Desperately Seeking Roommate

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “Louise.” Fucking Jamie. Except, can I call him that now since he’s actually fucking my best friend? I try not to shudder at my thoughts. “Miranda,” he purrs her name, the sound of it curling around his tongue like a fine wine.

  If wine could curdle, I’d will it to happen right now. Maybe have it solidify and choke him to death.

  Too morbid?

  “James.” Miranda rests her elbow on the table, chin in her hand. All the while eye-fucking him.

  “James?” I bite out the name, my tongue smacking my lips like I taste something sour.

  Jamie—oh, I mean James—raises his cup in goodbye. “I’ll be seeing you soon to collect rent.” He gives me a dirty look like he expects me not to have his money. Right now I’d love to have one of the shitty diapers I change to make money so I could throw it at his head for being an asshole.

  Once he walks away Tanner laughs and gives Miranda a high-five. “If he was gay, I would so do him. Good for you.”

  My head drops to the table. “Wake me from this nightmare.”

  Miranda taps the table in front of me and I sit up. “This is all reality, baby girl. Deal with it.”

  “But … first Charlie and now Jamie? We hate Jamie.”

  “Yeah, Jamie’s the fucking worst,” Abel pipes in, and I give him a grateful nod for having my back.

  “I can hate Jamie and still fuck him. It’s called just that, Lou—a hate fuck, and it’s amazing. Best. Sex. Ever.” She mouths the last three words.

  “I’m surrounded by crazy people.”

  Abel laughs at my complaining. “You’re the craziest of them all.”

  He has a valid point.

  Miranda checks her phone and stands up. “I better get going.” She grabs her jacket from the back of the chair and shrugs it on, shaking her hair out from under it.

  My eyes narrow to slits. “You’re meeting up with Jamie, right?”

  She picks up her drink and sticks her tongue out as she winks. “Maybe.”

  She totally is.

  She sways her hips as she heads out the door.

  “Well,” Tanner leans back in his chair, “I think that’s my cue to leave. Third-wheeling isn’t my thing.”

  “Aw, Tanner, don’t go.”

  “You’ll be fine without me.” He stands and begins gathering his stuff up. “See you guys later.”

  “Bye,” I say weakly, watching him go.

  Abel drapes his arm over the back of my chair. “Want to head out?”

  I sigh, taking a sip of whatever this delicious secret drink of his is. “Yeah, I guess. Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Sure. Where do you want to go?” His brows dip as he waits for my answer and I itch to reach out and touch the stubble that’s growing thicker along his angular jaw.

  “Surprise me.”

  * * *

  “First the sunrise, now the sunset.” I kick my legs back and forth, the two of us sitting side by side in the bed of his truck in Jim Barnett Park.

  “Hey, you told me to surprise you.” He grins, leaning back on his elbows.

  “I like it here. I hadn’t set foot in this place before you.”

  “If only we had some crepes.”

  “And fancy cookies.” I snap my fingers. “Love me some fancy cookies.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay here after college, or move back to where your mom is?”

  I’m taken aback by his question, but I realize that we are together now and inevitably these kinds of questions will come up.

  “I like it here.” Exhaling a sigh, I watch the blazing sky for a moment. “I think I’d stay, but move closer to D.C. if I could afford it. I want to work for a bigger publication and there are more journalistic opportunities there. What about you?”

  I know his sister is here, but I assume his father is still in New Jersey. He told me he’s going to be a physical therapist, and that’s a job he could do anywhere.

  “I love it here. I came here to be closer to my sister and her family, but I didn’t plan to stay long term. But … it’s home now.”

  “It is.” Wetting my lips, I clear my throat. Serious talks are not my jam, but I feel like in this case, it’s necessary. “Abel?”

  “Yeah?” He sits up at my serious tone, his hand brushing my pinky finger in the process.

  “Things are moving fast between us.”

  “They are.” His tone implies he’s waiting for the punch line.

