Model behavior a forbidd.., p.4
Model Behavior: a forbidden roommate romance (Wrecked Roommates), page 4
I’m such an idiot.
Another sigh escapes me. “I don’t know yet. I’m going to go job hunting tomorrow and see what I can find.”
“And how long are you planning on staying?”
I shrug. “How long am I welcome?”
“For however long you need me. Just as long as you don’t go back to that asshat––”
“I thought we were going to discuss that later,” I grit out with a narrowed gaze.
“You were,” Jake interjects, reading the situation like a seasoned pro. “Right, Milo?”
Milo stays silent, but his glare is louder than a damn foghorn.
“It’s late,” Jake points out. “I’m sure she’s tired and could use some rest. Let’s wrap this up, and we can all get some sleep, okay?”
Finally, Milo nods. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Come on. We’ll show you upstairs,” Jake prods, guiding us back to the front of the house.
The stairs creak slightly from our weight as Jake continues the little tour. When we reach the second floor, he points to the right. “Mine and Milo’s rooms are over here.” Then he veers left and motions to a shut door. “And this is Sonny’s room. You’ll rarely see him because he works nights, so he sleeps a lot during the day, and when he isn’t sleeping, he’s usually writing music and kind of keeps to himself.”
“A musician?” I inquire, studying the closed white door curiously.
“Yeah. And the corner bedroom is”––Jake coughs as the familiar sound of moaning seeps beneath the closed door––“River’s room. He’s uh…”
“Yes! Yes! Right there! Yes!” a girl shouts.
“Kind of a slut,” Jake finishes. “If you want to swap rooms so you don’t have to listen to this every night, let me know.”
My cheeks redden as the girl on the opposite side starts to whimper in rhythm to the bed butting against the wall. It’s followed by a low masculine groan that I assume belongs to River.
Clearing my throat while praying Jake and Milo don’t notice my bright red face, I reply, “It’s totally fine. I’ll just buy some noise-canceling headphones or something. And I assume this room’s mine?” I motion to the closed door sandwiched between Sonny’s and River’s rooms on the left while doing my best to ignore the crescendo of a job well done starring one of my new roommates whom I’ve yet to meet with all his clothes on.
Milo doesn’t seem particularly bothered by his friend’s sexcapades which only raises more questions for me. Does River always have girls in his room? And are they always so freaking loud?
“Yeah, this is your room,” my brother answers, reminding me of my question from two seconds before. “There’s a spare bed in here from when Fender moved out a few months ago to go on tour, so you should be good to go.”
“Another musician?”
“Yeah. He’s Sonny’s brother.”
“Half brother,” Jake corrects Milo. “You saw him tonight at SeaBird. His band was on the stage.”
The haunting melody from earlier echoes through my head before I shake it off. “And he doesn’t want to move back in? I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes––”
“You’re not,” Jake interrupts. “He’s been back for a few weeks and has been sleeping on his buddy’s couch. I think living with Sonny was a little much.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Reaching around me, Jake twists the handle then pushes the door open. “Welcome home.”
The room is simple, with plain white walls and a bare queen-sized mattress tucked against the back corner. But a hole near the lightswitch is hard to miss. I drag my finger across the cracked sheetrock and mutter, “Why is there a hole in the wall?”
“Fender,” Jake answers simply. “We’ll get it patched tomorrow.”
“I can fix––”
“Not a big deal, Reese. I’ll get you taken care of.”
I nod, then continue my perusal. There’s a window on the opposite side with the blinds pulled closed and a long, waist-high empty dresser beneath it. My guilt rears its ugly head for the thousandth time tonight as I take in Milo’s generosity that’s laid out before me.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?” I grimace.
“Stop asking stupid questions. The bathroom is right here.” My brother points to the door opposite mine. “You share it with River and Sonny. Keep it locked when you’re in there so no one walks in on you.”
Jake adds, “Any questions?”
I scan the empty bedroom another time. “Um…sheets?”
“I’ll get them for you,” he answers before disappearing to rummage through a hallway closet.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Milo rumbles. His scruff tickles the top of my head as he pulls me into his chest. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Squeezing him with all my strength, I breathe in deep and soak up his affection like a dry sponge. “Goodnight, Milo. And thanks––”
“Stop thanking me,” he orders before letting me go. “We’re family. ‘Night.”
“Goodnight,” I repeat.
Satisfied, Milo saunters to the opposite side of the long hallway toward his room as Jake returns with a set of white cotton sheets that smell like laundry detergent.
We make quick work of putting them on the mattress in silence. I think he knows I’m too emotionally drained to make small talk, and he’s awesome enough to respect that. After examining our handiwork, Jake tucks his hands into his pockets. “Do you need anything else?”
“I think I’m okay. Thank you, though.” I sit on the edge of my freshly-made bed while Jake heads to the hallway, ready to call it a night.
“Anytime,” he replies over his shoulder. “See you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He disappears from view, following my brother from a few minutes before until I’m left alone, and the day finally catches up with me.
