by Chloe Grey
Troublesome Roommate
chloe grey
Published by Chloe Grey, 2019.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
TROUBLESOME ROOMMATE
First edition. May 30, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 chloe grey.
Written by chloe grey.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37 | Two years later
Author’s notes
Chapter 1
“He’s short,” Zane said. “One hundred percent.”
I looked up from my phone. “And I’m telling you he’s not. Didn’t you see his Facebook profile?”
“Did you?”
“The picture is kind of dark, I give you that, but—”
“His back is turned, cookie. His profile photo only shows the top half of his body, and like you said, the picture is barely visible. How are you so adamant that he is tall?”
I shrugged. “He’s definitely tall.”
“How much?”
“Huh?”
My roommate abandoned leaning against the kitchen counter and moved to sit opposite me. “How much are you willing to bet?”
I shifted in my seat. “How much?”
“You heard me.”
“A dollar?”
“Ha!” he exclaimed, slamming his hand on his lap and making me jump. I scowled at him.
“I can’t buy shit with a dollar.” He took a second to think. “Fifty dollars.”
“Fifty?!” My scowl deepened. I loved Zane to death, but sometimes he could be so irritating. He knew how much I hated gambling. That, and I was broke.
“You just got a job, didn’t you? And in one of those fancy buildings, too. You could...” His voice trailed off as he noticed my expression. He sighed and propped his legs up on the coffee table. “Fine. Dinner then.”
I mimicked his pose, planting my feet on a stack of books. “Dinner it is.”
He poked my ankle with his toe and sang in a sing-song voice, “Audrey is getting me fish and chips tonight.”
That had me laughing. “We’ll see.”
“You’re going to love him, cookie. He’s nice, friendly, funny, and most importantly—short.”
“How do you know? The last time you saw him was like, what? Twelve years ago?”
He poked my ankle again. I sat up and slapped his thigh. Zane laughed, but he pulled his legs back. “Fourteen. We were in seventh grade when he switched schools. But we keep in touch. I don’t know why you keep saying he’s tall. He was the shortest guy in our grade. Short, but everyone loved him.” He smiled, recalling the memories. “Except the teachers. They didn't appreciate his sense of humor.”
“People can change, Zane.” I stood up and stretched. “Anyway, I can’t wait to meet our new roommate. We could do so many things together. Board games, karaoke, hiking. He could even keep me entertained at night.”
“Hey,” Zane showed wounded eyes. “I keep you entertained at night, or at least I used to. You haven’t forgotten our late night talks, have you?”
I turned my back on him to get a glass of water. “You’re all right.”
He snorted. “Besides your parents, you only have me. I’m your everything.”
“Ditto.”
The couch creaked as Zane laid down. “How did we end up like this? Two losers sharing a run-down apartment. One’s a failed musician, and the other is a failed—.”
“A person who just graduated college with honors,” I said lightly, cutting him off and sipping from my cup. I hoped he wouldn’t mention my degree, so I continued, “And I just got a job too. Don’t forget that.”
Zane groaned. “One loser then. Fuck, my mom was right. I should have gone to college.”
“It’s not too late,” I reminded him. “You’re still young.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m fifty sometimes?” He groaned again. “I hope Kevin is as much of a failure as me. I would hate to be the only loser in the household.”
“He’s probably successful, wealthy, and has a gorgeous girlfriend.”
Zane chuckled. “A successful married man wanting to share rent in this dump? Yeah, sure.”
I looked at our front door. Long ago, it might have been bright blue. The paint had long faded, and the damn thing was on its last legs, held back only by a rusty chain and an even rustier lock. “Isn’t he supposed to be here by now? He said six, right?”
“It just turned six. Relax. Are you that excited to lose your bet?”
My retort was interrupted by a sharp knock on our door.
In an instant, Zane was up, hurrying toward it. He started to unlock it, but then he turned around and walked back towards me.
“How do I look?” He tidied up his hair. “Is my fringe in place?”
“You look fine,” I said. Before he could say anything else, I reached over and ruffled his hair.
“Fuck, Audrey!” he growled, slapping my hand away and furiously trying to put his hair back into place. There was another knock on our door, much louder this time. “Why did you do that?”
I giggled and walked past him. He deserved that for forcing the bet on me.
The knocking became more impatient.
What was his problem? Was he trying to break the door down or something?
As Zane complained behind me, I unlocked the door and was faced with the hottest man I had ever seen.
Hot—and tall.
Chapter 2
No, hot wasn’t the right word to describe him.
He was much more than that. Gorgeous, divine, exquisite. He was sex personified.
