Rebel Roommate: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Jeannine Colette

  I go first, and Wes grabs the buzzer to act as my referee. He scoots his chair over, pretending he’s keeping an eye on the competition, and by doing so, he lays his hand on the edge of my seat. I have to take a deep breath to calm the heavy beats it causes in my heart. My chest tightens as the warmth of his body overwhelms me.

  I glance his direction, and the smirk he gives me proves he knows exactly what he’s doing by playing dirty to win the game.

  As I turn the card, I look at the word Astronaut. I yell out, “Guys. Up. There. Flag.”

  He lifts a fist to his mouth and coughs while his other hand lifts my dress. His fingers skim the skin of my leg and shivers run up my body.

  “Shuttle!” I shout carelessly.

  Wes buzzes me as loud as possible and reminds me I’m not allowed to say the word shuttle. I grunt, flipping to the next card, and scoot my chair away from him while giving him the evil eye.

  He groans, and I smile.

  He moves his seat closer again, even more so than last time. Everyone thinks he’s hysterical. I play it off as if he’s utterly annoying.

  Deep down … I love it.

  I stare at the card that says Swimmer.

  I look straight at my mom. “Me. I’m this.”

  Mom smiles, saying, “Beautiful, sweet, kind, amazing.”

  I hear Wes whisper under his breath, “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” as his hand moves up my thigh.

  I get flustered and can’t think of what to say or even what’s going on. I try to recover and say, “No. Mom. What sport—”

  Wes buzzes the beeper again, pointing to the word sport on the card. “Dang, Squid. That’s zero for two.”

  I nudge his hand off my thigh from under the table as the timer runs out. Frustrated, I slide the box that contains the cards over to Wes. He rubs his hands in excitement, ready to get every card right. Now, it’s my turn to distract him.

  I might be a brazen woman when it’s just me and Wes alone in our apartment, but in front of my parents, I’m not as much.

  I’m glad I decided to take off my boots when I cross my legs and let my toe run up the side of his leg, trying to mess with him. Being the focused sports star he is, my efforts do little to break his concentration, so I know I need to pull out the big guns.

  Everyone is staring at him as he attempts to get people to say the correct word. Dad is shouting, Mom is laughing, and Nicole is amused by the action all around us.

  When I hike my skirt up, Wes stutters and loses his train of thought as his eyes follow my hand when it travels up my thigh just as he looks down to flip to a new card.

  The timer runs out. The girls lose, and yet I’m smiling smugly, victorious in my own right.

  After the game is over, with the guys pulling out the victory, we all head off to bed. I try to get Wes alone, but with everyone around and the fact that both Chad and Wes have to sleep on the couch, I’m not able. I hold my phone, wondering if I should text him, but knowing my brother is inches away from him, I can’t risk it.

  I hear the two of them playing poker and laughing over ridiculous stories. For a guy who was adamant about not returning to his hometown, he is blending in effortlessly, as he should. This is how it always was and how it should be.

  Listening to Wes’s voice and the joy he has, being with his best friend, is the only sound in my head as I fall asleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My mom loves shopping Black Friday sales in the stores, and to my surprise, Nicole talked Chad into going with them. While I enjoy a good sale, I prefer to research for the best prices on the internet. The mall is just a magnet for people to buy things they don’t really want anyway.

  Chad grumbles as they load every coupon that came in the paper the past week into a bag and head out in my mom’s car.

  Wes and I smile, knowing we’ll have the day to ourselves since my dad has a script to read.

  With my dad upstairs, Wes sneaks in a quick kiss in the kitchen. “So, what are we going to do today?”

  I step back and cross my arms, mocking him at what he told everyone else he’d be doing today. “I thought you were going to be lazy and veg on the couch, watching football.”

  “Only if you’ll be lying with me. Otherwise, let’s go somewhere, just the two of us.”

  I smile as I curl back into his arms. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been home in years. Let’s drive around.”