  “I’m scared.” I hate admitting such a weakness, especially to a guy I like—love—but I’ve been burned time and again in the past. I don’t trust my feelings when it comes to guys anymore. Maybe I’m thinking things are better than they actually are? “I wasn’t planning on you.”

  “Can you plan on anybody? Sometimes things just happen and even if the timing or situation seems rushed or wrong, it might be exactly right. In time you’ll see the why.”

  “Fate,” I whisper my beloved word.

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you a believer now, Mr. Popular?”

  He chuckles and his warm hand grasps the back of my neck, pulling me in close to kiss my forehead. “I believe in you, and that’s the only kind of fate I need.”

  25

  Abel

  “And done!” Lou announces, snapping her laptop lid closed and placing it on the coffee table. “No homework for the next oh…” She pretends to look at a watch even though she doesn’t wear one. “Twelve hours or so.”

  “You have a whole other year of this. I only have a few months.”

  “Don’t rub it in.” She stretches her legs into my lap, lying back. “You know what would make tonight really great?”

  “If we were naked?”

  “No.” She crinkles her nose. “If there was pizza. Pizza makes everything better.”

  “Basically, you’re telling me to order pizza?” I raise a brow in challenge.

  “Yep. We can watch some more Psych while we’re at it.”

  “Naked?” I try to keep the excitement out of my tone.

  She groans and her feet drop from my lap to the floor as she sits up. “No, not naked. I’m on my period.”

  “You’re not in the mood then?”

  Her lips thin. “Actually, I always get really horny on my period for some reason, but that’s just nasty so let’s go with I’m not in the mood.”

  I chuckle, sliding my hand up her thigh. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  She gags and shoves my hand away. “Nice try, but I’m not cool with my sheets—or yours,” she adds when she sees I’m going to protest, “looking like a murder scene. That’s just nasty. Besides, what if I forget to take my tampon out and your giant schlong rams it inside my uterus. Toxic Shock Syndrome is a real thing.”

  “Okay, okay.” I raise my hands in defeat. “Sex is off the table. Honestly, I’m cool with pizza and Psych.”

  That’s one of the best things about Lou—yeah, I love having sex with her, but I also like being with her.

  “All right.” She hops up and claps her hands together. “You order the pizza while I take a shower. I smell like Zac Efron’s sweaty ball sack.”

  “Um…” I don’t know how to respond.

  “He might have the face of a god, but you know that boy’s peen has seen way too much pussycat action to ever be clean.”

  Before I can retort, she flips around dramatically and saunters into the bathroom.

  Lou is a hard person to keep up with, but damn if I don’t like trying.

  I place a call to Woody’s for a delivery and then grab the cash from my wallet, setting it near the door so it’s ready when the pizza arrives. I tuck it under the landline phone and nearly shit a brick when the phone rings shrilly.

  “Jesus, fuck.” I flounder, my arms reeling back like I’m trying to dodge a bullet Matrix style.

  The landline rarely rings, and only seems to be telemarketers or Lou’s mother. Since this is usually the time her mom calls I’m voting on the latter.

  I reach for the o
bnoxious pink phone and answer. “Hello?”

  “You’re not Lou.”

  “No, ma’am, I’m not.” I try not to laugh. Lou’s mom sounds so much like her it’s scary.

  “Either you’re breaking and entering or you’re the roommate.”

  This time I do laugh. “Definitely not a burglar, ma’am.”

  “Well, nice to meet you then, roommate.”

  “It’s Abel. Lou’s in the shower. I can tell her to call you back or—”

  “Are you having sex with my daughter?”

  Her question catches me off guard and I sputter then begin to choke. I swipe my blue Gatorade from the counter and take a sip, trying to clear my throat.

  “What? No. Of course not. Definitely not.”

  “Mhmm,” she hums. “My Lou might act like a toughy, but she has a soft heart. Be gentle with her.”

  “Um…”

  This is awkward as hell.

