains quiet while removing the chain from the box.

  “Drew,” she murmurs. “It is… it’s perfect.” She closes her eyes, clutching the necklace and holding it close to her heart.

  And then it clicks. It would have been perfect if she wasn’t moving to London.

  “I have to go,” I stammer, clutching the door handle and motioning for her to back away.

  “Let me come with you. I’ll just tell Gigi and Mia—”

  “No,” I interrupt. “I need to be alone.”

  She doesn’t say a word and backs off. Placing my keys in the ignition, the engine roars to life. I could easily turn it off, walk to her, and tell her I’m sorry. But everything about tonight just hurts. Real fucking bad.

  I drive straight to the apartment and throw some stuff into my bag. I don’t want to go back to Dad’s but have nowhere else to go. I pull out my cell and dial Kristy’s number asking her if I can crash at her place for a couple of days. It works out perfect since she’s heading out of town until the end of the week, so I will have the place to myself.

  For once, Zoey doesn’t bother me. Not a single text or call to ask where I am or how I am. I don’t blame her. I’ve made myself pretty clear.

  I’m done.

  For the next few days, work keeps me occupied, and by Tuesday I make my way back home facing the inevitable.

  Opening the door, it dawns on me that soon I will open this door to an empty apartment. That no one will greet me, hopelessly throw their keys onto the side table and miss every time, only to leave them sitting on the floor.

  “You’re here.” She offers a faint smile, returning her focus to the television. The movie playing is Dirty Dancing—her favorite.

  On the coffee table sits a bag of low-fat chips and a can of Diet Coke. I want to laugh, and normally, I would. I’d tell her that when it says low fat, it means it still contains fat.

  Chips and Diet Coke are still junk food.

  “I’m here.” It’s all I manage to say.

  “Can we please talk, Drew? I gave you some time, but I really need to talk to you.”

  I sit on the sofa purposely keeping my distance. She pauses the movie right before Johnny teaches Baby to dance in the studio. My God, I have seen this movie way too many times. Someone, please hand me my balls back.

  “I wanted to tell you. I really did,” she explains. “But Mr. Becker only sprung it on me a couple of weeks back and so much has been going on.”

  She shifts around uncomfortably twitching as she talks fast. “It’s not an excuse. I want you to understand that I didn’t mean to spring it on you. I only accepted his offer last week, and things between you and me have been so difficult lately. I just wanted you to be proud of me for taking the offer.”

  “I am proud of you…” I soften.

  “It doesn’t feel like it. You’re angry with me. Your eyes keep doing that whirly thing like a cyclone about to hit.”

  “What do you expect?” I try not to lash out, keeping my tone low. “What about rent?”

  I don’t care about rent. I have nothing to say except that I don’t want her to leave and all for my own selfish reasons.

  “I’ve already paid my share for three months. I figured that should cover you until you find a new roommate.”

  “And what about all your stuff? And your family?”

  What about me? That’s what I want to say.

  “I’m only taking a few things, the rest I’ve already gotten rid of or packed up and sent to Mom and Dad’s. As for my parents, they’re sad I’m going but promise to visit.”

  “And you think you’ll get on that plane on your own. With all the plane disappearances
of late?”

  The nerves are etched all over her face. Shifting her focus to the ceiling, her eyes begin to fill with tears. I’m a jerk. I know how much flying terrifies her, yet I had to open my big, fat mouth and question her ability to conquer her fears.

  “I have no choice, Drew. I need to do this. For me.”

  “For you… right.”

  “Will you be okay? Maybe you could visit? We could make a schedule of some sort. Look…” she fidgets nervously with her cell, then shows me some scheduling travel app, “… the traveler’s guide highly recommended it. It could be so much fun. You and me in a foreign city.”

  I grab the remote from where it sits beside her and give her a small smile. “I’ll be fine. And I’m sure you don’t need me to cramp your style.”

