Page 4 of Between Hate and Desire

I do my best to drown out the noise, but the walls are paper thin, so it’s no use. Part of me wants to give him a high five for pleasing this girl so well—if her screams are any indication—but considering they’re both probably drunk, I’m impressed with how long this continues. Guess I won’t be calling him “Limp Dick Locke” tomorrow.

“Fuck!” After one final loud thud against the wall, the apartment goes silent.

About goddamn time.

Rolling over, I shut my eyes and attempt to fall asleep. Ten minutes pass, and I’m still restless.

“Fuck it.” I decide to get up and grab something to drink. Maybe chugging three beers will help me pass out.

Without turning on any lights, I walk down the short hallway and see a glimmer of light coming from the kitchen. I turned off the lamps after my shower, so Brandon must’ve got up and I didn’t hear him.

Stepping into the kitchen, I notice the fridge door is open with an almost bare ass perked up in the air. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and thin panties while digging through our food.

God help me.

Apparently, Brandon’s date is raiding our fridge now. Decent ass, though.

Leaning against the counter, I cross my arms over my chest and loudly clear my throat. “What’re you?—”

Before I finish my sentence, something flies through the air, and I don’t dodge it quick enough before it grazes my right nut.

“Son of a bitch.” I barely get the words out and hunch over, holding my junk in my palm.

“Oh my God!” the girl squeals. “I’m so sorry! You scared the shit out of me!”

I’m ready to curse her out, but I can barely breathe as I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to regain my composure. “You…hit…me!” I hiss.

This is what I get for being thirsty.

“It was an accident!” She kneels, trying to console me.

“Don’t touch me,” I warn when a lock of blond hair lands on my arm. “I just…need a minute.”

Feet pad against the floor, then the flick of a light switch.

“Jesus, what the hell did you do to my roommate?” Brandon asks.

“I threw the bottle of Reddi Whip at his nuts,” the girl explains cautiously.

“Fucking hell.” Groaning through the pain, I squeeze my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t hear him approach, and then I heard his voice, and it was instinct,” she rambles a ridiculous explanation that has me seeing red.

“You okay, man?” Brandon tries to muffle his laughter as he pats my shoulder and offers me a hand.

I inhale a deep breath and swallow down the discomfort. Taking his hand, I stand and try to get my bearings before I chew her out.

“Sorry about that. She was thirsty and wanted some snacks,” he explains like I’m an idiot and didn’t hear their entire fuck session.

“Whatever, it’s fine.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to regain my control.

My vision finally clears, and it’s then I see the woman Brandon has his arms wrapped around, swatting her ass.

“Lennon,” I croak out, blinking, hoping I’m imagining her in front of me, standing in my kitchen with my best friend. My jaw tightens and my nostrils flare at seeing her pressed against him. What in the ever-loving fuck is she doing here?

“Hunter.” She says my name so softly I almost don’t hear it.

“You know each other?” Brandon asks, pulling her tighter as he looks at her like she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

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