I shake my head rapidly. “It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more or expecting to be treated with respect.”
“Can we talk about something else?” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Like the fact that you bagged the hottest guy on campus as your roommate? How come you haven’t invited me over to introduce us? Huh? Even now, he’s gone.” She raises a playful brow. “But seriously, girl, that’s some wicked good luck having Abel for a roomie.”
“Good luck?” I snort. “Good luck would have been not needing one from the start.”
“But still,” she argues, going in for some more chicken, “you could’ve done worse.”
“True. He’s not bad as far as roommates go. Except…”
“Except what?” she prompts when I’m quiet too long.
“It’s stupid.” I feel foolish for being irritated over the girl who dropped by yesterday. He’s entitled to do what he wants, including her, but her clear disdain for me didn’t sit well. She doesn’t know me any better than I know her. “His girlfriend, or hookup chick, whatever, came by yesterday and she was just…” I look down at my lap, wringing my fingers together. “Rude, I guess. Like I was in her way. Bitch, I lived here first, chill.”
She rolls her eyes. “Catty bitches. I bet it’s that Danika chick.”
“Who?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “I had a few classes with her last year, and she’s the type of girl who chases after all the popular jocks. She hasn’t figured out yet that dropping to her knees for all of them isn’t getting her anywhere.”
“Like I said, it was silly,” I reply dismissively. “He’s only been here a week, and for the most part he’s not bad.”
“Have you gotten to know him?” She digs into another container of food, but I suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore.
“He’s only been here a week,” I repeat. “We both have school, work, and lives. So, I mean, it’s not like it’s been cold, but we haven’t really gotten to know each other. He did get us pizza the night he moved in.”
“Oh?” She raises a brow in interest. “How’d that go?”
I take a sip of water. “It was nice, I guess.”
Leaning against the cushions she pretends to fan herself. “Nice to look at him, right? He’s gorgeous, so you definitely scored there.”
“Can we just watch the show now?” I grumble, rewinding to the start of the episode.
“Fine.” She raises her hands in surrender. “Whatever you want, but if you think this is the end of the conversation, you’re wrong.”
9
Abel
I got in late last night from the game and after party, but like usual wake up at the ass crack of dawn because my body refuses to accept the concept of sleeping in on the weekends.
Throwing the covers off I head into the bathroom, stifling a yawn, and put the toilet seat up. I try to see where I’m aiming, but with sleep still clouding my vision I don’t doubt some ends up on the tiled floor.
I grab my toothbrush and smile when I see the pink Post-It note stuck to the mirror.
I’ve been here one week and every day there’s a new Post-It stuck to the mirror with some quote, words of wisdom, or random thought Lou has had. She must switch them out at night before she goes to bed, because not once have I woken up to a duplicate.
Today’s reads: Haters gonna hate, potatoes gonna potate, I just want to eat mashed potaters.
I shake my head, stifling a laugh as I run the bristles of my toothbrush under the faucet and then squeeze a stripe of blue toothpaste onto it. I clean my teeth thoroughly and rinse the white suds from my mouth.
Turning on the shower I wait for it to heat up. I showered last night after the game, but my morning showers are a routine I can’t seem to stray from. It’s what wakes me up and encourages me to get on with my day.
Stepping beneath the warm spray I wash my body with some smelly shit called Woods my sister got me for Christmas. I don’t know that it actually smells like woods, but it’s not bad.
Around me in the shower are all kinds of signs of Lou. A yellow razor, which always gives me a chuckle since it’s not pink, a loofah which is in fact in her favorite color, and an assortment of different body wash scents invading nearly every crevice. At least she only has one bottle of shampoo and conditioner each.
I asked her about all the different body washes after the first time I took a shower here and she said she likes to match her scent to her mood. I think most girls would just pick what smells good to them, but not Lou.
When I finish with my shower I dress in a pair of jeans and t-shirt.
The apartment is dead quiet, and if last weekend is any indication Lou will sleep late, but the idea of sitting around doing nothing for hours doesn’t appeal to me and I’m not in the mood to contact any of my friends. After last night I’m sure they’re all sleeping away like Lou.
Pacing the small apartment and finding nothing of interest, I hesitantly push the door to Lou’s room open.
I feel weird doing this, she could have a guy in here for all I know since she was in bed before I came home, but I don’t stop.
She lies in bed curled on her stomach, her face toward the door with her eyes hidden behind a black sleep mask with pink words spelling out Hot Mess. Her blonde hair fans out around her wildly and she’s kicked her covers away, revealing a pair of gray Calvin Klein underwear hugging her every curve. Her loose t-shirt has ridden up, exposing the side of her tanned stomach and her breasts threaten to fall out of the deep V-cut.
Oxygen has been cut off from my lungs and I can’t tear my eyes away from her body.
I’m being a total creeper, I know, but I didn’t intend to stand here staring at her like an idiot while she sleeps.
Clearing my throat, I knock on the now open door.
Lou stirs in her sleep but doesn’t wake up.
I knock again. “Lou?”
Her ass wiggles.
Sighing, I walk forward a few steps and bend down, shaking her shoulder lightly.
