Roommates

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Roommates Page 17

by Erin Leigh


  “Yeah, sure.” I relent. It’s not the answer I want to give but this is about compromise.

  We finish eating, laughing, and talking. I don't honestly think about stripping her naked until we walk back out into the rain. She lifts her hood up and waits for me to come out after holding the door for her. I reach and take one of her small hands in mine, lifting it and kissing. The softness of her skin drives me wild.

  Grandma Coldwell.

  “So when is your next game?” She leans into me, smelling like vanilla.

  “Next Thursday. It’s a home game against Hershey.”

  “Chocolate?” She looks up, confused.

  “The Bears. We played—”

  “You played them already. You beat them. That was the game you scored like three goals.”

  “Two goals and an assist.” It makes me smile. I can’t even pretend I don't love the fact she’s learning the game and keeping track.

  “What?” She nudges me.

  “Nothing, honestly. I just like it that you’re so obviously into me.”

  She shoves me a bit. “You’re into me. You’re going to be strutting your stuff in front of hordes of book chicks; I know you like me.”

  “It’s true.” I wrap myself around her and kiss the tip of her nose. “I do like you.”

  She beams back. “I like you too.”

  I lower my face to hers, pressing against her lips. She doesn't kiss passionately. She nestles into the kiss and stays there, offering me no chance for tongue.

  She’s serious about the whole not screwing, which works. I’m actually full from finishing all the rolls she ordered.

  Chapter Thirty

  Moves like Jagger

  Natalie

  Sami’s driver gives us both a look, still waiting for us to get in.

  I scowl at Brady. “We’re letting Vincenzo drive us. Stop being a baby. You are going to make us late for the dinner she’s having.”

  “Actually, Miss Banks, I am only driving you to the helicopter pad. The pilot is awaiting you there. You have plenty of time to argue.” He winks at me.

  “Even better.” Brady rolls his eyes.

  I grab his hand and drag him into the limo. “Just do it, this once.”

  He gives me an annoyed face. “It won’t ever be this once. It’ll always be once more, and then eventually I’ll be snapping my fingers and telling Jeeves there to bring round the car. I don’t do the whole servants thing.”

  I cover my face as Vincenzo closes the door. “That's not what this is, at all. He’s paid better than you or I, and he’s treated like family. He’s also a ninja, not even kidding. And the pilot for sure makes more than you and I combined. They like working private security and transport. They like their jobs. And his name is Vincenzo, and he’s incredibly polite and kind. If Sami snapped her fingers her dad would swat them and take away her employees. They aren’t the help. You see that, right?”

  He snarls and looks out the window of the limo as Vincenzo drives us away from my apartment.

  “Why are you so cranky?” I slide into the seat next to him, rubbing his leg.

  He jumps, dodging my touch. “It's nothing.” He turns and forces a stupid smile on his lips. “I’m fine.”

  “Wow, using the ‘fine’ on a girl? Don't steal our lines.”

  He smiles for real. “I’m a bit, uh, pent up.” He gives me a look. “Coach says I’ve never played better though.”

  “Pent up?” I regret asking it right away. “Oh.” A cruel grin forces me to look away. I don't want him to think I’m mocking his pain. I also don't believe in the whole ‘it hurts so good’ crap.

  He scoops me into his arms, kissing my neck and sitting me on his lap. “Pent up because you think it’s funny to torment me.” His hands trail up my sides, tiptoeing and tickling.

  “I swear, I don't.” I squirm and struggle, which results in my giggling and rubbing my butt all over his lap. He holds me tight, but it’s too late. I feel it pressing against me. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were compensating.” I tease and glance back.

  He grins, grinding me into it a little as his breath brushes against the back of my neck. I spin, turning to face him, putting us pelvis to pelvis.

  I lick and kiss his neck, whispering, “I intend to make it worth your while, finally.”

  His hands creep down my back, cupping my ass. The way his fingers dig in make me gasp. “No, Nat. I’m going to make it worth your while.” He kisses and squeezes and then lifts me onto my seat. “But not in here with another man driving my ass around.” He winks and looks out the window.

