by Chloe Grey
Mr. A2: I sent you a request.
Sure enough, he did. I accepted KevinBond007’s request, followed him back and refreshed my profile, secretly delighted at watching my follower count going up from 677 to 678. My notification tab lit up as he liked every single one of my pictures, which to be honest, wasn’t a lot because I didn’t post much.
Another notification popped up informing me he had commented on a post. It was my most liked and most commented photo, which was me on a beach wearing a red bikini. I was walking away, so the photo showed my back and ass, and I was looking to my right, laughing at something out of frame. That picture had been taken a little over a year ago when I was still with He Who Must Not Be Named. I still remembered that day. I was laughing at him. A stray beach ball had ruined the dark lord’s. Zane captured the moment, and I thought it was a good shot, especially with the sunset rays giving the image a natural, warm glow.
Mr. Asshole two commented, ‘Damn, the truck is really nice.’ There was a red truck barely visible at the top right of the image.
I laughed, drawing a curious glance from Zane. The comment was so out of place compared to the rest which was all compliments about me, specifically my ass. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Sexting again?” Zane asked me.
I humored him. “Yeah, I was sending him nudes. If he sends me his thick, veiny, huge, feel-good cock back, I’ll holler for you.”
My roommate frowned. “I know sarcasm when I hear it, cookie.” He grumbled his way back to silence.
The front door opened, and Mr. Asshole two strode in wearing a long-sleeved light brown Henley that hugged his muscles in all the right places. Paired with black slim fit chinos, he looked... there was no word that could describe him right then. I swore Zane salivated at the sight. Hell, I almost did.
Mr. Asshole two took his sunglasses off and handed Zane one of the two drinks he was holding. Zane didn’t thank him. He was still mesmerized. Mr. Asshole two made his way over to me and handed me the other one. Luckily, I had already snapped out of my trance, so I managed to mumble a thanks.
“Enjoy,” he said, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes before heading into his room.
MR. A2: Did you like it?
I replied to the text.
Me: Yeah, it was pretty good. And may I ask why are you texting me when you can come out here and ask?
Mr. A2: I’m naked in bed and reading your book. I like Jasmine so far. From your description, she seems really hot.
I wanted to joke and reply with ‘It’s okay. You can come out here -wink- -wink-’
Instead, I typed out, ‘So you like redheads with cute freckles?’ Because I vaguely remembered writing Jasmine as just that.
Mr. A2: I like all types. You?
Me: I’m attracted to non-cheaters.
Mr. A2: I’m curious. What did you name the other two dumbasses?
Me: Jon Snow and He Who Shall Not Be Named.
Mr. A2: Jon Snow? Like, from Game Of Thrones?
Me: Yeah. He knows nothing.
I heard laughter coming from his room. Although it was muffled, the sound flowed through me like warm water, making me tingle all over. I giggled.
Luckily Zane wasn’t there to make a comment. He had gone out half an hour ago to get dinner for all three of us.
I sat up when his room door opened, disappointedly revealing him in a plain black t-shirt and white shorts.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I said, my stupid face stupidly heating up.
“I was wondering if—”
Zane unlocked our door and burst inside.
“Dinner is here,” he sang out, skipping to the dining table. “Cookie’s favorite—fish and chips!”
Mr. Asshole two’s brow rose. He looked at me. “Cookie?”
“It’s a long story,” I answered before Zane could.
Mr. Asshole Two nodded, walked to the dining table, grabbed a box, and started to head back to his room.
“You’re not eating with us?” Zane asked him, surprised.
Mr. Asshole two closed the door behind him.
“DOES HE ALWAYS DO THAT?” Zane grumbled. “I don’t remember him being this mean.”
We were in our room, getting ready for bed. Or at least I was. Zane didn’t have a job—well, he technically did, but getting singing gigs at pubs had been tough for him—so he still had his sleeping privileges.
“Sometimes,” I said.
“Now I get what you mean,” Zane muttered as he climbed into his bed. “Man, that is such a turnoff.”
“Don’t take it personally,” I told him. But I was saying that for my friend’s benefit. If he ignored me like that, I would be upset too. “Sometimes he is an ass, but sometimes he can be nice.”
I couldn’t believe I was defending him. What the hell?
“Yeah, he’s nice to you because he likes you.”
“I doubt that,” I said. “Why would he be into a broke college graduate who is sometimes an alcoholic. He hates alcohol, remember?”
“Explain the long stares and sexting then.”
“Zane, our text conversations are very normal. He’s just a friend. Besides, a relationship with him or with anyone would never work with me. I’m cursed like that. I would rather just focus on my career and pay off my debt.”
“What about when you’re older? You said you wanted to start a family.”
I shrugged. “I could go to a sperm bank or something. I don’t know, Zane. Could we talk about something else?”
There was a knock on our door.
Zane threw his pillow aside and sat straight up. I unlocked the door and half opened it.
“Hey,” I said, looking up and breathing in pineapples.
“Hey,” Mr. Asshole two said. He was speaking in a low tone, like a breathy whisper, making his voice all sexy and seducing. I took a moment to drink him in.