  “For someone who hasn’t been back to LA in years, you certainly seem like you are fond of this place.”

  “Maybe it’s being at your parents’ house, but I don’t feel as bad as I thought I would. Makes me want to go out and reminisce about the old days.”

  “Oh, you mean, the days when you tortured me and made sure I didn’t have a life?”

  “Come on.” He pulls me closer, kissing my lips. “We weren’t that bad.”

  I laugh in his face. “Yes, actually, you were.”

  “Okay, fine. Let me make it up to you today.”

  “And how do you expect to do that?”

  “I’ll show you my secret places. Places I would go when your brother wasn’t around and I had nowhere left to escape.”

  Hearing him talk about this like it was totally normal to not want to be in your own home breaks my heart. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  He lowers his head into my shoulder and kisses my skin. “Doesn’t seem so bad if you’re by my side.”

  I hug him tighter. “I’d love to see your special places.”

  We get ready, and I peek into my dad’s study to tell him we’re heading to get food, offering to bring him back something, but knowing he won’t want anything with all the leftovers downstairs. He tells us to have fun, and I hide my laugh when I think of the exact fun I wish we could be sneaking off to do.

  When we get in his car, Wes pulls away from my parents’ house and heads toward Manhattan Village. He leans over to turn the radio to a smooth listening station, winking my direction when he does.

  “Oh, you’re really trying to play this little day up, aren’t you? Are you thinking you’ll get some if you play music I like?” I ask playfully.

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” A cheesy grin spreads across his face.

  “Everytime You Go Away” by Paul Young plays, and he dramatically sings the lyrics to me while also trying to keep his eyes on the road. I laugh out loud at his antics, especially with how he’s really getting into the act.

  After a quick lunch at California Pizza Kitchen, we pop in and out of a few stores in the outdoor shopping complex he wanted to check out. I roll my eyes as he picks out and pays for an expensive pair of sunglasses.

  “How do you get your money?” I ask him as we walk toward a yogurt shop. “Does your dad pay your bills or something?”

  He opens the door for me to walk through. “I refuse to take a cent from that man. My grandmother signed her savings over to me when I turned eighteen. That’s how I was able to move her to a home close to Berkeley. I used every cent to pay for her care, and what’s leftover is what I’m living off now. Once I graduate, I’ll put a down payment on a home of my own.”

  I feel my entire body sigh. “That’s really sweet.”

  It’s my turn to order, so I do. I have so many more questions, but I put them on the back burner.

  We take our frozen yogurt and sit on a bench outside. Side by side, we watch the people strolling by.

  He nudges my leg and gestures to the man walking his poodle. “What’s his story?”

  “What?” I ask, confused since I’ve never seen the man before in my life.

  “If you had to guess, what do you think his story is?”

  I smile, seeing he wants to play a game of sorts. I glance back to the man while I take a bite of my yogurt, thinking before I turn back to Wes. “His name is Reggie, and he’s a chef in the five-star hotel down the street. He walks his dog every day as a way to decompress after having to deal with horrible custom
ers.”

  Wes slowly nods, giving his approval of my creativity on the fly.

  There’s a woman nearby, who’s shopping at a newsstand a few feet away from the man walking the dog, so I slyly point in her direction. “Her name is Katrina. She’s a maid in the hotel where Reggie works. She’s had a crush on him for well over a year, yet she doesn’t know how to tell him. So, every day, she happens to be on the same route where he walks his dog on the off chance that he’ll notice her.”

  Wes looks at me with a soft expression.

  I lick my ice cream. “What?”

  “How do you suppose she’ll get Reggie’s attention? She’s been passing by him every day, and he hasn’t noticed her yet. What’s her next move?” His tone is calm yet challenging.

  “I don’t know. Maybe she should get a bag of doggie treats that smell really good to dogs, so when she passes by, the dog will try to follow her and get the bag.” I sit up straighter, excited about my idea.

