Monday, late morning between classes, I drop onto the couch in the living room. Shaw tosses me a remote without asking and restarts Tecmo Super Bowl.
“Where were you last night?”
“With Chloe.”
He nods. “You missed a crazy night at the baseball house. Jefferson bought four boxes of wine.” Shaw shakes his head. “I had the mother of all headaches this morning. Cheap wine hangover is rough.”
“Yeah,” I agree, feigning interest, but in truth, a night out getting wasted with my buddies doesn’t have quite the same appeal anymore.
I side-eye him as I select the Raiders, and he picks the 49ers.
“Get the fuck out of here, you can’t play the 49ers.” The old video game was made with a clear bias. 49ers are unbeatable.
He grumbles but picks the Giants. “You and Chloe, huh? She seems cool.”
“She is.”
“Think she’d put in a good word for me with Sydney?”
I chuckle. I’m just as likely to need him to put in a good word for me, but obviously, I can’t tell him that so I keep my mouth shut as we play three games only opening it to trash talk him when I kick his ass all three times.
I glance up at the clock in the living room, and Shaw catches me and stands up quickly. “Shit, we’re gonna be late to Comm.”
“I’m thinking of skipping.”
Alright, so I’m a pussy. I don’t want to face Chloe. I’m not embarrassed about wanting her… I mean, who wouldn’t? But it’s hard to keep my brain… and my dick… in check when we go from rubbing up on each other in front of her roommates to her running away from me when we’re alone. After our time at the gym together and then last night… I guess I thought there were some real feelings there. Guess just on my part.
I know it seems like it’d be easy to remember she’s paying me to pretend to like her, but I try and block that detail out as much as possible.
She doesn’t like you like that, asswipe. Or maybe she does, but the way she catapulted herself out of reach last night just as I was about to kiss her—she’s not giving in to any baser-level instincts.
“Yeah?” Shaw nods and stands there thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll blow off my afternoon classes, too. I mean, if the captain of the basketball team can….” He shrugs with an annoying smirk.
“Fuck,” I say, but I stand and grab my backpack to head out.
We get to class a couple of minutes late, and I slip into the seat next to Chloe with a small smile in place. She scribbles onto her notepad and then angles it toward me.
Slacker
I take out a pen from the side pocket of my backpack.
Surfer Princess
Her face lights up and all that coaching I did on the way over about remembering my place and not getting in too deep goes right out the window. I proceed to draw an exaggerated sketch of her catching a wave.
She lifts a brow at the finished piece and writes, That’s not anatomically correct.
Okay, so I made her boobs a little—a lot—bigger. It’s art; a guy can dream.
You wanna work on the project tonight?
I hesitate with my answer, but I guess I’m a glutton for punishment. Sounds good.
After weightlifting, I head back to the house to shower and get ready for my study sesh with Chloe. I strip off my sweaty clothes and turn the shower on to let it warm up. While I wait, I scroll through my phone then say fuck it and pull up porn.
I’m not usually picky and will click on whatever the top trending videos are. Sex in just about any format does it for me. Today I’m looking for something specific. Or rather I’m excluding something specific. No blondes. No green eyes. Nothing that reminds me of Chloe.
That’s a lot of somethings it turns out because I scroll past video after video until I finally find one with a brunette with blue eyes framed behind dark-rimmed glasses. She wears a short skirt and a button-down white shirt that can barely contain her large boobs. The busty brunette leans over a large desk where some porn dude wearing only a tie tells her she’s been a very good secretary. I mute the sound as he comes around the desk and then bends her over it.
I wrap a hand around my semi. The steam from the shower starts to fog up the window in the bathroom and I put my phone on the counter and get more serious about this quickie release.
I glide my hand up and down my growing erection as I watch the CEO secretary fantasy play out. It’s pretty cliché and uninventive as far as porn goes, but my underutilized dick only cares about finally getting some action. And all I care about is getting off without thinking about the surfer princess driving me to bad porn.
Getting caught hooking up with other people would blow up our fake relationship façade, but even if I could get away with it, would I? Doubtful. My dick and I only seem to want her. Confirmed when I eventually close my eyes and step into the shower to play out my own cliché fantasy. The one that has a blonde goddess kneeling in front of me and taking me into her hot mouth as she looks up at me with those green eyes that own me.
All three of Chloe’s roommates sit in the living area with us while we work on the project. I feel like I’m a pretty good gauge of their acceptance of her and I’d give it a solid five. They aren’t including her, but they aren’t excluding her either, so it’s a start. The exception is Sydney. I don’t think Sydney dislikes anyone. She chatters non-stop while the five of us work, but she’s a nice buffer to what might otherwise be an awkward tension.
“I came up with a couple ideas on how to sell it to the class, but none of them are great,” Chloe says with a disappointed scowl.
Chloe and I sit on the floor again tonight. We’re side by side looking over her ideas. She leans over into my space and reaches for the current marketing plan notes on the floor beside me. I hold stock still and try not to notice how she always seems to smell like sunshine and the ocean or how her boobs brush against my arm. Aaaand fail. There’s no way not to notice her or the way my body responds to her.
