by Diana Nixon
She wasn’t tall, and even wearing heels that were as black as her hair, she was shorter than me, maybe 5’2” compared to my 6’0”. She bent down to pick up something that she dropped to the floor and I immediately high-fived her choice of clothing. Her ass looked perfect in those small shorts of hers. Her bright pink T-shirt ended a little over the edge of her shorts and I could see the ink on her back. All of a sudden, I wanted to come closer, push her T-shirt up and look at her tattoo.
Then I saw another one – on the inside of her forearm. It was made in a thin line; must be a quote or something. One more tattoo was on her shoulder – two black bleeding hearts entwined with roses that disappeared beneath her T-shirt. I always harbored a soft spot for girls with tattoos.
“I didn’t know we had hired a sexy maid to clean up for us,” I said, watching her flick away crumbs from our kitchen table.
She turned around; her big blue eyes outlined with black winged eyeliner shot daggers. I bet if those were real, I would be dead the very moment her eyes landed on me.
Man, was she beautiful. Even more beautiful than I imagined when spying on her. Her eye color contrasted with the blackness of her hair and her tanned skin, making her look a little out of place, like she just returned from a vacation from one of those white sandy beaches. No doubt, she would look mind-blowing in a small black bikini that would reveal her tattoos. Where else did she have them? My hands itched to check it out.
“You guys are pigs,” she hissed, throwing crumbs into a trashcan. “I wouldn’t be surprised to see rats running all over this place.”
“Then I guess I owe you a THANK YOU, Cherry.”
“What did you just call me?”
I stepped closer, close enough to take a deep breath and let her sweet smell fill me up from within.
“Mmm… I always loved cherries,” I sang in a low voice.
“Happy for you.” She took a few steps back, leaned against the kitchen counter and gave me a careful head-to-toe look. Shamelessly her eyes moved from my bare feet and up my jeans, pausing long enough on one particular part of my body that was a little to the south from my waist. She licked her soft pink lips and continued her exploration, now moving her gaze up my chest, showing off from under the unbuttoned shirt.
“You can touch it if you want.” I winked at her.
The corners of her perfectly sculptured lips twisted in a sarcastic smile. “Keep dreaming.” She crossed her arms and met my stare without hesitation.
“Something’s telling me that my dreams tonight will be amazeballs.”
“Speaking of your balls…” She pointed at my jeans. “They are drenched.”
My eyes followed hers, and I laughed quietly. “It’s just the water from the shower. I didn’t have time to find a towel, I just moved in here.”
“Right.”
“Which also means I’m going commando, if that’s what you are wondering at the moment.”
She smirked and shook her head. “Looks like someone is too full of himself.”
“From what I can see, that makes two of us.”
She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, then changed her mind.
“Nice tat,” I said, nodding to her shoulder. “How many more do you have?”
“Not that you will ever be blessed to find it out.”
I laughed. “Ouch, I’m hurt.”
“You’ll survive.”
And maybe we would exchange a few more perky retorts, if it were not for the sound of clip-clopping against the floor.
“Hey, Rhea, your phone’s been buzzing for twenty minutes now. Care to answer it?” A cute blondie power walked into the room and slammed the phone against the kitchen table. “What the hell are you doing here anyway? I thought you went to Starbucks to grab us some coffee.”
Just then, the blondie graced me with her attention.
Her shining lips twisted in a big smile. “Well, hello, cutie. Who are you? I’m sure I wouldn’t forget seeing you before.”
Miraculously I managed to unglue my eyes from her more than impressive cleavage, outlined by the tight as hell white top and looked her in the eye, saying, “I would never pass on the opportunity to introduce myself to such a candy.” I saw Rhea roll her eyes. “I’m Jeffrey, by the way,” I said to both of them. “And you are…?” I turned to the blondie.
“Sandy, that goes well with candy,” she giggled and shook my outstretched hand.
“My pleasure.”
Meantime, Rhea came closer and gave my jeans another look. “You should probably buy more than one towel, Jeffrey. You know, in case one is not enough to dry your… bal…I mean jeans.”
Oh, I loved those little devils dancing in her eyes.
“I’ll most likely follow your smart advice, Rhea.” She had a beautiful name; I loved the way it rolled off my tongue. It sounded like a Greek name. I made a mental note to google it.
“Let’s go, Sandy. Jeffrey has boxes to unpack.”
The blondie smiled one more time and winked at me saying, “If you need help, our room is two doors to the left from yours.”
“I’ll remember that. Have a nice day, ladies.”
I watched them leave the room with a big smile spreading all over my face.
Maybe staying in New York will be even better than I expected.
Just when I turned around to see if there was any coffee in the kitchen, I heard the noise coming from the living room.
“Shit!” Rhea swore and kicked one of my boxes with her shoe.
“What happened, Cherry? Did you just trip on your shinning halo?”
“No, idiot! On your brain that you must have dropped when your dick jumped out of your jeans to greet Miss Sandy Candy.” Her friend was no longer in the room.
I couldn’t help myself. Laughing under my breath I said, “Jealous already? Come on baby, we just met and I haven’t even ‘greeted’ you properly, not yet anyway.”
