Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers, Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2), page 30
He shakes his head. “No. I wanna just watch TV and snuggle with you. Is that all right?”
I can’t say no, not with that look in his eyes. So I don’t.
I snuggle in. “I happen to be an excellent snuggler.”
“Yes you are. Capuchin monkeys tend to have that quality.”
“What are we watching?”
His body relaxes and it relaxes so much that I push all my million questions out of my head. Or I try to.
A few minutes later, he pulls me on top of him and I’m thinking it’s about to get physical, sexual, but it doesn’t.
I put my cheek to his chest on the couch while we watch a couple episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Just into the third episode, I have to go to the bathroom, so I climb off of him and when I’m back, I see he’s dosing, so I put the pizza box into the fridge and I’m about to turn the TV off and go to bed, but as I lean over to grab the remote from the coffee table, he grabs my wrist.
“What’re ya doin?”
“I was gonna turn it off since you’re sleeping.”
“You done watching or you wanna watch some more?” he asks.
“I could watch some more.”
“Then come here,” he tugs and I’m back on top of him, both his arms wrapped around me.
“Who’s the Capuchin now?” I ask.
He squeezes in response.
We fall asleep like that and I don’t wake up until Saturday morning when he’s carefully trying to twirl me toward the back of the couch so he can get up.
I open my eyes as I’m put on my side, my back against the back of the sofa and he leans over and kisses my forehead before he disappears down the hall and I hear the bathroom door close.
I sit up, feeling well-rested. Strangely.
I slept on top of him all night.
He comes back a few minutes later and he’s making coffee, still in those trackpants, his hair now tamed, his face still scruffy, and I’m in last night’s clothes, which shouldn’t have been comfortable to sleep in (jeans and a button-down shirt), so I go straight to the bathroom, do what I need to do, and then I get into the shower.
A moment later, I’m no longer alone. Austin’s climbing in.
I turn to face him, surprised. Shy.
“Is it okay I’m in here with you?” he asks, looking into my eyes.
I nod, biting my lip as I reach for my shampoo.
It’s a tight fit in here, being a regular bathtub/shower combination, not like the massive standalone shower in the master bathroom.
He spins my body wash on the shelf and glances at the label.
“Guess I’m gonna smell like pink lemon and mandarin oranges today.”
I grin as I lather my hair up and then I rise up on the balls of my feet with my shampoo up high. I pour a glug onto his head. “And strawberries and cream.”
He steps forward, dips his hair under the shower stream, then steps back and quickly lathers it up before he reaches for my exfoliating bodywash, squirts some on his hand and lathers up his chest while watching me. I’m watching him while I work my hair into a lather.
“Can I have some of that?” I ask.
Instead of passing me the bodywash, he squirts more on his hand and then those hands are reaching for my boobs.
My back goes against the wall as I succumb to the way that feels, so he moves under the stream. I push the shampoo back so it doesn’t go in my eyes and watch as he rubs my boobs, getting them all bubbly before his hands move down my ribcage all the way to my hips. They travel back up to my armpits and then slide up over my shoulders leaving a trail of slippery and gritty bubbles everywhere. He finishes soaping me up from shoulders to wrists before spinning me around so that I’m facing the wall. My head rolls back as he lathers my back, my rear end, then I hear another glug as he gets more bodywash and then does down to my ankles. I squeeze excess shampoo bubbles backwards again and then I’m pulled against his soapy body, putting me under the shower stream, too, so I work at rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. I’m focused on that when I feel Austin’s hand slide across my hip and then he’s cupping me between the legs.
“Can’t forget this spot,” he huskily says with his mouth behind my ear.
I feel his erection bounce against my lower back as I continue to squeeze my shampoo out. His fingers work over my clit and slide inside me. They glide in and out slowly, over the clit, inside, then press inside on my g-spot, and then reverse up to my clit again. He does this over and over until my knees buckle and I gasp out a climax before I twist around to sink into him, putting my cheek against his chest and sighing, holding on so I don’t fall down.
“Let’s go,” he whispers and then kisses the top of my head and a minute later, we’re in my bed, wet, and all over one another.
The box of condoms sits on my nightstand, so he reaches for one, gloves up, and then he’s lifting my legs up over his shoulders as he slides inside.
Holy shit. I’ve never done this position before. I like it. This might be my new favorite.
But wait… it’s also broad daylight and my blinds are half open. I’m self-conscious about being so visible, but he looks at me like he loves what he sees.
Or likes. Not love.
Likes.
He said his life is complicated right now. I can’t think with the L-word unless it’s just the like word.
“You okay?” he asks, looking concerned.
“Mm hm, why?”
“You look upset.”
He’s still inside me, though now he’s still.