  “You wouldn’t be cramping my style…” she mentions softly. “In fact, I would—”

  I interrupt her. “How about we enjoy the rest of the movie? You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

  “Yes.” Her voice croaks while staring back at me with wide eyes. She’s struggling not to blink or show any more emotions in front of me. I desperately want to reach out, hold her in my arms, and tell her everything will be okay. But my pride won’t allow it.

  I don’t want to talk about it anymore and welcome the distraction of turning the movie back on. The scene restarts as Johnny and Baby dance to Hungry Eyes. The entire time I sit here, I’m becoming more miserable as each minute passes. There’s this tight feeling in my chest constricting my airways and interrupting my steady breathing. My palms are sweaty, and all of a sudden, I’m struck down with an awful headache.

  I stretch my neck to the side, trying to release the tension. “I’m heading to bed. You have an early flight, right?”

  “Crack-of-dawn early,” she says plainly.

  “Goodnight, Zoey.”

  I walk away until she stops me, wrapping her arms from behind and hugging me really tight. I don’t want to pull away, and any resistance I feel, I let go of if only for this moment.

  We stand there quietly, without saying a word, until she finally pulls away and walks directly to her room, shutting the door behind her.

  I lie awake, and with my hands resting behind my head, I think about her being in the next room. How for all these years she was just next door. Behind these thin walls. Never once did I think about us not being roomies. Even when she was with Jess, I always had this feeling she wasn’t ready to move out with him. I never worried about it and took for granted all the times we shared, the fun we had, and even the petty arguments that would arise every so often.

  It’s too soon. This isn’t meant to happen yet.

  The door to my bedroom opens slowly making a slight creak. The light from the hallway filters through the crack enough for me to see Zoey tiptoe into my room. The bed moves to one side, and her body, warm and delicate, lies beside mine.

  “Drew,” she whispers, placing her hand on my chest.

  Gently, I place my finger on her lips turning to the side to face her.

  “Shh,” I hush.

  The heat between our bodies lingers, my heart beating erratically as my finger traces the tips of her shoulders. Silence falls over the room, and if I listen carefully, I can hear her beats mirror mine—rapid, accelerated beats echoing like the sound of a drum.

  She whispers my name again almost chanting it in tune with her breathing. “Tonight, let me have tonight. I don’t want to ask you for anything more.”

  One night.

  That’s all she wants.

  A night to remember, an unforgettable moment that will stay with her forever and follow her to London.

  Or maybe, a night to make her stay here with me.

  There are so many words left, so much more that needs to be said, but for now, our words lie here mute.

  I tilt my head and bend just enough that my lips graze hers. They’re soft and taste like Fanta. Our lips move in sync with each other, holding back slightly while our bodies move closer until they’re touching. With her tits pressed against my chest, I distract myself from my raging hard-on that she’s giving me from a simple kiss. A kiss with no tongue.

  My hand slides to her back sneaking in underneath her tank and gliding along her delicate skin. I can feel the heat bouncing off her. It follows with goosebumps as my hands move further up until I’m cupping the back of her neck. It allows me to move her closer and angle her head, so our mouths are positioned perfectly enabling me to slide my tongue inside gently and without too much force.

  Her soft moans melt within our kiss, and as her lips press harder, her body shifts as she climbs on top and straddles me.

  Fuck. Don’t lose control now. It’s too early.

  Pulling away and allowing the air to flow between us, she sits up and watches me. In the darkness, with barely any light, I can still see her. All of her. Inside and out.

  I concentrate on her face—the lust, desire, and bite of the lip that’s driving me insane. Does she know what she’s doing to me? Just this one stare, how animalistic and dangerous this could get. All sense of control is disabled. I’m drowning without a life jacket to save me.

  Her hands move to the bottom of her tank as she slides it up and pulls it over her head.

  She’s wearing no bra.

  Fuck. She’s not wearing a bra.

  I’m mesmerized by the sight of her tits. They’re so full, delicately round, and perky. My mouth is gravitating toward them, and the second my lips touch her erect nipples, she moans out loud burying them in my face.

  I want to lose myself in them rubbing my cock against her with more force, the pleasure consuming all of me. How could this sexy woman be living in the room next door to me for four years? To think of the number of times I could have taken her, buried myself deep inside her while we both screamed in delight.

