Desperately Seeking Roommate

by Smeltzer, Micalea

Kit leans forward, getting into my personal space. “I would think a girl like you would remember a night with a guy like me.” He motions to himself like he’s some prize stud.

  I smile, nodding my head. “You’re so right. Except a girl like me doesn’t care about status. I just wanted to be fucked, and good, but your three-inch penis was like fucking a limp dishrag. Dirty, flaccid, and useless way too soon.”

  Anger flashes across his face and before he can retort I stand up, tossing my water in his face, and storm out of the lunchroom.

  I reach the doors and push them open roughly, blasting outside into the warm early fall air. The doors slam closed behind me, but I hear the telltale clank of them being opened again.

  “Blondie!” Abel calls after me, but I keep plowing on, running as fast as I can because I don’t want to deal with him right now.

  I’m sure he’ll have questions and frankly, I don’t think it’s anyone’s fucking business who I’ve slept with. Kit was one of those bad decisions I made and one of the many reasons I won’t sleep around anymore. I deserve better than any guy like him.

  “Lou! Come on, wait up! Lou!”

  I hear Abel’s thundering steps behind me, but I don’t stop. He’s in a lot better shape than I am, with much longer legs. He’ll catch up.

  Reaching the pavilion I crash into the fence surrounding the water feature and grab onto it. A second later the warm, all-encompassing presence of Abel fills the space behind me.

  “What was that about?” he presses, and I hear something fall to the ground by my feet. Looking down I spot my backpack. In my haste to leave the cafeteria, I hadn’t even thought about it.

  I flip around, facing him.

  We’re chest to chest. Every breath I take has my breasts brushing against his chest. I want to push him a step back, but I know it would be both useless and only prove how I’m affected by his nearness.

  “I could say the same to you, marching over to where I sat and acting like a jealous ex-lover.”

  “Well, I’m so sorry if my presence dampened your time with your boyfriend.”

  I flick his chest—pathetic, I know, but in the moment it’s the only thing I can think to do. “Tanner is gay, you idiot.”

  “Gay?”

  “It’s a pretty self-explanatory word. He likes dick, not pussy.”

  Shaking his head he blurts, “What was all that with Kit?”

  I let out an undignified and very unlady-like snort. “Guys like him think they’re on top, that because they’re popular, they’re a celebrity or something. It means they can treat people like dirt. We had sex, he was lousy, and after it was over he made some dickish comments about my weight. And you know what?” The words tumble out of me and he just stands there listening as they fire out, hitting him like bullets. “I’m sick and tired of people thinking their opinion on my weight, or how I dress, or what I say is somehow important. What is important is how I see myself.” I slam a finger into my chest. “And I love me. I’m beautiful, I’m hot, I’m sexy. I didn’t defend myself to him last year, but I sure as hell will now. I’m fucking awesome and my worth isn’t determined by him or anyone else. People like him are a dime a dozen, but me? I’m rare. I’m—”

  My words are cut off as his large hands frame my face. Heat flares in his eyes and before I can blink, his mouth crashes into mine. I can barely suck in a breath before his tongue slides against mine, my body melting into him as my fingers curl in the fabric of his cotton shirt.

  My body leans back as he kisses me deeper.

  I’m pretty sure if this were a movie this is moment the cheesy music would start playing and doves would fly out of somebody’s ass.

  But this is real life, and a college campus, so all I hear is clapping and catcalls.

  Abel ignores our audience and kisses me like he’s starved for my lips. I shouldn’t kiss him back but I do. Ever since the moment we met there’s been an attraction pulsing between us. It’s unexplainable. Undeniable. But it’s real.

  His lips part from mine and move to my ear. My head swims with surprise at the kiss and the lack of oxygen.

  “Perfect,” he whispers, “you’re perfect.”

  He stares into my eyes as he takes several steps backward, finally turning and heading toward his class while I stand underneath the pavilion in shock.