She clenched her teeth and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
I laughed even harder. Who was she anyway? And why would she care about cleaning the mess in my room?
I took my phone and typed one and the same response to the three of my friends, “The game is on! See you after I win a round or a dozen.” I hit 'send' and walked to the coffee machine that, of course, was empty.
I gave my unpacked boxes a lazy look and thought my need for caffeine was stronger than the desire to deal with them. Besides, I remembered Sandy mentioning Starbucks, so there’s where I headed.
If you think I went there to see Rhea again, you are wrong. At least so I thought when I grabbed the key to my room and my wallet and headed out, telling myself to play it cool if Cherry was still in the shop.
I loved the nickname I gave her. It made her look even more yummy. I would gladly have her for breakfast instead of coffee, but something about the way she treated me said she would gladly burn my balls with her steaming coffee first.
CHAPTER 2
Rhea
You have got to be fucking kidding me…
The Jeffrey Asshole or whatever his last name was, just walked into Starbucks and all the girls almost broke their necks to check him out; their jaws dropped to the floor. Seriously?
“He’s just a guy, people!”
“Who are you talking about?” Sandy asked and took another sip of her caramel latte.
“Him,” I pointed my finger at the new local crush. No doubt, all first-year female students were going to come to every damn party just to see him there.
“Oh, that’s the hottie we met back in the dorm!” She waved for him to join us.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“What? He’s new here, he doesn’t know anyone. We should be more hospitable.”
“Well, hello there? We are new here too, remember? The fact that your three brothers and two sisters graduated from this very university and you know every damn corner of the campus doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I don’t
like him.”
The sexy newbie just had to wave back, then headed straight to where we were sitting. Did I just call him sexy? Well, I didn’t have any sight problems, so figures I couldn’t miss the fact that the guy did look good. Maybe just a little better than good. Really good. He was well-built and you didn't need to be a genius to know that he spent a lot of time in a gym. His white shirt outlined his broad shoulders and every damn muscle of his chest. Not to mention his arms, kissed by the sun, with every small vein popping out to demonstrate his masculinity. He had this young Adonis look going on that no doubt made all the girls around him run to reapply their lipstick, and put on the highest heels they owned just to make him grace them with a nod. He had beautiful eyes as well – that I couldn't deny no matter how hard I tried not to think about the rest of his sexy package. His eyes were of a deep blue color, the one you would see touch the sea in stormy weather. They screamed intensity, power and determination. As if he always knew what he wanted and never doubted a way to get it, now. He stepped into the sunlight coming from the floor-length window and his dark brown hair suddenly shone chestnut with bronze highlights brought out from within the dark strands.
Something magnetic radiated all over him. The something that made it harder to stop glaring at him when he entered the café. He smiled at the girl sitting not far away from us and she almost had a heart attack. Well, maybe if I were not 100% sure he knew about the effect he had on girls and used it against them, I would have some mercy on him.
Meanwhile, I preferred to stick to 'your attractiveness isn't working on me' side.
“Missed me?” He flashed us the brightest smile ever.
“You can’t even imagine,” I muttered grumpily, toying with my half-empty cup. Did I feel nervous? Did his presence make me feel nervous? No freaking way.
“So what coffee is the best here?" He asked, taking a seat facing me. "I really need some caffeine to kick in my brain. So I don’t feel like I dropped it somewhere.” He dared to give me another brilliant smile, followed by a very meaningful look.
“You know what? I’d better finish my drink in the room,” I said, rising. “I need to get ready for my early morning class tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. We don’t have classes on Sundays.”
Well, thank you, Miss Congeniality Sandy!
I made my best innocent face. Though me and innocent had never been besties. “I still need to do something very important. You two enjoy your coffee." I started to walk away, then walked back to where they were sitting and said, "By the way, double cappuccino with cherry syrup is the best here.” I held hottie’s gaze for a few seconds, then turned on my heels and left the café.
Why the hell did I walk back to tell him about the cherry cappuccino? It was my favorite drink, and I didn’t want it to become his favorite too. Like I owned the rights for its recipe.
Right…
I shook my head and slowed down my pace. I felt like I had been running away from a lion who couldn’t wait for the moment to swallow me alive.
Only Jeffrey wasn’t a lion. He was a much more dangerous creature, and I needed to stay away from him. Despite the fact that my boyfriend shared a room with him, and I would have to face Jeffrey's smug face on a daily basis if not more often. I knew guys like him – self-assured jerks who first pretended to be sweet and funny and then fucked up your life, broke your heart and never called back after sleeping with you. Definitely not what I wanted to happen to me now, or ever for that matter.
To be honest, I rushed a bit with calling Kenneth my boyfriend. We were good friends, with no benefits, no matter how many times he tried to change it.
He and I were both from downtown New York; we went to the same school and lived just a few houses away from each other. When on the day of his graduation he was chosen to be the king of the prom, he naturally thought it was a good enough reason for me, or any other girl, to sleep with him. Not that I shared his enthusiasm. After he moved to campus, we didn't see each other much. Then, when my last pre-university summer break started, he came home for the weekend and asked me out. We did have a good time together, even though I still wasn't sure about the future of our relationship.