  I cross my legs and get comfortable, feeling weird about his discomfort with all things Sami. It’s not my type of life, but I can sit back and relax in it.

  “So does it all make you uncomfortable or just the driver?”

  “No, the helicopter is sort of cool. The yachts and country clubs and drivers and maids and cooks—that I can do without. I think they can do without it too. I mean, honestly, who has a life so big they need other people to live it for them?” He shrugs like what he’s said is simple but it’s not. It’s complex and smart and he’s so much more than he seems. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He makes me smile.

  “You know it’s true, Nat. Me and you, we aren’t like these people. Even if we had all the money in the world, we would never be these people. We have common sense.” He smiles. “I mean, you have some.”

  “I have more than some.” I swat at him, but he catches my hand and kisses the back of it.

  “No, you don't. But you’re getting better at not being a princess. Having a job helps.” He chuckles at himself.

  “Oh my God.” I roll my eyes but I don't argue. I can’t argue.

  When we get to the helicopter pad, Vincenzo parks and opens the door for us. I climb out, offering the kind older gentleman a soft smile. “Thank you.”

  Brady does the same but nods. “Thank you, sir.”

  Vincenzo laughs and shakes his head, climbing back into the driver’s seat.

  The helicopter has the blades rotating slowly as we approach so we crouch and run for the open door. Brady goes from an indignant snob to a small boy in a matter of minutes. Essentially, it happens when he puts the headphones on and the pilot greets us.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The frank and the beans

  Brady

  The flight was amazing. Landing on top of a building in New York as the city lights are coming on is something else.

  Sami and Matt meet us on the roof of her father’s building.

  “Blow Job!” Matt comes running toward me, slapping me on the back with a quick bro hug. “How was the flight?”

  “Pretty awesome. How’s it going?”

  “I’m sorry, did he just call you Blow Job?” Natalie gives Mattie and me a look.

  “He did. He always does.” Sami wrinkles her nose. “It’s his pet name for him.”

  Matt nudges me. “His initials are BJ and that's what his mom calls him.”

  “So my brother got me a jersey made that said Blow Job on it with my number forty-seven. The name sort of stuck.”

  “Besides the fact he gives a mean BJ,” Matt says it poker-faced until my light jab lands in his guts.

  “Gross.” Nat cocks an eyebrow and lets Sami lead her away.

  “They didn't look impressed.”

  “They never do. I think it’s the Botox.” I laugh and follow the girls.

  “So explain the cover model of the year award for me, because I don't get it.” Matt again tries to keep a straight face.

  Nat gives Sami a burning glare. “You swore.”

  “He stole my phone and took it in the bathroom while he was taking a crap. I couldn’t go in there and get it back.” Sami tries to defend herself, but Nat turns and points at Matt.

  “Harass him about this even once, and I publish that little video of you.”

  Matt shuts his mouth and nods, earning a laugh from Sami.

&nbs
p; “What video?”

  “She got him mid striptease, and he did the whole Something About Mary thing and zipped his wiener a bit.” Sami laughs harder.

  “We agreed never to talk about this again.” Matt’s face turns bright red. “You swore.”

  “I might not talk about it, but I still own it. Don't make me use it. I don't want to destroy you. Don't force me.”

  He gives me a look, but I shake my head. “You’re on your own, Bro.”

  “Let’s get a drink.” He slides an arm around my shoulders and leads me to the bar in the back of the penthouse suite. It’s, of course, ridiculous with a view of most of the city and the bridge. He passes me a beer and leans against the counter with his scotch. “So you’re looking good. Second lead scorer for the Wolf Pack and most assists, and the defenseman with the least amount of penalty minutes. I heard the coaches talking about you and Mike.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, man. They said that you both are looking like talent they wanna bring up. You should try for a hat trick in the next game. When is it?”

  “Thursday against Hershey.”