  “And if you’re not having sex with my daughter, she’s a great girl. Wonderful, really. Doesn’t get out enough and really needs to stop going to Bingo and hang out with more people her age, but she’s a great catch, I swear.”

  “Uh…”

  “I really want grandbabies some day.”

  Fuck, this escalated extraordinarily fast.

  “I’m sure grandchildren are definitely in your future.”

  And I’d love to be the father of your daughter’s kids way, way, way down the road.

  “I want six.”

  I choke again and gulp down some more Gatorade. At the rate I’m going, this conversation is going to empty the entire bottle. Too bad it’s not alcoholic.

  “Wow, six is … a lot. My sister has three kids.”

  “I always wanted more, but I’m thankful I was blessed with Louise. She was such a funny child.”

  “I bet she was.”

  She must’ve been a little spitfire.

  “Oh, she was hilarious. She kidnapped the neighbor’s cat once.”

  “The neighbor’s cat?”

  “Yeah, ruined her brand new Easter dress while doing it. Crawled under a hole in the fence, snatched the cat, and hid the thing in her bedroom for two hours until I found it.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I can see her doing that.”

  “Want to hear some more stories?”

  I grin. “Absolutely.”

  Two stories later, Lou exits the bathroom with damp blonde hair and steam billowing around her. She pauses, looking at the pink phone clasped in my hand. Slowly, her mouth widens in horror.

  “What is she telling you?” She runs at me, the towel she’s wearing barely able to hang on with all the movement.

  I hold the phone out of her reach. “She’s just getting to the good part about the time you mooned the mailman when you were six. Oomph.” She slams into me, tackling me to the ground.

  Fuck, she might be useful on the team.

  The phone drops from my hand and dangles off the counter from the cord. I can hear her mom asking if anyone’s still there.

  “If you don’t want me to cut your body into teeny-tiny pieces and trick Jamie into eating it you’ll never listen to my mom’s stories ever again.”

  “But I like her stories. You were a funny kid.”

  “Funny kid,” she scoffs. “I’m goddamn hilarious. Always have been, always will be.” I hear the phone disconnect and start to bleep but she ignores it. “What else did she tell you?” Her eyes narrow and her small hands are dangerously close to my throat.

  I wet my lips—kind of afraid of her, but a whole lot turned on. “You kidnapped a cat, and one time you decided to take a bath in macaroni when you were three.”

  “I really liked macaroni and cheese—specifically the Kraft Spongebob shapes.”

  “Who didn’t?”

  Shaking her head back and forth she exhales a breath. “My mom lives to tell people embarrassing stories about me. Trust me, those aren’t even the tip of the iceberg.”

  “Oh, I know. She’s sending pictures too.”

  “Oh, my God I’m going to kill her!” She stands up hastily and in the process her towel melts from her body. She grabs at the towel and then shrieks in a way I know something is seriously wrong.

  “Wha—”

  “THE PIZZA GUY SAW MY PEPPERONI SLICES!” She points wildly to the window.

  “Huh?” I gather my legs under me and stand.

  “MY AREOLA AND NIPPLES, ABEL! HE SAW MY BOOBS!” Hanging her head in her hands, her body once more encased in a bath towel she all but whispers, “I can never eat pizza again. This is the greatest tragedy of my life. No pizza … that’s no life at all.”

  There’s a knock on the door and she screams again, running for her bedroom and slamming the door closed behind her.

  Hanging the phone back up, I grab the money from under it and open the door. The teenager on the other side stands there with a smirk.

  “What are you leering at?” Already I want to punch the guy in the face, and the kid probably isn’t older than sixteen.

  His eyes widen when he sees me, taking in my size. “N-Nothing.”

  “Mhmm, that’s what I thought.” I hand him the money and take the pizza. Now I regret having the money set out already, because the kid definitely wouldn’t be getting a tip after the conceited smile I opened the door to.

  Locking the door, I set the pizza on the counter, grab paper plates, a fresh Gatorade for me, and a Capri-Sun for Lou before I move everything to the coffee table so we can watch the show.