His hair was a mess. He was still wearing his white buttoned-up shirt, but the top and second button were opened, exposing parts of his muscled pecs. He placed one arm on the door frame.
I snapped out of my trance before it became obvious that I was admiring him. “Do you want anything?”
“Yes.”
“Well? What do you want?” I asked when he didn’t say more.
“Audrey,” he said, leaning in. For a brief second, I could see more: his nipples, a glimpse of his washboard abs, ink.
He has a tattoo?
But what was more pressing was the way he said my name. It wasn’t like in the office or last night. My name rolled off his tongue like fine wine. There was an underlying silky purr to it, sending goosebumps prickling all over my arms.
Why did he say my name like that? Was Zane right all along? Does he have feelings for me?
So many questions I desperately wanted answered.
“Yes?” My voice came out in a whisper too. Our lips were so close. I could lean forward a little, and we would be making out.
“Let me drive you to work tomorrow. It would save time, and it’s better for the environment.”
I started to deny the request, but he must have sensed what I was about to say.
“I have a dedicated parking spot behind the building,” he told me. “No one would see us if that is what you’re afraid of.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even breathe.
“Say yes.”
“Yes.” The word popped out of my mouth. Before I could take it back, he was gone, leaving me with pineapples and a growing throb between my legs.
ZANE’S WORDS MIRRORED my thoughts. “What the hell was that?”
I allowed myself to breathe, leaning against the door to support my weakened knees. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck, cookie. I’m turned on.” He looked at me. “Is that weird?”
“Did you see the way he talked?” I asked. “All low and seductive?”
“Yeah,” my roommate replied, shaking his head. “He’s definitely into you. He’s de
finitely definitely into you.”
My back slid down the door, and I collapsed on the ground, hugging my knees. “I’m so fucked.”
“Why? Because he likes you?”
“I was hoping we could, you know, just be friends. Him having feelings for me complicates everything.”
“I have to reject him,” I continued. “Tomorrow, I’m going to make it clear that I want nothing more than a friendship. If he can’t accept that, then too bad.”
“What, why? I mean, he’s an asshole, but like I said the other night, deep down, he could be your Mr. Perfect. Despite what he did just now, I still believe that. Why not just... try?”
I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I can’t. I can’t be like you and keep trying until I find the right one. What if there isn’t anyone for me?”
“Cookie, there are more than seven bill—”
“No, you don’t get it. I can’t be like you. I can't fall in love again. I can’t suffer another heartbreak.” My voice started to get shrill. “Okay, let’s say we get together, and like all my relationships, things are looking great at first. I fall in love, and then what? So many things could go wrong. What if he starts losing interest in me? With his looks and wealth, he could easily find a better woman. Or maybe halfway down the line, he realizes I’m not as compatible as he had initially thought? Or what if he cheats on me? The best ones always do that. I can’t take another broken heart, Zane. It would kill me.”
“I’m sorry.” Zane came to me and sat down. “I knew your breakups were bad. Hell, I witnessed three, but I always thought you were like me and you could bounce back. I didn’t know it was this bad.”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m telling him tomorrow. Then I’ll forget this ever happened and concentrate on work. But I—”
“But what?”
I couldn’t control it then. Tears started rolling down my face. “I like him, Zane. I want him. Badly. I want to take this further, but I’m afraid. I’m so fucking afraid.”
Zane moved my hands off my knees and pushed my knees apart to hug me. I cried harder, sobbing into his shoulder.
“Shh, it’s okay. I got you.”
“Why does this keep happening to me? Why do I have to keep falling for someone?”
“I don’t know, cookie. I don’t know.”
Chapter 11
The smell of bacon woke me up.
Bacon?
I grabbed my phone next to my pillow and checked the time. Six thirty. My alarm would go off in fifteen minutes. I wanted the extra sleep, but curiosity got me out of bed. Zane was still asleep on his bunk above me. One of his arms hung limply down the side of the bed, and he was drooling. That made me smile.
I switched off my alarm, so it wouldn’t ring and checked myself out in the mirror. My eyes were a little red and puffy, but it wasn’t that bad. With a sigh, I headed out toward the bacon.
“Morning, Audrey,” Mr. Asshole two said when he saw me. Well, he didn’t see me. His back was turned, so I wondered how he knew I was there and how he was so sure it wasn’t Zane.
“Morning,” I mumbled, still groggy from sleep. “What are you doing?”
“Cooking.” I watched him flip an omelet in the air with a practiced flick of his wrist.
“Cooking? How did you get the pan?”
“I bought it,” he said simply, transferring the omelet to a plate with fried bacon on it.
Hey, so about last night. I appreciate everything you have done for me but I’m not interested in a romantic relationship. I hope you understand.
That was what I was supposed to say. But as I opened my mouth to say the words, my tongue decided to stop functioning.
He turned around and handed me the plate. It smelled so good. “Here.”
I took it, mumbling my thanks, and went to sit down at the dining table.