“I’m good,” I fib, opening my legs so I can pull them down and wrap them around his waist. I pull him closer so he’s not so closely scrutinizing my expression.
The distraction works and now he’s kissing me, touching my breasts, making sexy sounds as he fucks me with long, deep strokes.
It feels good, great actually, so I close my eyes and try to get lost in this.
“Want to make you come again, Jada,” he whispers, “Be my good girl - let go.”
He’s pretty intuitive. But I’m not sure I can let go again right now after having a big orgasm a minute ago.
His good girl, though? I can at least try.
“Okay,” I whisper and keep my eyes closed as I do my best to blank my mind and just absorb the sensations.
A minute later, I’m flipped to my belly and he lifts my hips so that I’m on my knees. He slams back in and I cry out.
“Holy shit.”
His hand goes between my legs and he’s working his fingers between my legs while going at me doggie style. So… I think this is my new favorite position.
The sound of skin slapping skin, the feel of his cock slamming inside over and over, the sounds of Austin’s breathing as he covers my back with his body plus the feel of his hand toying with my clit while I stare at his other hand bracing himself on the headboard - I explode around him and fall to my belly, whimpering shamelessly into the pillow.
He groans into the back of my neck at the same time as he finishes, too.
He slaps my ass then. “I’m making breakfast,” he tells me. “Any requests?”
This is a surprise.
“Anything,” I whisper. “Everything. I’m starved.”
“Everything breakfast coming up.” He kisses the back of my shoulder and crawls backwards off me.
I stay on my stomach and just process for a few minutes until I smell bacon cooking.
I get up, get dressed in a pretty pink top with a pair of black skinny jeans, and then brush my hair before I join him.
He’s wearing basketball shorts and nothing else. And they sit low on his sexy hips. He’s got tongs in his hand and there’s bacon frying. He smiles then starts twirling a whisk in a glass bowl of batter. He’s whipping up some batter.
“Pancakes?” I ask.
“Bacon pancakes,” he says.
“Spider pancakes? Bleck.”
He shakes his head with confusion. “Spider pancakes?”
“Gramma was in that.” I screw up my face.
“It’s been washed,” he rolls his eyes. “Not spider pancakes. Bacon pancakes.”
“Bacon and pancakes? Yum.”
“Nope. Not bacon and pancakes, bacon pancakes. You’ll see. Trust me. I’m gonna rock your breakfast world in a few minutes.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
Man, he’s gorgeous. And I love how playful and happy he seems right now.
He says his life is complicated, but he’s not pulling away from me. In fact, it’s like he’s doing the opposite and maybe it’s because I’m not complicating it further right now by asking him a million questions. I decide not to worry about anything right now, just to enjoy breakfast with Austin.
***
“These are incredible,” I say, moaning. “This everything breakfast is everything. Every. Thing.”
Austin’s bacon pancakes are literally bacon pancakes. He cooked bacon and then dipped it in pancake batter before frying again and the result is a long, skinny pancake with bacon in the middle.
“This is the best invention, ever,” I say before I dunk a bacon pancake in the puddle of maple syrup on my plate and take another bite.
He beams a smile at me.
He’s also made us some scrambled eggs and they’re fluffy and delicious. And there’s even toast.
“So, you can cook,” I say.
“I can make breakfast, blend a bad-ass smoothie, and I can grill. Anything else it’ll be hit or miss.”
I chuckle and sip my coffee.
He takes a bite of toast and my face burns with embarrassment as I remember the second chapter and the burnt toast scene. I couldn’t believe I wrote it when I first read it back to myself and now I can’t believe that he’s actually read it, too.
“What’s on your schedule today?” he asks.
“I’m supposed to visit my brother this afternoon, but after that, not a thing.”
“You wanna go to a movie tonight?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I say, smiling.
He returns the smile before he takes a bite of scrambled eggs, but then his phone rings from the other side of the counter.
As he slides it over I catch sight of the screen.
Sienna Greer Calling
Eeks.
The mystery redheaded woman from Austin’s office and that used to be in Aiden’s photo albums. After what that Taylor woman said at the restaurant last night, now she has a name. And maybe a baby Austin in her belly?
“What?” he answers angrily, heading down. I hear his door close.
I stuff one more bacon pancake in my mouth before I tackle the dishes, but then there’s shouting coming from down the hall.
When I turn the tap off, I hear “…and your fucking head games!”
I don’t want to eavesdrop, so I turn the water back on.
If he wants to talk to me, he’ll talk to me.
A few minutes later, he’s back with me.
“Sorry to leave you with the mess,” he says.
“That’s okay, I’m paid to clean up your mess and you’re thankfully not a messy person.”