She glances up, green eyes dark. I stand abruptly. “I gotta make a call.” Everyone in the room turns to look at me and I add, “Be right back.” I add in a wink for good measure before I slip into the hallway.
My damn palms are sweaty. I feel all strung out on hormones like some fucking kid finding daddy’s porn magazine stash. Except all she did was brush against me. For fuck’s sake.
I grip the phone tightly as I wait for Heath to answer.
“Hey.” He sounds like I woke him, and I have to check the time before I respond.
“Shit, sorry. Did I wake you?”
“How long have you been at Valley and you still forget you’re three hours behind.”
“Yeah, well, let this be your warning—don’t do drugs, fucks up your brain,” I joke.
He doesn’t laugh. “Thanks for taking care of the tickets.”
“You can repay me by not getting any more. Two in one week? That’s fucked up, Heath.”
“I know, I know. I feel awful, but I can’t take it back,” he mutters.
“I’m serious. I can’t bail you out again. Last chance.”
He grumbles out another sullen apology, and I feel like I’ve sufficiently made my point.
“Now that I went all Dad on you, tell me about hockey.”
Heath gives me a rundown on the team this year, and he sounds excited and determined, which makes me feel good about all I’ve done. I just want to give the kid everything I had and more. He finishes with a yawn.
“Send me your schedule. I’m gonna do my best to make it to at least one.”
“Alright.”
We’re both quiet, and I know I need to let him go and get back inside to Chloe. “Proud of you. Stay out of trouble, and I’ll call ya later.”
“Right-o, daddy-o.”
“Fucker.”
That gets a laugh out of him and makes me feel less like an old man.
I pocket my phone and head back into Chloe’s dorm. The girls barely look up at my re-entry. Chloe looks me over like she’s trying to determine my mood. Frustrated as hell, baby doll.
My shower time earlier didn’t do jack to stop me from wanting her. In fact, I think it did the opposite. I let my mind go crazy with possibilities and now I can’t stop picturing her doing every dirty thing she did in my fantasies.
“We were going to watch an episode of New Girl. You wanna stay?”
I glance at our half-finished marketing plan, and she follows my gaze. “I’ll finish it later.”
I know this concession is for her roommates—putting off homework so she can do what they want, and it pisses me off a little for her.
“I should go. I have some other things to do.” I nod to her laptop. “Email me what you have so far.”
“Oh, sure.” Her brows furrow in confusion. Probably because I haven’t questioned a thing she’s done on the project. I’ve let her take the lead and, to be honest, do most of the work. Aware that the roommates are watching now, I lean down and lift her chin so I can place a kiss on her lips. “Later.”
I’m buried in demographics and sales numbers for this stupid pen that I can’t imagine anyone wanting when my phone pings with a text notification. I rub at my eyes and close Joel’s laptop.
Chloe: You missed a great episode.
Fuck, I’ve been at it for two hours. Which means…
Me: Admit it, you watched more than one. Traitor.
Chloe: I didn’t exactly have control of the remote. They’re going to watch one more. Want me to wait and watch with you?
Me: Nah, go ahead.
Only a few minutes pass before she sends me another.
Chloe: What are you doing?
Me: Thinking about going to bed. Might go for a run first.
Chloe: A run before bed??
Me: Relaxes me, helps me fall asleep.
I leave out the fact it sometimes helps keep me asleep all night.
Me: What do you do when you can’t fall asleep?
Chloe: The usual. Count sheep, read a book, watch porn, listen to music.
Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You watch porn to help you sleep?
Chloe: Just checking to see if you were paying attention.
Me: To you? Always.
Me: Now back to my question.
Chloe: Having a roommate makes watching porn a little awkward.
Me: Bummer, I hadn’t thought of that. I myself enjoyed some erotica earlier today.
I’m afraid I’ve overshared when she hasn’t responded two minutes later. I’m about to turn my phone on silent for the night when a text finally appears on screen.
Chloe: Let me guess, lesbian porn?
Me: Nope.
Chloe: Gang bang?
Jesus Christ, I’m getting worked up just thinking about her sitting in her dorm tapping out those words.
Me: Nah, standard dude with chick porn. Sorry to disappoint, you freak.
Chloe: To each their own, I suppose.
A part of me, a very large, throbbing, hard part of me wants to push the conversation further. We’re only a few texts away from sexting. But this isn’t how I want to do this. I like Chloe, and I don’t want to be relegated to sexting and kisses when her roommates are watching.
Me: Night, freak. Talk to you tomorrow.
Chloe: Okay, well happy running and sweet dreams.
I hold my breath as I re-read it a dozen times. She’s hit a nerve and has no idea. Such an innocent sign off, but for me, it’s filled with all types of hope and promise. When I snap out of my shock, I respond in kind.
Me: Sweet dreams, Surfer Princess.
I push away from my desk and stare at my bed. Sweet dreams? Nah, that’s not likely.