  “Nice. Well, they’re watching you. You should try to capitalize on that. Warner is working with an injury that’s pretty bad. He’s making it through, but I think he’ll be out for the season if he takes one hit.”

  “Not to drink to a guy’s misfortune, but I hope I get my chance.” I lift my beer and let him clink his against it.

  Our eyes drift to where the girls are laughing and looking at their phones.

  “So Nat’s awesome.” He grins.

  “You’re a smug fuck.”

  “Hey, we matched you quite well I think. If the NHL doesn't pan out for me, I might try my hand in matchmaking.” He lifts his hands innocently. “Honestly, you were only supposed to distract her, Bro, not marry her.”

  “Whatever. You’re a fine one to talk. You and Sami?”

  He sighs. “I can’t shake her.” He sounds serious. “She’s in my veins.” His eyes burn and I imagine his guts are too. I know the feeling well.

  “What’s the plan for tonight?” I ask nonchalantly. I don't want to be a dick, but it’s Nat’s birthday and I have plans for us which he knows all about.

  “Dinner and some drinks and whatever.” He grins.

  “It’s her birthday.”

  “I know. I took care of everything on that end. But it’s not till midnight so calm your tits. Like I would have forgotten her birthday anyway, Sami hasn't shut up about it for two weeks. If she ever leaves me, I know it’ll be for Nat.”

  “Which means I’ll be single. You can crash with me.”

  He laughs. “Deal.”

  The night goes by fast. Dinner is at the fancy schmancy place where we don't even get a bill. Then drinks at some bullshit bar where you can only order dessert and martinis. It doesn't even make sense.

  We laugh and drink and visit until Nat is starting to look tired. As we get closer to midnight I start to get worried we won’t be at the room in time.

  I’m saved when she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Ready to go?”

  “An hour ago,” I lean in and mutter into her neck where I plant a kiss.

  She pulls back and gives Sami a look. “We’re going to head for our hotel.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see if Vincenzo wants to drive you.” Sami grins directly at me.

  “Funny. We can get a cab.”

  She gives me a look as she leans in and wraps her arms around Nat.

  I nod, hoping we’re both talking about the birthday that's going to be upon us at midnight.

  Matt slaps me on the back. “Good luck tomorrow, hey!” He winks and makes weird faces.

  “Whatever, freak.” I wave at Sami and flip him off as I wrap an arm around Nat, escorting her from the weirdly matched bar.

  “You tired?” She gives me a side eye glance.

  “I am beat.” I force a yawn and hail a cab as we hit the street. One stops immediately. I get the door for her and nod at the cabbie. “Marriott Marquis.”

  “Yes, sir.” He drives and I fight to look tired.

  She leans on my arm, melting into me, actually looking exhausted. The way we touch has always been more comfortable than it has ever been with any girl, but this last week she’s gotten even more at ease.

  When we first moved in together she went from tense and stressful to flirty and funny in a matter of days, maybe because we were never going to be more than friends so I was an easy person to be around.

  The real test has been this last week. We’ve spent all of it trying not to have sex. We’ve succeeded more than we’ve failed, which is huge. Especially for me. I don't usually hang out with girls except to get laid. She has been the exception to that rule.

  The city flashes by us in a series of bright lights and loud noises. She rests her head comfortably on my arm and closes her eyes.

  Every bit of me just wants to seduce her, but I think the plan I have going is the best one I could have come up with. She looks like an angel.

  The cabbie stops abruptly, making her eyes open wide as she sits up and stares around her.

  “We’re here.” I wink and slide the man in the front some cash. I get the door and pull her out, helping her stand. “How are you so tired?” Our hotel is in Times Square so it doesn't feel like it’s night or even dark. This is the heart of the city that never sleeps.

  “Fridays are hard for me. This nine-to-five gig is exhausting. Normally, I power through, but I’m just bagged this week.”

  That makes me laugh as I pull her to where the doorman gets the door for us. This part of the city is booming with huge flashing lights and billboards and noise. So much noise.