“Are you, uh, you our new roommate?” I could feel myself heating up as I stammered in front of this Adonis. My first thought was that he couldn't have been Kevin. Everything Zane had said didn’t match. Maybe he was a supermodel that happened to knock on the wrong door.
Fuck, he had a great jawline. And his eyes, they were the perfect shade of blue. And his body... well, he must have spent a lot of hours in the gym.
He looked me up and down and then glanced at my Mickey Mouse cup that I was still holding.
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t believe it. “You’re Kevin?”
He took longer to reply this time, looking at me with an unreadable expression before grunting out the same word.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Kevin!” Zane finally came up behind me. “Long time no—”
I didn’t need to look at Zane to know he was as stunned as I was.
“Zane,” Kevin said curtly, giving him the barest hint of a nod. He gestured at his luggage and at
the handheld bag he was carrying, both of which looked really heavy. “Move?”
“Oh, sorry,” I felt myself heating up more. I backed up and smacked into Zane. He backed up too. Kevin walked in and examined our living room. It wasn’t much, but I prided myself in keeping the place clean.
Kevin looked back at us, addressing my friend. “Where’s my room?”
“Over there.” Zane pointed to the room on the left side of our couches. “Here, let me help you with your—”
Kevin walked past him and into his room—which was previously Zane’s room. We really needed the shared rent. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, leaving us with the scent of pineapples. It sucked because I loved pineapples.
I decided that from then on, I hated pineapples.
We both stared at the door for what seemed like an eternity.
“Fuck, he’s hot,” Zane finally said, whistling softly. “How did he get so hot?”
I shrugged and plopped down on the couch, a huge squeak piercing the room. I was still holding my cup, gripping it so hard, my knuckles had turned white. I set the cup down, but Mickey’s face was looking at me. Feeling judged, I turned the cup around and relaxed into the couch.
“He’s such an asshole, though. Did you see the way he looked at me? Like I was in the way?” I shot Zane a look like it was somehow his fault. “You said he would be nice.”
“He is.” Zane was still staring at the closed door. “Maybe he had a bad day or something.” He paused. “Did you see the size of his arms? Or better yet, the size of his bulge? Fuck, he must have a huge cock.”
“What’s with you and being attracted to assholes?” I grumbled.
“Me with assholes?” My roommate turned to face me. “Do I need to remind you of He Who Must Not Be Named?”
“Don’t start.” I buried my face in my hands. I felt like crying all of a sudden. Move. The word rang in my head over and over. And the way he said it, so dismissive and rude. I have met rude people before so I have no idea why I was so emotional. Maybe it was because I had hyped myself up. Zane really made it seem as though he was going to be the perfect roommate, a great new friend for both of us.
I lowered my voice. “Maybe we should kick him out and find another roommate. One that is actually nice.”
“Come on, cookie.” I felt the couch dip as he sat beside me. “Give him a chance. Besides, I owe you dinner. I still can’t believe he’s taller than me.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, Kevin,” Zane called out. “Do you—”
I tugged on his arm. “Not him. Only the two of us.”
“Okay, okay.” Zane offered me his hand, which I took. “I know the best fish and chips in town, but you’re driving.”
AFTER DINNER, I WALKED upstairs to our apartment alone. Zane had met an ex at the restaurant, and they decided to continue their conversation at a club across the street. Thankfully, it was an ex he didn’t have many problems with, or things might have gotten ugly. Like me, at least eighty percent of his past relationships had ended up with flying chairs and nasty insults.
He knew I hated loud music, so he bid me goodbye with a promise of getting me some tasty snacks when he got home.
As I unlocked the door to our apartment, my thoughts began to drift. I was already feeling extremely nervous about my first day of work tomorrow. Along with my student debts looming over me... I was still trying to process it all. Mom told me that I had to be strong, but I just wanted to scream and cry. Zane was the only person who understood my position, mostly because he was in the same situation as me, maybe a little worse.
I almost flung my purse at the intruder sitting on our couch—my spot!—when I walked in. Then I saw his supermodel features and smelled his pineapple scent, and I remembered that we had a new roommate.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. Kevin had a book in his hand, a book that I immediately recognized as mine.
He ignored me, so I walked toward him and snatched the book away. I gathered the other books on the coffee table and shot him a scowl. “Don’t touch these.”
“Did you write them?”
It was as if his voice, all silky and smooth, was a trigger for my face to turn bright red and the butterflies in my stomach to appear.
I moved the books to the kitchen counter far away from him. “How did you know?”
“Your name is on them.” Jesus, he needs to stop talking. Right now. The butterflies were going crazy. “Either that or you are a huge fan of someone who shares the same name as you.”