All I want to do is curl up into a ball and sleep for a week, but I need to wash my face and pee before I can finally give in to my exhaustion. I also need a freaking toothbrush, but that’ll have to wait until tomorrow.
Resting my head in my hands, the quiet in the room finally whispers the truth that I’ve been trying to avoid all day. But it hits me harder than a wrecking ball.
Ian and I are over. We’re really over. I refuse to go back to him again. Even if he was my first. Even if we’ve been together so long that I don’t remember what it’s like to be without him. Even if I know this’ll be messy and that Ian won’t let me go easily. Not when he needs me.
But I can do this. I can stand on my own.
Can’t I?
My body feels heavy as I push myself up from my bed and head to the bathroom. I splash some cool water on my face then cringe as I take in the bags under my eyes in the mirror. I look like crap, and my freckled skin is even paler than usual. Hell, I look like a freaking ghost.
No wonder Ian was screwing other people.
I squeeze my eyes shut and grab the hem of my white T-shirt before remembering that I don’t have any pajamas to change into. I didn’t bring any.
Well, that’s just lovely.
Gritting my teeth, I yank off my bra and weave it through the armhole of my T-shirt.
I should’ve grabbed a few things before I stormed out of my apartment. That would’ve made my next twenty-four hours so much easier, but apparently, I’m batting a thousand lately.
White bra in hand, I fling the bathroom door open and run into a very hard, very naked, and slightly sweaty chest.
Oomph.
My palms press against it in self-preservation as a gasp escapes me.
“Shit, sorry,” River mutters. His hands envelop my biceps, making sure I’m steady while simultaneously putting two feet of distance between us. “You okay?”
Frazzled, I look up at him with wide eyes.
“Uh, yup,” I squeak. “Sorry. I was just in my own little world, I guess.”
“No worries.” A smirk teases his lips as he scans me up and down before dropping his gaze to his bare feet, where my bra is currently residing.
Shit.
Scrambling for it, I squat down to pick up my bra then swallow my tongue as I look back up at a very amused River.
Girl on knees in front of hot guy with no shirt on…now this is a precarious position.
I gulp but hold his gaze as my hand mindlessly searches for the lacy fabric that got me into this position in the first place. When my fingers brush against the elastic strap, I fist the material and offer my new roomie a tight smile.
But I don’t move another muscle.
I can’t.
I’m too frozen with embarrassment, and self-consciousness, and awkwardness, and maybe a little curiosity too. Not that I’d actually do anything. Not that he’d even want me to. But my brain has been mush since I found Ian and his skank. And for some reason, the heat in River’s eyes seems to recharge me instead of siphoning off the last of my energy like everything else in my life.
Or maybe I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep and sheer exhaustion.
His deep chuckle makes my insides tighten as he offers his hand to help me up while simultaneously breaking the spell he’d cast on me.
Clearing my throat, I take it. His palm is warm and––despite his pretty-boy eyes that hint he’s never worked a day in his life––they’re a little calloused, too, which only fuels my curiosity for the enigma in front of me. My forearms pebble with awareness from his touch, but I ignore it and pull myself up.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble under my breath.
“Is that what you’re sleeping in?”
Confused, I look down to examine my outfit and find the girls practically playing peek-a-boo through the thin material of my shirt. My face scrunches up in embarrassment.
And it just had to be white, I think to myself before folding my arms across my chest.
He smirks. Again. That same arrogance hovers around him like a familiar security blanket that’s both annoying and hot as hell. He knows he’s attractive. He knows he’s making me squirm. He knows that I know that he knows.
And he’s thriving off it.
With a huff, I explain, “I had to get out of my place in a hurry and forgot to grab a change of clothes. I would ask if you have a T-shirt I could borrow or something, but since I’ve never actually seen you wearing one, I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re a little behind on your laundry.”
He laughs, then steps around me and back into his room without uttering a single word. Baffled and more curious than I’d like to admit, I watch him disappear for maybe three seconds before a cotton missile comes flying through the doorway and hits me in the chest.
I catch it, lifting the T-shirt into the air. The material is gray and looks worn in a way that only the best of shirts are. A University’s logo is printed on the front of it. I cock my head to the side and ask, “Do you go to LAU with Jake?”
His mouth quirks up in amusement, but he doesn’t answer me as he saunters back into the hallway. “We should probably get some shut-eye. After all, I gotta take care of the moneymaker, and I’ve heard you had a long day.” He tacks on another sexy wink. “Goodnight, Roomie.”
My heart flutters in my chest, but I shove the foreign feeling aside. “Goodnight. And thanks for the T-shirt.”
Another smirk. Then he steps around me and closes the bathroom door behind him, leaving me alone in the hall as I stare at the solid piece of wood that separates us.
Unable to help myself, I lift River’s shirt to my nose and breathe in the unique scent of laundry detergent and Old Spice, then stare at the closed door where he’s hiding.
River…who are you?
And why do you smell so freaking good?