Neither he nor I wanted to live at home after we had been accepted to the university, so now we both lived on campus, just two rooms away from one another. Kenneth was the oldest of three children. His father left them shortly after his youngest sister was born, so now he was the head of the family and worked his ass off to help them as much as possible.
Kenneth had been really nice to me. On my first day here, he showed me around and helped me unpack my things and even found me a better room that was much closer to his than the one I was originally supposed to live in.
Sandy turned out to be my only roommate. We were polar opposites in everything. She was a spoiled daddy's girl who always got what she wanted; I was a rebel who more than often made my teachers call my father asking him to do something with my 'bad manners'. Sandy adored cats and I hated them; she didn't like the sun, because it was a killer for her fair skin, and I adored sunbathing, surfing and everything that went along with the ocean and freedom. But there was one thing that she and I were major fans of - all things Greek. I inherited my passion from mom, who used to be a historian, and Sandy – from her trips to Greece, where her father often went for business negotiations and took her with him.
My roommate was going to specialize in management. I’m not sure what she wanted to manage, but she said it didn’t really matter, as long as she had a husband who would make her every wish come true.
Unlike her, I couldn’t afford daydreaming about finding a husband to do everything for me. Because six years ago, I had to learn how to do everything on my own.
I was twelve when my mom died from a stupid fly that would never have taken her life away if my father was at home more often and did what men usually do around the house instead of making mom do everything on her own. But he preferred working 24/7 for a pompous businessman who wouldn’t let him have a single day off in months. Dad said he couldn’t complain about it, because the boss paid well enough to support our family and this was the only thing that mattered back then.
But even after mom died, my father’s schedule didn’t change. Only now, there was no one I could rely on when it came to helping me with my homework, cooking or cleaning or shopping or whatever the hell else a twelve-year-old girl needed to do.
I can’t say I was lacking my father’s attention. He loved me, I knew it. He did his best to make sure I had everything I ever needed. Though all I ever needed and wanted was my mom to be back with us. And that was one thing he couldn't make happen.
This was also the main reason I loved the idea of moving out and bringing all my things to the university campus. Even six years later, it was still hard to walk into my mom's room and not to see her there. I used to come there every time I needed to talk to someone. I told her all my secrets as if she could still hear me, even though I knew she would never talk back to me. A part of me died with her. A part that used to know what true happiness meant…
I walked into my new room, closed the door behind me and leaned against it. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down. Thinking about mom always brought that stupid feeling of helplessness that I hated so much. I missed her like hell and nothing on earth could make me stop missing her. But I was a big girl now and I couldn't let my pain ruin me once more. The months after the funeral were the hardest. Never in my life had I felt so lost and lonely. Needless to say, my life changed enormously.
I came home late from school, refusing to stay alone in the house where every small thing reminded me of my mom. I cut off my long hair, dyed it bright purple and changed my school uniform to mini-skirts and T-shirts that made my teachers shake their heads in judging disapproval. Apart from that, I started skipping classes and found my escape in reading. I could spend a whole day in my school library, reading history books. Mom adored them. Maybe that's
why when reading, I felt like she was still with me, standing or sitting next to me, holding my hand and telling me everything was gonna be okay. My librarian, Mrs. Douglas always said that people who loved reading would never know loneliness. I couldn't agree more. Books became my painkillers, my rescue and my best friends.
Speaking of friends…
I looked at my watch and thought about Kenneth. It was almost noon; he must still be working. He told me not to make any plans for tonight because he had a surprise for me.
God, I hated surprises, whether they came to all shit romantic or presents for Christmas. Maybe that's why I refused to become a girlfriend of the guy who seemed to be genuinely enjoying my company. Or maybe there was something else, something that was missing in our relationship and wouldn't let me take another step forward. I wondered if I wanted to ever figure it out.
I took my phone and texted Kenneth: "What time shall I be ready for your surprise?"
"Six PM," was his response. "Put on something nice."
Ugh, you can't be serious…
I hated nice. Nice meant sticking to the rules that I was terrible at following. But why not try to be nice? For once.
I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. I can do that, can't I? Sure thing. You can do anything you want, Cherry.
Why the hell would I call myself that? I shook my head in frustration. The morning meeting with Mr. Hot Jeffrey affected me more than it was legal, considering I hated guys like him and never let any of them get under my skin, not to mention into my panties. Though somehow, the more I thought about Kenneth's new roommate, the stronger was my desire to know more about him.
With those tormenting thoughts in my head, I went to my closet, opened it and grimaced.
I totally forgot I didn't possess anything nice to wear for my date with Kenneth. Nice meant a dress or a skirt at the very least. But most of my wardrobe consisted of jeans, shorts, T-shirts of all known colors and oversized sweaters. Though there was one thing that I called my guilty pleasure.
Lingerie. I would trade my soul for a set of lacy lingerie. Black, purple, red, white, blue, green – any color would do. Too bad I couldn't show up in only my lingerie. No doubt, Kenneth would have approved of my choice.