I walked across the room to roll down the shades and hide my burning cheeks. I couldn’t believe the effect this guy had on me. I have seen hundreds of hot dudes before but felt nothing. So why was my body reacting this much?
I chewed on my lip, debating on what to say. Finally, I went with a simple, “I’m a writer.”
Better to tell him the truth than let him figure it out. I hated lying anyway. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I made a huge mistake and took a creative writing degree, which is completely useless, by the way. Why did I take it you say? Oh, it’s because I thought it would help me with my dream to be a best-selling author. Oh, what’s that? Have I made it yet? Hahahaha!
“A writer.” Kevin took a few moments to process that before zeroing his gorgeous blue eyes on mine. I readied myself for the inevitable questions. How much have you made? Why have I never heard of your books before? Blah blah blah.
Instead, he threw me off-guard by asking a completely different question. “Can I have the book back?”
I eyed him. “Why?”
“I was getting into the juicy part before you rudely snatched it away.” Before I could ask what juicy part, he continued, “The part where Jenny was bent over at Abraham’s desk, with her skirt ridden up high and waiting for him to take his belt off.”
I didn’t know my cheeks could get any hotter, but somehow they did. “I write romance,” I explained softly, feeling like a child caught red-handed doing something wrong.
“Obviously. Now, can I have the book back?” When I said nothing, he added, “I will return it once I’m finished.”
I took a few more moments to debate the pros and cons. If I let him read my book, he could hurt me by talking shit about how my book sucks. And judging from my limited interactions with him, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he did exactly that.
On the other hand, he might enjoy it. And giving readers joy in reading my work was why I started self-publishing in the first place, right?
I shouldn’t give it to him, but what the hell? He already knew my name. He could just Google it, then read my books online. Damn it, I should have used a pen name.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Just don't... just don’t bend the pages too much, okay? I hate when people do that, and this is the only hard copy of my book.”
“Gotcha.” Kevin stood up and went to retrieve the book from the kitchen counter. A wave of pineapples hit me as he breezed past.
“Hemlock, huh?”
“What?” I turned around to face him. He was studying the cover of my book, which showed a man and a woman in an intimate position.
“Audrey Hemlock,” he repeated and looked up at me. I was having trouble maintaining eye contact. “Do you receive a lot of shit because of your last name?”
Huh? What did he mean by that?
Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach disappeared.
“And what is your last name?” I challenged him.
He smirked at that. It wasn’t a nice sight, watching him smirk. It made his face look all twisted and unpleasant.
Maybe he wasn’t so good-looking after all.
“Bond,” he said, turning his back on me and heading towards his room with my book in hand. “Kevin Bond.”
Chapter 3
The asshole wasn’t lying. His last name really was Bond.
“He used to do that in middle school all the time,” Zane told me. “Whenever someone asked for his name, he would go.” My bes
t friend deepened his voice. “Bond. Kevin Bond.” He doubled over, tears in his eyes.
“Well, it isn’t funny,” I muttered, wiping my running nose and then blowing it. It was just my luck that I had caught the flu on my first day of work. I threw the crumbled tissue away and then shoved two blouses—my only two—in my roommate’s face. “Which one?”
“I don’t know.” He was still giggling. “Wait, and you came back to him reading one of your books?”
“Which one, Zane?”
“The pink. It suits your skin tone.”
I hung the other blouse back in my closet and took out two pencil skirts. “Which one?”
“White.”
I stood in front of the tiny mirror that was attached to my closet and started dressing up.
My roommate came up behind me. “So?”
“So, what?”
“Which book was he reading? Your latest one?”
I scowled at his reflection. “It doesn’t matter. He’s an ass.” I deepened my voice just like Zane had. “Do you receive a lot of shit because of your last name? Who does he think he is? If he loses my book, I swear to God we’ll have to kick him out.”
Zane massaged my shoulders. “Relax, cookie. I’m sure he was joking.”
“Joking?” I turned around. “How is that even remotely funny?”
Zane considered it. “Okay, maybe he wasn’t joking. Maybe you’re right and he is just an ass. Either way, we really need his help in sharing the rent. That’s why I had to make the great sacrifice of sharing a room with you.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Sacrifice? Come on, I’m not that bad of a roommate.”
“No, I meant I can’t have people coming over to fuck because I’m sharing a room with you now.”
“Oh.” I turned back to the mirror, put my pencil skirt on, and fixed my hair. “Do it on the couch outside? Only on your spot, though. Do it on mine, and I’ll have your head.”
He laughed and walked away for a second before returning with a couple more tissue papers. He handed them to me. “No way. The damn thing is too squeaky and uncomfortable. Kevin would hear us.”