Page 5 of The Best Friend and the Roommate

I got halfway down the stairs before my knees buckled and I fell on my ass. I choked out, "Micah." Before the tears, I did not let myself shed inside the apartment busted free.

"Fuck. Sweetheart. What's wrong? Are you hurt? Are you okay? Where are you… I'm coming to get you." In his frantic questioning, I heard him grab his keys.

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me. "No. No. Theo... Theo…” I couldn't even say the words.

"What the fuck did he do?" He growled.

A minute passed, but I still couldn't bring myself to say it. Micah was not having it and said, "Harper. I swear to fucking God, if you don't tell me what's happening, I'm coming to your apartment and beating the shit out of him."

I wiped away the tears and took a deep breath before responding, "No, Micah." I sighed and continued. "We broke up. Can I crash with you guys until I can find another apartment?"

I couldn’t to tell him why we broke up. Maybe after I drank half a bottle of tequila, I could.

His tone was back to being sweet and caring, just like always when he talked to me. "Babe. Get to the bar. You can stay with us as long as you need to. We'll figure this out. We always do."

A small smile touched my face because he was right. Any obstacle we ever had, we faced together. "Thanks, Micah."

"Always, sweetheart. See you in ten." He cut the call.

After another minute, I stood up, wiped the last tears off my face, dusted off my jean shorts, and headed to The Platoon, Asher's bar.

Chapter Two

Micah

After I hung up with Harper, I drove my fists into the punching bag that hung in the corner of the living room. Our living room was massive, so we turned a section of it into a mini home gym; complete with a treadmill, punching bag, free weights and a bench press.

My roommate Asher Myers and had been best buds since we were about six years old. We used to live next door to one another growing up. We went through elementary, middle and even high school together. But after graduation he enlisted in the army and I went to college for business.

When Asher and I were younger, he would always stay over my house. His home life wasn’t the greatest and he told on more than one occasion he wanted to get as far away from his parents as possible.

Asher received the purple heart and an honorable discharge from the army almost a year ago. His entire unit was either injured or killed overseas. He was in pretty bad shape when he came home and he didn't like to talk about what happened. I knew him well enough not to pressure him. Whatever happened over there was heavy; sometimes I heard him screaming in his sleep.

When he came home, he was in a terrible place, not just physically but mentally as well. I didn't hesitate to suggest we get a place together like we always talked about. Honestly, Asher was like the brother I never had.

When we found this building, we knew immediately it would be perfect. Under our apartment were two commercial size spaces. On the left was my space, Foster’s Photography & Studio. The space was massive and I was able to put up fake walls. I turned the front of the area into a gallery for up-and-coming photographers and artists. I hosted exhibits a couple times a month showcasing their pieces. The backspace had four sections; the first was a living room setup for family style photos. The second was a setup for newborn and sibling photos. The third was my storage room that held all my backdrops and props. And the last space was my newest addition, a bedroom setup for boudoir shoots.

The other commercial space we turned into Asher's Bar, The Platoon Bar and Grill. When he first arrived home, he was a mess and needed direction. He wanted a place for all military personnel to come and feel comfortable. Everyone loved to drink, so a bar was perfect.They also host meetings a couple times a month for war vets to come and talk with one another. Asher really struggled adjusting to civilian life and having someone to talk with who went through something similar really helped his transition.

There's access to our apartment in the back of the building. Our apartment was huge being that it was on the upper floor of both commercial spaces. A three-bedroom, two-bathroom, with an open concept space for the living room, dining and kitchen.

Harper wouldn’t need to find another place to live. We had an extra bedroom we didn't use. It housed stuff from her old apartment before she moved in with that fuck-wit Theo.

Honestly, I was happy they broke up. I always disliked that guy, and it wasn't because I'd been in love with Harper since the moment I met her ten fucking years ago. No, something never sat right with me about their relationship.

She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Her silky copper hair fell in waves and sat at her shoulders. It always looked perfect, even when she rolled out of bed. Her emerald green eyes pierced your soul when she looked at you. And her fucking body. God, I got half hard every time I fucking saw her. She was curvy in all the right places with full breasts, which were the perfect handful for my large hands. I might had accidentally copped a feel back in college.

She was self-conscious about her curves from time to time, but I fucking loved them. I wanted her to sit on my face so I could grip that delicious ass of hers and drown in her juices as I tongue fucked her. I wanted her to ride my dick so I could watch her luscious tits bounce as I pounded into her and roll her perky nipples between my fingers.

She was a total knockout, kind, caring and probably one of the funniest people I'd ever met. We'd been through so much together and my love for her grew over the years. But she never showed any interest in me and back then I was too much of a chicken shit to ask her out.

A few years ago, our friendship took a huge flirtatious turn. Harper gave me all the signs I'd been looking for. When I finally pulled my head out of my ass and was going to bite the bullet, she started talking about this super cute customer that had been coming into her bakery every day. Fucking Theo.

Their relationship grew and they eventually moved in together. I figured I had lost my chance. We're both twenty-eight and don't date for fun anymore; we date to find the person we want to spend the rest of our lives with. The problem was I wanted that person to be her.

But now they weren’t together anymore, so maybe the universe was giving me one last chance to make my move. We had been friends long enough, if she shot me down, we could laugh about it down the line and move on. It would suck, but I'd be okay being friends with her for the rest of our lives. I just needed to know if there was a shot with something more because I couldn't take the torture anymore. Hopefully one way or another, it would help alleviate the ache in my chest.

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