“Wha?” She jerks awake, shoving the mask off her eyes. She narrows those same eyes on me and glares. “What time is it? Why are you waking me up?” She turns her head to face her window. The blinds are closed, the curtains drawn, but it’s obvious it’s dark out. Her eyes fall to the clock beside her bed. “Why are you waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn? Normal people like to sleep, you know, Abe?”
I don’t know why she’s calling me Abe all of a sudden, but I don’t touch on that.
“It’s another glorious morning, that’s all the reason you need to get up.”
She sighs. “I’m never going to go back to sleep now, you jerk.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “What do you want anyway?”
She sits up, and the sleeve of her shirt dips down over one arm. My eyes follow it, and then because I’m a guy and can’t help it, I take in her breasts clearly visible through the thin fabric. Her nipples peek through and if I’m not careful I’m going to get a raging boner, which I don’t need. Not when it comes to my roommate.
“I thought we could get breakfast.”
“Now?” Once again her eyes flash to the nightstand as if she’s expected the time to change drastically since she last looked at it.
“Yes, now.”
She exhales a heavy breath. “You know what, yes. Since you woke me up, I think I totally deserve to go to breakfast, but you’re paying, bud.” She climbs out of bed, standing in front of me.
The top of her head barely comes to my chin and I fight every instinct I have not to touch her.
It’s safe to say I’m attracted to Lou. She’s not my normal type at all. She’s quirky and unique and I feel like I’m only at the tip of the iceberg of her weirdness, but I like that about her. I like not knowing what to expect and it’s only been one damn week. I’m in for a wild ride living with this girl and I’m actually looking forward to it.
Lou sticks her hands on her hips and raises one blonde brow. “Are you going
to let me get dressed or stand here all day?”
I grin at her. “If you’re offering a show, I’m game.”
“Out.” She points a stern finger.
With a chuckle, I swipe my tongue over my lips as I give her one last long look before I leave her to change.
I wait in the living room as she flits between her room and the bathroom. In less than thirty minutes, which is a miracle considering the length of time it takes some girls to get ready, she stands waiting to go.
She taps an impatient foot, the long laces of her white Chucks dragging against the floor as if I’m the one who has kept her waiting.
A red hat sits on her head, saying kind people are my kind of people. The rest of the clothes she’s tossed on are composed of a white crop top and the type of jeans that rest higher on her waist. She’s rolled up the bottom of them, exposing her ankles.
I know it’s nothing fancy, but she looks fucking hot.
I’m beginning to wonder how I never noticed her before, but sometimes unless things are right in front of your face you’re oblivious.
“Ready to go, I take it?” My lips twitch with amusement, much like her foot against the floor.
“I’m dressed,” she says in a duh tone, “which implies I’m ready to go.”
I stand from the couch and swipe my keys off the kitchen counter. “Let’s go then.”
I lead her outside to my truck parked against the curb. The restored 1980 Ford F-150 truck is my most-prized possession. My dad and I restored it when I was fourteen, and by the time I turned sixteen it was finished. I thought we were working on it for him, but instead he handed the keys to me.
“Your truck looks like a candy cane,” she comments, fighting a laugh.
“A candy cane?” I repeat, looking at the red and white truck.
She tilts her head back, looking up at me. “I like it. It’s different.”
“Thanks.” I reach for the passenger door and open it for her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs in surprise, sliding onto the beige leather bench seat.
It’s still dark out, the barest hint of sunrise beginning to color the sky.
Getting behind the wheel, I pull away from the curb and head toward one of my favorite breakfast spots. It’s a small hole in the wall place most people don’t know about. It’s a few miles from the apartment, so the drive isn’t long.
“Stay here.” I move the gearshift into park.
Lou looks at me incredulously. “You’re not letting me come inside to eat my breakfast? Rude, much?” I know she’s joking and I fight a smile.
“I’m grabbing the food and we’re going somewhere else to eat it.”
“Surely I should get to pick my own breakfast.”
“I was right with the coffee, wasn’t I?” She hesitates to answer so I take that as a yes. “Then trust me with this, too.”
Before she can protest, because I already know she’s the type who loves to argue, I hop out of my truck, swinging the door closed behind me.
“This better be worth it,” Lou calls out the rolled down window. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
I shake my head, but don’t look back at her as I open the door to the small café. It’s the kind of place someone might deem Instagram worthy with its chalkboard paint wall on one side and exposed brick on the others.
Oh, Crepe might not seem like the place to find someone like me hanging out but the food is delicious and the owners are super laidback. It’s a newer place I discovered that opened over the summer and it has yet to be overridden by other students from the university.
I step up to the register to place my order and Ines, one half of the husband and wife duo who own the café, comes from the back with a smile on her face. Flour, or something similar, is spread across her nose.
“The usual?” she asks in her thick French accent.
“Yes, and an extra order. Four of those, too.” I point to the pink macarons in a strawberry flavor.
“One moment.” She holds up a finger as she carefully taps her finger against the keys of the register. The total comes up and I hand over my debit card.
She swipes my card and gives it back.
I move off to the side to wait for my order where her husband, Michel, is already making the crepes.