  “Good evening.” He nods. I hardly even hear him.

  “Thanks.” I walk to the front desk.

  “Mr. Coldwell, hello. Welcome. Your bags are in your room already.” The man at the front desk smiles and nods, handing me two keys. He winks, no doubt because of the special request I have made.

  I glance at the clock. We have three minutes until her birthday.

  “Don't we need to check in?” she asks as I pull her to the elevator. It’s one of those cool ones that goes on the outside of the building, so you can see this part of the city from inside.

  “No.” I hand her one of the keys.

  When we get inside, I slide my card in and press our floor. She leans against me, taking a deep breath and blinking slowly. Neither of us turns and looks at the stunning view to our backs. We aren’t those people who are impressed by Broadway and all its splendor. We’ve both been to Manhattan enough times to have seen it.

  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty.” I pull her from the doors as they open. Our suite is at the end of the hall, apparently the one with the best view of Central Park. She grumbles about something as I slip the key in and I smile when I see it.

  I wrap an arm around her, covering her eyes and lead her inside the doorway.

  “What are you doing?” She pulls at my hand, but she doesn't stand a chance.

  “Shhhhh.” I take in the beauty of it all for a moment. The room isn’t anything special, just the deluxe suite. But it’s been done up in candles and balloons and streamers. There’s a cupcake tray and a fruit tray and the bed is covered in rose petals.

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NAT is spelled out in glow sticks on the coffee table and flameless candles are spread around to create an ambiance.

  “Did you just shush me, seriously?” She claws at my hand so I lower it and let her feel bad about scratching me.

  “Oh my God!” She covers her mouth and looks around the room. Her eyes are wide and a little watery, but she doesn't cry. “Oh my God!”

  “Happy birthday, Nat.” I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. She turns and gives me the sweetest smile. “I didn't know what the appropriate gift was for the one-week relationship, so I got this.”

  “Two weeks and it’s perfect.”

  Her counting weeks should scare me but it doesn't. T
he amazed look on her face says everything I want to hear.

  “Thank you.” She turns and looks at it again. “But how?”

  “I had some help.”

  She sighs and touches the rose petals. “Sami?”

  “No, she can’t keep a secret like this. Matt. He came and made sure they understood what I wanted exactly.” Something about seeing her so excited fulfills me. I don't know why I care so much so soon, but I do. I can’t deny my feelings for her. I don't want to. It goes against everything I have ever worked for. She is technically the perfect distraction. I am on the cusp of succeeding and joining the Rangers, and yet I would choose this moment to fall for an angel. And not even care about doing it. At least I moved out. It hurt to do it, but it was the right choice. I like her too much.

  I almost reach down and grab my balls, just to see if they’ve fallen like Andy said they would. I think I’m cured of my same-girl-itis.

  She pulls me to the bed, spilling petals and making shadows as she dances through the candlelight and my heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Male model

  Natalie

  We look different than the other people here.

  The artists and models don't have Sami’s closet to shop in, so my dress happens to outshine the rest without being fancier. They have dresses from regular shops and I have haute couture. I assumed a New York awards ceremony would be filled with stylish people. But they’re more like the people I work with in mediocre attempts at dressy. The writers are even worse. They look like they would rather be anywhere but here. Socially awkward maybe, even more so than the artists. And the male models all have beards, man buns, and tattoos on the their necks and arms. They look badass which is funny because the clean-shaven pretty boy next to me is badass, you’d just never guess it.

  “Did I mention you look really beautiful?” Brady leans in and whispers against my neck again.

  “About a hundred times.” I lean in, enjoying the feel of him. I’m so glad he’s here and I’m not alone. The lady announcing is too excited about all the books; most of them I have never heard of. I don't know the authors but the genre is New Adult and Young Adult, and for some reason these women and men are more famous than anyone I know in the real world. People go crazy in the crowd when the sub genres are announced. Paranormal is akin to a Beatles performance in the sixties.

 

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