  A full minute, maybe two, passes before I realize he finished my sentence.

  I’m rare. I’m perfect. I’m flawless.

  15

  Abel

  It’s late and Lou isn’t home yet. Maybe it’s pathetic for me to be worried, but I am. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon when we kissed, and I can’t shake the feeling she’s avoiding me.

  Sure, there have been times she’s stayed out late working on an assignment for the school paper, but never this late on a school night. It’s nearing eleven and I’m wondering if I should call someone or go in search of her myself. I’ve called her phone an unhealthy amount of times and it goes straight to voicemail, which means she’s either redirecting my calls there or her phone’s dead.

  I keep pacing the floors like a maniac. I want to believe this is only avoidance but with each passing second, my gut shouts at me that it’s more.

  Finally, unable to stand it, I grab my truck keys and rush out the door.

  If I had any of her friends’ numbers I’d call them first to see if she’s with them, or if they have any idea where she might be, but I don’t. It leaves me in a guessing game of where she is.

  I decide to check Griffin’s and the nearest Starbucks to campus first. Lou is a coffee fiend, drinking the stuff like it’s the elixir of life. I’m pretty sure if she could hook up to an IV tap, she would.

  Both places turn out to be a dud, her purple Dodge Neon nowhere in sight.

  “Campus,” I mutter to myself, feeling like it’s the next logical place to look.

  If she’s not there then … I have to hope she’s with a friend and hunt them down systematically tomorrow at school to make sure she’s okay. If that proves to be a bust, then I guess I’ll be filing a police report.

  “Fuck.” I slap my hand against my steering wheel.

  I don’t worry, not like this, very often. The last time I was this worried was after my mom died and I saw my dad slipping away day by day.

  Pulling onto campus, I drive around, searching for her car. Most of the spaces are empty in this section at this hour, and only full around the dorms, but I search there anyway.

  Reaching the other side of one of the many buildings, my headlights shine across a small car and I slam on my brakes. Pulling forward slowly I breathe out a sigh of relief as I confirm it’s Lou’s.

  I park beside it and kill the engine, running to the door. Yanking it open, I burst inside and a cleaning crew member looks up from the tile floor he’s mopping, giving me a speculative look.

  “Have you seen a girl around here? Blonde hair? About this tall?” I hold out my hand to demonstrate.

  “Second floor, third door on your left.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  I race for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  Bursting through the door he directed me to, I find Lou fast asleep with her arms on the table and her head lying within their cradle. The headphones she had on are now skewed to the side, and the computer monitor in front of her flashes some kind of early 2000s looking screensaver.

  I bend down beside her and shake her shoulder slightly. She stirs, making a little humming sound in her sleep. “Lou,” I whisper, not wanting to scare her, “wake up.”

  She exhales a breath, her eyes moving behind closed lids.

  “Lou.” I brush stray hairs off her forehead. Finally, her eyes open.

  “Am I dreaming?” She stifles a yawn, sounding groggy.

  “No, not dreaming, Blondie.” I skim fingers along the curve of her cheek and she shivers.

  “Why are you touching me?” The question is soft, not accusatory.

  “Because I want to.” />
  Her lips tip up into a smile. “You kissed me.”

  I grin back. “I did.”

  “It was a hella-good kiss.”

  My smile grows bigger. “You’re welcome.”

  “Asshole.” She pushes my shoulder and sits up fully, stretching her arms above her head. The fabric of her shirt stretches across her full breasts and I stare, because why the hell wouldn’t I? She has great tits. Pressing a hand over her mouth as she yawns she blinks at me. “What time is it?”

  I look down at my phone. “Eleven-forty-five.”

  “Jeez.” She rubs a hand over her face “I was finishing my article and I guess … well, I got sleepy.”

  She wiggles the mouse as I stand up and the screen comes to life.