Say it. Just say it, Audrey. What’s so hard? It’s only a few sentences.
I looked at him, ready to spill my guts. My boss was all dressed up in a black suit, looking sharp. Just being near him made me feel so underdressed with just an oversized shirt on.
Wait.
I looked down to see what I wearing. Just a white cotton shirt and panties. The blood drained from my face.
If my boss noticed—which he definitely did, anyone would—he showed no signs with his facial expression. He sat opposite me with his own plate of omelet and bacon, focused on his phone.
Should I just sit here? He couldn’t see my bare legs, but what if I have to inevitably stand up? If I rush back to the bedroom to change, that would mean standing up now.
“I’ve got to go,” I squealed, and rushed to my room, tugging the hem of my shirt as low as possible.
I put on pants and placed my forehead on my room door, hoping a hole would open and swallow me this time. I stood there for a minute. Nope, no luck.
After a few minutes of telling myself how stupid I was, I went back to the kitchen.
When I reached the table, I started to sputter out apologies, but he talked first.
“Is Zane awake?” he asked, looking past me to my room. “I bought enough ingredients for three.”
“No, he’s still asleep.” I said, the words tumbling out of me.
I need to say it. I need to say it now before it’s too late and I inevitably fall for him like I had to ten other guys. I can’t make the same mistake again.
My lips stayed shut.
“Oh. Want coffee? I haven’t bought a coffee maker yet, but I have some instant ones.”
I nodded, and he went to make two cups. I mumbled a thank you again when he passed me the cup, though he gave me Zane’s cup and he had my Mickey Mouse one. Before I could say anything, he was already drinking from my sacred cup.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? He must have noticed what I was wearing. He probably was trying to not embarrass me by pretending he didn’t notice anything.
If he was, I should thank him, but that would mean admitting it happened.
Better if I pretended nothing happened too.
I bit into the omelet, and my eyes lit up from surprise. “It’s really good!”
He smiled. Not a smirk, an actual smile.
All thoughts left me as I caught the rare sight. I had to smile too because he really was way more handsome when he smiled. I could see the dimples in his cheeks and the light in his eyes.
“My mom’s a chef,” he said. “She taught me a couple of things.”
“You should teach me,” I told him, munching on my bacon. It was delicious too—the best bacon I had ever tasted. “Zane and I always eat out because we don’t know how to cook. It’s a huge money sinker for us.”
He nodded, digging into his own plate. “I can cook breakfast for us every working day. And if you ever need money, you can always come to me.”
The mention of money had me straightening up. I had forgotten he didn’t need to stay here. So why was he here?
“We’re leaving at half past seven,” he said. “So eat up, shower, and get dressed.”
After breakfast, I took a longer shower than usual, hitting my forehead repeatedly on the bathroom’s wall, disappointed in myself for not telling him what I wanted to say and remembering what just happened. I finally gave my forehead a break, dried myself off, and got dressed.
I had only two sets of professional outfits: two work blouses—pink and black—and two pencil skirts—white and gray. Since I had worn the pink blouse and white skirt on my first day, and a black blouse and a gray skirt on my second, I had to mix things up, so no one would notice my limited amount of clothes.
The black blouse and white pencil skirt were my final choice of the day. I would wear the rest as tomorrow's outfit.
Once I got my paycheck, I would invest in more clothing. Mixing and matching two blouses and skirts wouldn’t work forever.
Mr. Asshole two was waiting for me outside, sitting in my spot and reading on his iPad.
“You have a very acti
ve imagination,” he told me as I sat in Zane’s spot, directly opposite him.
“You’re reading the sex?”
“Yeah. Jasmine is giving Zac some head.”
“Oh,” I vaguely remembered writing that scene.
Now is the time to tell him. Do it.
He set his iPad aside and looked me up and down, an unreadable expression on his face. I would give good money to know what he was thinking at that moment.
I received the much needed surge of courage then.
“Hey, so about last—”
“Bright Crystal?”
We both talked and lapsed into silence at the same time.
I broke the silence first. “Bright Crystal? What’s that?”
“Your perfume,” he said. “It’s Versace, right?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I bought the cheapest one that smelled good. Yours is...” I tried to recall what Zane told me that night. “... Creed?”
He raised a brow. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess.”
He paused. It wasn’t the awkward pauses that he seemed to love doing. I could tell he was considering his next words.
His blue eyes searched mine. “Do you like it?”
“Your perfume?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s good,” I told him. It was not good. It was great. Amazing. Delicious. “Very fruity. How about mine?” I tried to say it calmly, but I tensed up. Somehow I actually cared what he would say next.
“Audrey, anything would smell good on you.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Complements from this man were a rare occurrence, so I knew he really meant it. “Thanks.”
He rubbed his chin. “What were you going to say?”
About last night. I am not interested in a romantic relationship right now. Say it, Audrey. Just say it.
My smile stayed in place. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
He nodded, got to his feet, and buttoned up his suit jacket. I stood up with him.
“Ready for work?”
I gave a mock salute. “Yes, Mr. A.”