  Wes grins. “Or how about she buys one of those bananas from the fruit stand and eats it in front of Reggie in the sexiest way possible?” He tilts his head to the side, trying not to laugh.

  My cheeks redden as I look in his direction through my lashes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  “Not a chance.” He throws his arm around me and kisses my head.

  We stroll from the shopping area to the beach. Hand in hand, we walk to the pier, where he climbs down to the sand before guiding us back underneath it.

  Out of the sight of anyone who walks by, he takes me to a tucked-away corner that’s so peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of people walking on the pier just above us.

  We take our shoes off and walk in the shadows. It’s cooler down here, away from the sun. The breeze is strong, and the air is fresh. It’s low tide, so there’s plenty of beach to walk on before we hit the water.

  When we get to the water, we let it hit our toes, and then we watch as our feet sink when the wave rushes back into the ocean.

  Tiny air bubbles appear in the sand near our feet, which I point at. “What are these holes I see everywhere?”

  He bends down, scoops up a handful of sand, and holds it up for me to see. “There are small crabs in here. Look.” He moves the sand around with his thumb, seeing if he caught a creature.

  When he doesn’t find one, he reaches up with his other hand and pulls down my shirt like he’s going to dump the load of sand down my cleavage.

  I yelp and run off, only for him to chase me down. When he catches me, it’s by wrapping both of his large arms around my petite frame. I scream, and he holds up his hands to show me he’s sand-free.

  “I wouldn’t do something like that,” he says playfully.

  “Bullshit you wouldn’t. You’ve done much worse to me in the past.”

  “Oh yeah?” He turns me, so we’re face-to-face, but he keeps his arms around my lower back.

  I wrap mine around his neck. “Yeah.”

  His bright smile melts my heart. Out of all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen the expression he’s wearing right now. Knowing I had something to do with it being there is the best feeling.

  “Will you ever forgive me for everything I did to you when we were younger?”

  I pinch my lips to the side, like I’m considering his question. “I think another ten thousand orgasms, and we’ll be even.” I scrunch my nose, and he lets out a deep belly laugh.

  “That’s all it will take? Shit. Sign. Me. Up.”

  His lips meet with mine, and I’m instantly lost in the man whose lips swept me off my feet when I was twelve and still have the same effect today.

  When he pulls back, it’s with a cheesy grin. As we walk back to the car, we stop to watch a street performer creating a chalk piece in the middle of the boardwalk. Wes reaches in his back pocket and gives him a twenty-dollar bill, and even I have to agree with the donation because his art is amazing.

  We head back toward my house, driving past the high school we went to. I’m surprised when he pulls into the parking lot toward the baseball field. We get out, and Wes just stands there, hands on his hips, looking up at the scoreboard like he’s revisiting an old friend. After a long pause, he walks to his trunk and opens it. When he closes it, he’s holding a baseball and a glove.

  “Are you planning on playing catch?” I ask with a sarcastic tone.

  He walks around the side of the car. “Yes. With you.”

  I raise a brow as he tosses me the glove. “And what will you be using?”

  “My hands. A real man can catch a ball with his bare hands.”

  With a laugh, I follow him through the gate and onto the open field of the high school baseball field. I stand on first base while he goes to second.

  “I can’t throw that far,” I call out.

  “Just throw it.”

  I do, and it lands halfway between us.

  He looks up at me from under his hooded eyes as he walks forward, picks up the ball, and lobs it back. “You throw like a girl.”

  I catch it and toss it back. “No, I throw like a person who has never played baseball in her life and doesn’t know the first thing about throwing.”

  “No one taught you how to play?” He sends the ball back, and we embark on an easy game of catch.

  “I don’t know if you realized, but my dad is not the most athletic man. He supported us in anything we wanted to do, but playing catch wasn’t a pastime. Putting on plays in the living room was more up his alley.”

  “Explains why you put on such a show in my living room.”