  My hands lace around her back moving her with ease and positioning myself on top of her body. Pinned to my bed, I don’t hold back pulling her shorts down until she’s bare underneath me.

  She’s a fucking goddess. I want to worship every inch of her, but my body has different ideas. It wants to take her here and now. No more holding back, ignoring the foreplay. I need her whole. I’m fucking selfish, I know. I want to fuck her.

  The frenzy within me doesn’t allow her time to get comfortable, finding its way inside her until I’m all in, and she moans loudly arching her back into the mattress.

  She murmurs my name, and I follow her lead. Thrusting harder, losing myself completely to her whims. Biting my lip hard, I’m struggling to hold back wanting her to reach a breaking point until she can no longer take it and explode all over me.

  “Drew, wait.” She stops me, catching her breath. “We need protection.”

  I’ve completely forgotten.

  I have never forgotten in my life.

  After the lecture I gave her, it would be hypocritical of me to continue on bareback.

  But she feels like fucking heaven—soft, wet, and tight. So nice and fucking tight.

  I lean over to my nightstand opening the drawer and grabbing a spare condom I have lying around. Removing myself from inside her, I quickly put it on and resume position not wanting any more time to pass, scared she will change her mind at any moment.

  This time, I’m going in guns blazing giving my body full control to do whatever it pleases. Her moans become louder, sweet, beautiful music to my ears as I bury myself deeper inside. Picking up the speed, I listen to her body from the way she’s arching her back to her tight grip on my forearms. I want to hear her say it. I need her to say it.

  “Drew…” she moans, moving her arms around to my back and digging her nails deep into my skin.

  The pain is mixed with pleasure, and with one violent thrust, she releases a deep grunt as her pussy contracts around my cock. Every inch of my skin is tingling, and not even a minute later, I follow in delight. Throwing my head into the crook of her neck and releasing myself into her.

  I can’t breathe
seeing only stars and bright fucking lights. The weight of my body feels heavy, and careful not to crush her, my weak limbs move enough that I’m lying beside her.

  Can I tell her now that I love her?

  To not go and stay here with me?

  I’m trying to find the courage, but this euphoric feeling has exhausted me, and for some reason, I’m enjoying the silence. Time to reflect on how perfect that moment was.

  Moving my hand to hers, I pick it up and place it against my lips, kissing it gently. My eyelids become heavy, struggling to stay open until I lose the battle, drifting off.

  In the morning I wake, a smile in tow until I turn over and see the bed empty. The heavy rain is tapping against the window. The weather bureau predicted correctly again. I jump out of bed in only my boxers, noticing the gold foil packet and used rubber sitting on top.

  Thank God. It wasn’t a dream.

  I rush straight for her room, expecting to find her lying in bed. It’s empty. The walls are bare and desk cleared. The bed has been stripped, and the only thing that remains is a box labeled ‘Zoey’s fragile items—Mom & Dad to collect.’

  Agitated and alarmed, I run to the living room and see everything turned off. Swinging back around, I make my way to the kitchen. She’s nowhere to be found, and in the corner of my eye I see an envelope against the coffee machine. I move closer to it and my name is scribbled on the front.

  I pick it up and stare while the envelope shakes in my hand. My temper is out of control, grabbing the mug beside me and throwing it against the wall it smashes into a dozen pieces, mimicking my fucking heart.

  She chose to leave me.

  And last night should have made her stay.

  We are done.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zoey

  They say time flies when you’re having fun, or maybe time flies when you refuse to acknowledge you have a past, and part of you admits you ran away from it.

  Denial—the easiest way to pass time and move on with your life.

  After spending six months in London, the company I work for won a tender for a new project in Dubai. Considering I’m fairly new to the business and am yet to really learn the ropes, the invitation to move to Dubai and assist on this important project came as a surprise. Mr. Becker’s brother, Peter, is a great mentor and believed that I have the intelligence and capability to work with the business in a fast-paced environment.

 

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