Page 14 of The Roommate Situation

I was so scared when I thought I had upset him, but knowing what I know now, about his jerk of an ex, God I just want to throw a cupcake at the fart face for upsetting Rory. And I want to make sure that whatever he dealt with with him, he knows he’s safe here, with me. And that I will always respect him, because he deserves it. He deserves to be treated like the amazing dude he is.

Would I love to get another chance at having him suck my dick? Absolutely. Up until he bolted and I freaked the fuck out it was incredible. He’s got a mouth like a fucking hoover. But I’m also realizing just how much I want to be his friend, and how much I’m enjoying getting to know him. So if he wants more at some point, I definitely won’t say no, but I won’t bring it up, either.

I glance at him as he sits with his legs crossed on the chair. He’s so small he fits perfectly just like that. My dick twitches when I remember how amazing it felt to kiss him, and have my hands in his soft curls.

He looks up at me and gives me a soft smile. “Everything okay?” he asks.

I smile and nod, and go back to my homework.

SIX

RORY

“So, how’s the new roommate sitch?” Lucy asks as she, Jackson and I Facetime that night. I’m sitting on my bed, holding the phone in front of me and I can’t stop smiling. The way Lucy’s grinning I know Jackson told her who my roommate is.

“It’s good,” I say.

“You guys boning?” she teases.

“No, we’re not. God, not that I don’t want to, though. He’s so hot, and honestly, incredibly sweet, too. I don’t think I’m ready for that, though. Not after the other night.” Lucy and Jackson still don’t know about all the hurtful things Zach said to me when we were having sex, and just how much it affected me. He would complain that I wasn’t in the mood enough, but he demeaned me so much when we did fuck, that I got self conscious and didn’t want to have sex nearly as much after that. That just made him even more irritated. I felt like I was always having to be someone else in bed with him, and he was so in control I was just there for him, to help him get off. It was never about the two of us, andit certainly was never about me. I want to be with someone who cherishes me, who worships me, who makes me feel safe.

“It’s too bad I’m a lesbian or I’d be all over that,” she says, and I glare at her.

“Don’t you touch my Parker,” I say, and she and Jackson both laugh.

“Your Parker, huh?” Jackson says. “I think our little Rory has a crush on his roomie.”

I flush. “Shut up. I have to go. You two are awful.”

They laugh again and I grin, then say goodnight, and it’s not until I’m lying in bed a while later, starting to doze off, that I realize I enjoyed myself so much this evening, I forgot all about Zach being a jerk to me earlier in the bookstore.

It’s Sunday, and Parker and I have been roommates for a week now. Honestly I’ve enjoyed it so much I find myself missing him when I don’t see him for an entire day because our schedules don’t line up. We have some evenings together and a few mornings, but most of the time we either don’t see each other at all or we’re running past each other as the other is coming in or out of the apartment. He has been doing pretty much all the cooking, while I do the cleanup, and it’s amazing. He’s found multiple recipes that he actually enjoys and that I can eat, too. And he’s even watched a couple of documentaries with me and enjoyed them. One was on Lucille Ball, whom I absolutely love, and Parker found it fascinating. He’d never even heard of her, which I was blown away by. The other was on serial killers, which may have been a mistake as neither one of us slept that night, it turns out. And after realizing it, we decided that if we ever can’t sleep again we’ll see if the other is awake too.

Part of me is tempted to watch another creepy documentary just so I have an excuse to climb into Parker’s bed and cuddle. Being wrapped up in those strong arms would be amazing, and I bet I would sleep like a baby.

Right now, though, I’m in my bedroom, trying not to lose my mind as he and his buddies hoot and holler at the tv, commenting on whatever ball game they are watching. I don’t know anything about sports, except that they are loud and I suck at them. The real problem, though, is that between the tv being at full volume, (or at least it feels like it is), and their voices carrying through the apartment, I’m about to either throw up, or cry, even with my earplugs in.

I did okay for the first hour, but it’s been two hours now and my brain feels like it’s going to explode. I’ve got a headache and I’m feeling so overwhelmed I’m starting to shake. My brain is a foggy mess and I couldn’t work on homework if I wanted to, which I don’t. I could go to the library but I’m exhausted and I honestly just want to relax at home in my pjs and watch tv or read for a bit before going to bed.

I hate this. I hate that I can’t be normal and just deal with it, but I’ve never been able to handle settings like this for long without getting overstimulated. Noise is not my friend. I even have to barricade myself in my room after a couple of hours at home with my little sisters, or leave the house all together and go somewhere quiet so I can get a break, because no matter how much I love them, they’re so rambunctious. Mom and Dad realized it pretty early on and they take them out when I need some quiet time if they can. But I hate inconveniencing other people when they’re just living.

I groan and roll over on my bed with my hands over my ears, just praying it will be over soon, and a second later there’s a tap on my shoulder. I start and roll over.

“Hey, freckles,” Parker says as I scramble off the bed. He eyes me, then the bed, and I sigh when I remember that my lights are also dimmed to help me shut out some of the stimulus, as well as my curtains being drawn. Not totally weird because it is dark out, but I can tell he knows something is up.

“You okay?” he asks. “Are you trying to sleep?” He looks at me, still fully dressed. “We haven’t seen you in a while. The guys are wondering where you are.”

“I just don’t feel really well,” I tell him. There’s a loud shout from down the hall and I can’t help flinching.

Parker raises an eyebrow. “Are we being too loud? Is that why you’re in here?” he looks around, “like this?”

I shake my head, even as it throbs, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver. I feel lightheaded and my skin prickles, like tiny little needles all over my body.

“Hey, you okay?” he says, more worry in his voice now as he steps closer and grips my shoulders. I can’t help whimpering and covering my ears when another shout echoes down the hall.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells me, then bolts out of the room. Shit, I’ve ruined everything. His friends are going to hate me. He’s going to hate me. I’m such a fuck up. I climb back in bed and pull the blankets up over my head as tears slide down my cheeks.

A second later I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Parker standing there with a glass of water. I blink and sit up, wiping my tears away. I take the drink and the Advil he hands me and swallow them down.

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