  “Our living room,” I correct him and move on from the conversation he’s trying to lead me into. “Mom was the carpool queen. When Chad fell in love with baseball and me with swimming, she devoted her time to schlepping us to practice, games, and meets.”

  He catches my throw and stops, holding the ball up in the air. “Okay, now, do this.” He takes the ball and places it by his hip. “Make a circle with the ball in your hand. Thumb to sky, bring it straight over your shoulder, and throw.”

  I catch it and do as he said. The ball flows a little easier. “Like that?”

  “Better. Point your other shoulder in the direction you’re throwing in.”

  I follow his instructions. If I’m doing a horrible job, he doesn’t correct me in a mean way. He has a methodical patience about him.

  “What about you? Who taught you how to play?”

  “Chad,” he states easily. “I joined the team because he did. It was fun enough. Plus, the practices were frequent, and there was always a game, so I had a place to be other than home.”

  “I wish I had known how bad it was. I might have looked at you differently.”

  The ball I throw lands in his hands, and he holds it for a second. “How did you see me in high school? I mean, do you think that if I hadn’t walked away from you the way I did on my graduation night, we would have been together?”

  I’m surprised by his question. “I don’t know. You were a drunk jerk that night.”

  “I was scared.” He throws the ball back and I catch it.

  “Why do you say things like that?”

  “Because I was.” He’s so cryptic. “You want to know a secret?”

  I raise a brow, willing him to tell me.

  “I jerked off to the thought of you. A few times.”

  I take the ball in my hands and throw it at him, and it lands square in his stomach. He responds by charging me, tackling my midsection, and tossing me over his shoulder. He carries me to the dugout.

  Wes sets me down on my feet and takes off his jacket to lay it down for me to sit on while he sits beside me.

  I curl my arms under his and lean against his shoulder as we stare at the sky that’s changing from pink to red with the sunset. “This is peaceful,” I say.

  His head falls to mine. “How did I do?”

  “With what?”

  “Our first real date. Without having to hide from anyone
or be afraid of anyone seeing us,” he speaks into my hair, and I hug him tighter. “I know we’ve been messing around for a while, and I should have taken you out before. I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. Our situation is unique. I’ve been having fun in our bubble.” I look up at him. “So, you said you were taking me to your secret places. The beach was one?”

  “Yes. I’d go there to think.”

  “About what?”

  “Life. Wanting something better. Not becoming my father.”

  “I’d say you’ve gotten all you wanted then.”

  He leans down to gently kiss me on the lips. It’s a sinful kind of kiss that has the promise of more. “I’m definitely on the right track now.”

  I moan a little. “And what about the field? It’s not a secret you came here. Was this a thinking place?”

  No, he mouths ever so devilishly. “This is where I fooled around with all the girls.”

  He tries to kiss me, but I playfully push him away.

  “All the girls? I don’t want to hook up with you in a place where you got off with countless other girls!”

  “What if I told you that on more than one occasion … okay, almost every single occasion, I pretended the girl I was with”—he pauses as he takes a breath and looks into my eyes, deep and serious—“was you.”

  My heart stops for a beat as I take in the depth of his tone. “That’s just a line.”

  He shakes his head ever so slowly. “I don’t lie, Stacey. Especially not about shit like that. I wanted you for a long time. I know I haven’t been the easiest man to deal with, but I’m not making it up when I say you’ve been on my mind since we played Spin the Bottle and you kissed me.”

  “I have a confession to make,” I breathe. “I cheated. I made it stop on you.”

  A huge smile graces his face. “I have a confession of my own.”

  “What’s that?”

  He comes forward, pushing me to my back on the wide bench in the dugout, sprawling me out as he lays his body over mine. “I watched you do it, and I didn’t stop you.”

  His mouth crashes onto mine. It’s a fiery, passionate kiss that’s been pent-up for two days and grown to a fireball, ready to explode.