  “At least it’s not midnight,” she mutters to herself as she reads over what she’s written, and then clicks submit. “Arnold would kill me if I sent it after twelve.”

  “Who’s Arnold?”

  What kind of name is that anyway?

  “The editor.” She clicks some more buttons on the screen, logging out and shutting down the computer.

  She pushes the chair back and stands up, grabbing her backpack from the floor. I take it from her before she can sling it across her shoulders.

  “Why are you here anyway?” She follows me out of the room and closes the door softly behind us.

  I pause in the hallway, raising a brow. “I was worried about you.”

  She gives a small laugh and then her eyes widen when she looks at me. “Oh, you’re being serious.”

  “Of course I’m being serious.”

  We walk side by side down the wide stairwell.

  “This happens a lot. There’s no need to worry about me.”

  “That’s like saying rain isn’t wet,” I scoff in disbelief.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I worry.”

  “Oh,” she cajoles, nodding rapidly, “you’re one of those people. Seriously, it isn’t a big deal for me to be working on an article and fall asleep. One time I didn’t wake up until morning. Now that sucked. I had to go around all day in the same clothes without brushing my teeth. No one should be subjected to my dirty breath all day. It’s a miracle anyone was left standing on campus.”

  I open the exit door and she passes through first.

  “You’re riding with me,” I command, and she halts her steps stopping right in front of me.

  Whipping around, she plants her hands on her hips and tips her chin defiantly. “I can drive back to the apartment just fine, Mr. Popular. You’re not the boss of me.”

  “Are you five?” Sparring with Lou is becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

  “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

  “I’m the impossible one?” I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my threatening laugh.

  “Yes. Yes, you are.” She shoves a finger against my chest.

  Lowering my head I hear her breath catch on an intake. I brush my lips against her neck before skimming them up to her ear. “You didn’t think I was so impossible when I was kissing you. In fact, if I remember correctly there was this small pleading moan you made. That was your body begging me for more. You might say one thing with your mouth, but your body sings an entirely different tune.”

  Before I pull away from her completely, I skim my lips over hers. It’s not a kiss, barely even a meeting of flesh, but she mewls and I smile in victory.

  “Get in the truck, Blondie.”

  “No.” She glares back at me, her eyes shining from the lights in the parking lot.

  “Don’t make me break your Jonas Brothers record in half.”

  She gasps—not a pretend one either. Oh no, this is a full on shocked, I can’t believe he said such a thing, gasp.

  “Do not threaten my Jo Bros.” Stomping her foot she shoves a single finger in the air. “I declare on this moment, that Karma is going to bite you in the ass for threatening such an outrageous crime.”

  “Then get in the truck.”

  “How am I supposed to get back to campus tomorrow?”

  I grin back at her, eating this up. “With me.”

  “Of course,” she sighs. “But you’re taking me to get crepes and fancy cookies again before class.”

  “You mean macarons?”

  “Like I said, fancy cookies.”

  “Whatever you want, Blondie.”

  When she smiles up at me I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m a goner.

  Maybe I already am.

  16

  Lou

  “If heaven has a taste, I’m certain it tastes like this.” I suppress a moan as I sit in the passenger seat of Abel’s truck, parked along the curb of Oh, Crepe as we devour our breakfast.

  This makes giving in and riding home with Abel last night completely worth it.

  Neither one of us has said a word about the kiss, though I did leave an interesting note in the bathroom for him to find this morning.

  Kisses are addictive. You can’t have just one.

  P.S. I’m referring to the chocolate.

  He made no comment on the note, but he did leave the bathroom with a smirk and glint in his eye. I feel certain he’s planning something.

  “I have to agree with you there.” He chases a blueberry around the container as it rolls away from him.

  “Hey.” I pout, pretending to be offended. “You’re supposed to say, ‘I’ve tasted heaven and it tastes like you, Lou.’” I swore to myself I wouldn’t say anything about the kiss, but here we are. I haven’t lasted even twenty-four hours. The only way I’ll ever win anything is if they start handing out trophies to the first loser.