I like watching the way they’re made, how he swirls the batter around.
Outside a horn honks, and I’m not surprised when I look out the glass to find Lou leaned over honking the horn of my truck.
Shaking my head, I hold up a hand telling her to wait while she impatiently taps her wrist where there is no watch.
Within a few minutes Michel is passing me a bag with my breakfast order and two cups of steaming hot coffee in a carrier.
I call out my thanks and head out the door where an impatient Lou leans halfway out her window.
She slaps her hands lightly against the side of my truck in a drumbeat. “Hurry up, Mr. Popular. I could be sleeping right now, but instead I’m awake against my will in desperate need of food and caffeine.
I stop in front of her, standing on the sidewalk. “Lucky for you, I have both.”
I hold the bag and carrier out to her and she takes them, inhaling the scent of the freshly made crepes.
Hopping in the truck, I drive toward our next destination. Lou starts rummaging in the bag and I cluck my tongue.
“Nope, not yet.”
She groans, flopping back against the seat. “You’re no fun. Worst roommate ever.”
I suppress a chuckle. “Aren’t I the only roommate you’ve had?”
“No, I lived on campus freshman year.” She wiggles her lips together. “Actually, that makes you the second worst roommate.”
I press one hand to my chest, the other on the wheel. “I’m honored, Lou.”
Turning the truck into the park I wind around the road until I get to my favorite spot on a hill.
“Grab the food,” I tell her, reaching between her legs for the cup carrier on the floor between her feet. My arm grazes her jean-clad leg and I swear air hisses between her teeth, but when I look at her she seems perfectly composed.
Jumping out of my truck I lay down the back and hop up onto the bed.
Lou comes around the side, the bag dangling from her finger. She eyes me, then the truck. “Do you really think my short little legs are going to get me up there?”
Taking the bag from her I set it beside me and offer her a hand. “No, but I can help you.”
She stares at my hand and I wiggle my fingers.
“You should bring a stepstool next time.” She slips her hand in mine and I help her up into the bed of the truck. She sits down, letting her legs dangle off like mine.
I grin at her, passing over one of the coffees. “Does that mean you’re going to have a sunrise breakfast with me again?”
She rolls her eyes, her small fingers wrapping around the cup. “I guess it depends on how good it is.” Her irises sparkle with a challenge I will gladly accept.
I pull out the two Styrofoam boxes and give one to her as well as a plastic wrapped set of utensils and napkin.
She opens the lid and her gaze flicks to me. “That actually looks delicious.”
“You haven’t even tasted it yet. It’s life-changing,” I say in an exaggerated tone.
She rips the plastic and pulls out the fork. I wait, watching her take the first bite.
She closes her eyes and a small moan filters between her lips. Her pink tongue slides out, wiping chocolate syrup from her lip.
“Oh, that’s amazing.” Her eyes open and she looks at me. Knocking me with her elbow, she scolds, “Stop looking at me and eat.”
I don’t have to be told twice.
I dig into my breakfast, relishing in the sinfulness. I normally cook my own meals and eat healthy, but I have to indulge now and then. I have a sweet tooth, what can I say.
Beyond us, the sky is now bathed in light, the tops of the trees look like they’re on fire
from the orange hue.
“Getting up early isn’t so bad if I get to eat dessert for breakfast.”
“And that’s not all.” I balance the Styrofoam box on my legs and reach into the brown paper bag, pulling out the small box of macarons. “Two of those are mine,” I warn her before she grabs it from me. Strawberry isn’t my favorite, but I figure I can give it a try.
She opens the lid and her mouth opens. “You’re my favorite roommate,” she blurts, and I bust out laughing.
“Elevated from the worst to best in minutes? I feel blessed.”
“What can I say?” She grins at me, taking two of the pink cake-like cookies out of the box. “I’m easily pleased. Not like that,” she quickly adds the end.
I shake my head. “You’re something else, Lou.” I look out ahead as the blue sky appears overhead, the early morning light growing brighter by the second.
“I’d rather be something than nothing.”
Her words hit something deep within me and I grab one of the macarons left in the box.
“Cheers to that.”
We knock our cookies together, both smiling before we pop them in our mouths.
She giggles, wiping crumbs away from her mouth.
Her silliness is contagious and soon I’m laughing with her.
“Thank you for letting me move in with you.”
“It’s not a big deal. I needed a roommate, you responded, here we are.”
My smile grows. “It’s not fate?”
She shrugs. “Who knows, fate is hard to understand at times.”
Her baby blues lift to mine, and I think I know exactly what she means.
Things can seem like they’re going to shit, and then work out in the funniest of ways.
Lifting her legs up, she crosses them beneath her, peering at me from beneath the brim of her cap. “Did you grow up here?”
“Are you trying to get to know me?” I can’t help but joke around with her.
She gives a small laugh. “We do live with each other now. I figure I should know more about you than you play football and are campus’s reigning sex god.”
“Sex god, huh?”
She glares at me. “Don’t let it go to your head, it’s just what I’ve heard. For all I know it could be lies.”
Desperately Seeking Roommate Page 6