  Lou’s bedroom door opens and she exits wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, like she’s trying to make sure no part of her body is exposed after the incident.

  She shudders as she walks toward me. “I don’t embarrass easily, but the pizza guy seeing me naked tops the list. I’m really rethinking my whole love of pizza thing. It’s always treated me so well until now.” She flops onto the couch. “Screw it, I can’t say no to pizza.”

  I open the box and slap two slices on a plate, handing it to her with a Capri-Sun.

  “You’re too good to me.”

  She takes both gratefully and I fix myself a plate before sitting down beside her, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. She eyes their position but doesn’t say anything.

  Reaching for the remote, she starts the show, and scoots closer to me in the process. I’m pretty sure if we hadn’t given in to the chemistry between us my balls might’ve exploded by now. I might not have kept my vow, but maybe it was never about being celibate for a period of time and actually about finding a woman I want to be with for more than just my body’s needs.

  After a couple hours of binge-watching, Lou goes slack against me. I tilt my head, finding her fast asleep against my shoulder.

  Grabbing the remote from the blanket, I turn the TV off and gather her in my arms.

  She stirs as I carry her and mumbles, “Too heavy, put me down.”

  “Never. Not when I have you right where I want you.”

  She gives a small sleepy laugh.

  I transfer her onto my mattress and she makes a sexy little sound, burrowing against the pillows. Yanking at the sheets to pull them over her, I join her in bed.

  She wiggles her body against mine, expelling a sigh when she rests her head on my chest.

  “Why do you like me?” Her question surprises me. “I’m quirky and weird, I like to play Bingo with old people, I live off of pizza and coffee, and can’t stand football. I’m all wrong for you.”

  “No, Lou. That’s exactly why you’re right for me.”

  I press my lips against the soft skin of her forehead and the short baby hairs there. I wait a moment for her response but when I angle my head to look at her I find she’s sound asleep.

  26

  Abel

  “Do we need so many snacks?”

  Lou spreads out a bag of pretzels, Starbursts, some kind of sour cream and onion popcorn that actually looks good, and even some Tic-Tacs.

  Her head pops up, and she m
akes an indignant noise under her breath. “You can’t study without snacks, even in the library.”

  I look around at the other full tables.

  None of them have snacks, but I don’t point it out.

  Instead, I pull out a chair across the table from her, because I know studying won’t be happening at all if I sit beside her.

  “Afraid I’ll bite?” She grins evilly as she opens her laptop.

  “No, I’m afraid I will.”

  A small squeak leaves her and her eyes focus on the screen. “Now be quiet, I have to concentrate.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Already her fingers clack against the keyboard, typing at a pace I could never keep up with. “I can feel you staring.” She doesn’t look away from her screen.

  “Noted.” I pull books out of my backpack and spread them around because I do need to study, which is why I agreed to stay at school after my classes had ended. Normally, I can’t wait to get as far from here as possible once class and practice are over, but when Lou said she was staying, this sounded more appealing than being in an empty apartment by myself.

  My senior year has been kicking my ass. It’s crunch time and I want to come out on top, and hopefully, if I’m lucky, be able to get a job quickly. It’s fucking scary going into debt to get an education and not being able to get a job doing what I want right away. I’ve wanted to be a physical therapist for years. It was something I knew by the time I was a junior in high school. I don’t want to fail myself, not when I’m so close to what I’ve been working toward.

  Thirty minutes into our study session, Lou opens the bag of popcorn and Starbursts. “Want any?”

  Her eyes on her computer screen, and headphones on, she holds the popcorn bag out to me and I grab a handful. Shoving them into my mouth I chew, impressed with the taste. “Those are good.”

  There’s no point to my words since she can’t hear me.

  Tearing out a piece of paper I scribble a note on it, ball it up, and throw it at her. It smacks the side of her face and falls onto the keyboard.

  Her mouth pops open and she gives me an incredulous look, reaching for the note and unraveling it.