  “I don’t know,” he hedges, spearing a bite of crepe, “crepes are pretty fucking hard to top. Then there are fancy cookies,” he throws my words back at me, “so maybe you’re third.”

  I’m tempted to grab him and show him how good I am at third place.

  I don’t, of course, I’m not a complete fiend.

  I save that shit for Tuesdays. It’s the least talked about day of the week and deserves some love.

  Instead, I say to him, “Yeah, I bet you like fancy cookies even better than the idea of your cock in my mouth.”

  Game. Set. Match.

  He chokes on his food, his face turning red as he sputters and coughs. He grabs a bottle of water and chugs it down, trying to clear whatever is lodged in his throat.

  “You are the Devil.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and re-caps his water.

  “Nah,” I shake my head like I’m giving this serious thought, “the Devil eats lemon Starbursts, therefore that makes you him, or at least his kin.”

  “You are without a doubt the oddest person I have ever met.”

  “I’m taking that as a compliment.” I smile around a bite of my breakfast.

  Shaking his head, he laughs lightly under his breath. “It is. It definitely is.”

  A moment of silence passes between us.

  “There’s a game tomorrow night.”

  “And?” I raise a brow, my lips twitching with a smile. “Are you going to remind me of this every time you have a game? I have more important things to do, like work on cross-stitching my mom’s birthday present or go play Bingo. Blythe won last time, and I won’t stand for that blasphemy.”

  “Bingo?” Shock registers on his face.

  “It’s a very competitive sport.” I cross my arms over my chest defensively.

  “It’s a game, not a sport.”

  “Need I remind you that you just referred to football as a game?”

  He tosses his head back against the headrest. “I can’t win with you.”

  I look at my nails, pretending to scrutinize them. I truly do need to get them painted. The soft blue polish has grown out, leaving my naked nail showing. No nails shall be naked on my hands.

  “I don’t know why you even try.”

  He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I want you to come.”

 
I feel something catch in my throat.

  Oh my God, I think it’s feelings. Why isn’t there a Plan B for this shit? Pop a pill and boom feelings gone.

  “Just because you kissed me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to be your cheerleader. I don’t shake pom poms but I might shake my ass for the right price.”

  “What price is that?” He rests one arm on top of the steering wheel and leans toward me smirking, his brown eyes dancing with amusement.

  “Don’t worry, you couldn’t afford it.”

  His smirk turns into a full-blown grin and I feel my stomach dip.

  Damn him for being so attractive. It’s entirely unfair.

  “But I also have an advantage.” He leans closer to me, brushing his nose along my cheek and I feel my treacherous breath catch in my throat.

  “W-What’s that?” The words stutter from me and I mentally curse myself for not keeping my cool.

  I feel his breath against my skin and there’s a slight hum emanating from him. My whole body seems to be tuned into whatever frequency he’s on and my nipples pebble, pushing against my bra, and I’m sure if he looks down he’ll see them straining against the confines of my shirt.

  Stupid, no good, nipples! Always giving us ladies away! Lady boners are an unfortunate, very real, thing!

  He pulls away from me suddenly and his smile is dangerous. So are his chocolate brown eyes.

  Right here, right now, I’ve decided brown eyes are the bane of my existence. Those warm brown eyes are something I could get lost in, like my favorite fluffy blanket. They see too much, know too much, and I like the way they make me feel when he looks at me. They’re kind, comforting, and soulful. Kind of like a dog. Maybe I should get a dog and then I’ll grow an immunity against brown eyes—

  “A good player never reveals his advantage this early in the game.”

  For a moment I forget what he’s responding to, but as it clicks into place my mouth falls open.

  Fucking hell.

  I didn’t know we were playing a game, but apparently Abel just won round one.

  He won’t be so lucky from now on.

  He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m highly competitive and I always win.