5
Reese
With my face pressed against the pillow after a restless night of sleep, I groan. So help me, if that phone vibrates one more time, I’m going to throw it against the wall and break it into a million pieces. I peek one eye open and take in the soft light from the window that casts a cool glow across the room.
It’s too early to be awake right now, especially after the day I had yesterday. I squeeze my heavy eyelids closed another time, then pull the pillow on top of my head in hopes of falling back asleep. But my phone vibrates against the nightstand another time.
Cursing under my breath, I mumble, “No, no, no, no. I just want to sleeeep.”
It continues buzzing away until I finally chuck my pillow against the opposite wall, then give in and look at the screen.
My teeth grind together as I slide my thumb along the screen to answer the call and seethe, “It’s five in the morning, Ian.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, I was sleeping like a baby,” I lie. “And you woke me up.”
“We should talk.”
Scoffing, I roll onto my back and stare up at the white ceiling above me. “Of course, you wouldn’t apologize for wrecking my beauty sleep. What do you really want, Ian?”
“I already told you. I want to talk.”
“You’ve already said your piece, remember?”
“Yeah, well, I want to say it again.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “And you think five in the morning is the best time to do that? I’m already pissed at you––”
“Listen––”
“No. I’m done listening. I’ve put up with…” My voice cracks. An image of the blonde bimbo rears its ugly head in the back of my mind.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I really am. I’m an asshole, and I deserve being in the doghouse, but you have to forgive me at some point, babe. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
Licking my lips, I take a deep breath. “I want to break up, Ian.”
“No.”
It’s the way he says it that nearly breaks me.
“Please,” I beg. “You don’t love me anymore. Just let me go.”
“No,” he repeats without a shred of sympathy. His stubbornness takes hold until the man I fell in love with is swallowed up by an arrogant asshole who doesn’t care about me. Only himself.
A tear slips past my defenses then runs down my temple and into my messy hair as I continue staring at the ceiling above me. “I don’t want to be with you anymore, Ian.”
“How can you say that? We love each other––”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have slept with someone else. I just want to pick up my stuff and start over. Please?”
“You know I can’t do that, babe. You’re my ride or die. I need you. My family needs you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to control my breathing, though it’s a losing battle. My chest rises and falls in short spurts, my heart beating faster and out of rhythm until I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
“I don’t want to be your ride or die anymore. You screwed that up by sleeping with someone else.”
“Where are you?” he demands.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me.”
“I have to go.”
“Reese––”
I hit the end button before I can talk myself out of it, then curl onto my side and pull my knees up to my chest into the fetal position.
I hate him.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
Attempting to stave off a panic attack, I focus on my breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
It’s okay.
It’s going to be okay.
He’s just a guy. An asshole of a guy that I gave myself to when I was too young to know better. And even though I can’t really remember a time without him, I can turn over a new leaf, and I’ll be okay. Eventually.
With the knowledge that there’s no chance I’m going to be able to fall back asleep after a conversation like that, I head to the bathroom and change into my clothes from yesterday.
The men’s large T-shirt mocks me as I fold it carefully while appreciating the soft material between my fingertips. It really is a nice shirt. One with memories attached to it, though I’m not privy to what they are. I can just tell, and I would love to dive into those memories with a bottle of wine instead of drowning in my own that are much less sweet and so much more damaged.
Sighing, I take the shirt back into my room and set it on the edge of the mattress while ignoring my conscience that’s telling me to leave it in the hallway by River’s closed door. Besides, I might need it another night or two until I can figure out what to do about my stuff, right? I might as well keep it. Then I’ll give it back to River later. Not a big deal.
I roll my eyes, hating the need to justify my possessiveness over something that doesn’t belong to me while simultaneously hating the possibility of giving it back to its original owner when I haven’t slept that well in months.
It’s not just the shirt, though, I tell myself. It’s the bed. And the room. And the house. And the knowledge that my big, overprotective brother is just down the hall too. He’s ready to fight any demons that come knocking at his front door. Including Ian.
The stairs creak as I creep down them as quietly as I can. The sound makes me cringe before I reach the front door and open it carefully. Satisfied I haven’t bothered anyone, I tuck my hands into my front pockets then walk down the street. The morning mist brings a chill to my bare arms, but I kind of love how awake it makes me feel. Like a rush of adrenaline is spiking through my veins until my casual walk turns into a full-on sprint down the empty street. Chucks pounding against the concrete. Wind rushing through my messy waves. And a promise that whispers in the gentle breeze.
I’m going to get through this. I have to.
My lungs burn with exhaustion, but the endorphins give me the high I’m desperate for, and I cling to the hope that it’s going to be okay.
I’m going to be okay.
I just don’t know how yet.
Resting my hands on the top of my head, I catch my breath while eyeing the grocery store across the street. My hand slips into my back pocket and toys with a folded up ten-dollar bill. Now that I’ve burned off my adrenaline, I’d kill for a coffee. I should probably check to see if they’re hiring while I’m here too. Since, ya know, working in a grocery store is exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life. But at least it’s something.