“It’s the weekend, you don’t have to work on the weekend,” he clips with impatience.
“It doesn’t feel like work. It feels like just helping - cleaning up after a delicious breakfast I didn’t have to cook,” I say with a smile.
He thrusts his hand through the flop of hair falling into his eyes and shakes his head.
“You okay?” I ask.
He comes up behind me and snakes his arms around my waist, burying his nose in my hair.
“Wanna talk?” I ask. “I saw the name on the screen and I’m guessing I know who she is now after what happened last night.”
“No,” he whispers, “Is that okay?”
I nod, but my chest hurts a little.
My reward is him squeezing me tighter.
“What movie do you wanna see tonight?” I ask, turning the tap off and drying my hands on a tea towel. He’s still holding me from behind.
“Something with blood. And murder,” he grumbles into the top of my head.
I laugh.
He turns me to face him, then takes my face into his hands. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Jada Sweetheart.”
I smile. And the pain in my chest evaporates, because as long as he looks at me like this, like I send his troubles away, I’m going to do my best to be okay with not talking about whatever had him shouting on the phone with her. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sir Groucho.”
“What time are you going to see your brother?” he asks.
“I should go soon.”
“All right. I’m gonna go for a run. And I’ll see you back here later. We’ll catch a movie, go for burgers, maybe?”
I nod. “That sounds great.”
He kisses me again and then he disappears into his bedroom.
By the time I’m ready to go, he’s already gone.
***
Shane is despondent. He holds the phone, but he says very little, answers me with shrugs or one-word answers. When I tried to talk positively about the fact that he might spend time in a hospital instead of a jail, getting better, he stares at the table.
“Are you not feeling well?” I try.
“I’m fine,” he says quietly.
After ten minutes, he tells me I should get going and then he kisses his fingertips and touches the glass.
He didn’t ask about me. He didn’t ask anything. He looked like he had trouble staying awake. He’s pale and he’s lost more weight.
I speak to the guard before I go, saying I’m concerned about him. He can’t help me but says he’ll have someone phone me.
I leave with a heavy heart and get back to an empty condo at five o’clock.
I call Shane’s lawyer to express concerns, but there’s no answer, not surprising for a Saturday. I look him up online and write an email with a list of my concerns about Shane, asking for an urgent callback.
And then I sit at the kitchen island and fiddle with another new story, a romantic comedy with lots of sex, while I wait. And wait some more.
***
I text Austin at seven thirty.
Are we still on for dinner and the movies?
He doesn’t answer.
I hear him come in after midnight. I’m in bed, though not sleeping. I don’t come out. Instead I wait. He doesn’t come to my room. I go to the bathroom and then linger in the kitchen making a little bit of noise so he’ll know I’m awake.
He doesn’t come out of his room.
And I’m not sure why.
42
Austin
I’m on my way out the door for a run at seven o’clock Sunday morning and I run into Jada in the hall.
She looks startled. And she stops and stares, those big eyes on me wanting an explanation.
“Sorry about last night,” I say quickly. “I ran into an old friend and went for a drink and lost track of time.”
“I texted.”
“My phone died.” I shrug. “Goin’ for a run. See ya later.” I put my earbuds in and head out.
Like an asshole.
Because that’s what I feel like. And that’s what I’m gonna have to be. Because I’m not capable of anything right now but hurting her and might as well sabotage myself and get it over with now before I’m tempted to get any deeper.
I head past the asshole at the desk who wants Jada, not looking at him or saying anything. Why is he always here? Does this guy ever take time off?
I head to the park.
I didn’t run into an old friend. I was out for my run, thinking too much, and I wound up renting a car. I visited Suki, the woman who raised me and my siblings.
Suki lives a few hours from here with her sister. She moved here when she retired, the same year I came here for college. She’s a seventy-year-old woman with no children of her own, but plenty of nieces and nephews as well as a long resume of raising rich brats. She raised me and my siblings and then she moved here when she retired, which happened the year I moved here, starting college. I know she wanted to visit her sister, she said she’d stay for a few months and test it out, but she wound up staying permanently.
I know it didn’t hurt being closer to me thinking of me as her final ‘baby’ before retirement. That year I was here, just sixteen-seventeen years old, I made the three hour drive every other weekend. She didn’t like Taylor, who came twice and then stopped coming because she told me Suki didn’t like her and tried to stop me from going.
Suki happens to be an excellent judge of character.
I visited her yesterday, feeling like I didn’t get enough time with her at Aiden’s wedding. And spending time with her put a lot into perspective for me.
“Austin, love of my life, it’s not like you to be so sour, so angry.”
I had just told her everything that’d happened with Sienna.
I also told her I was getting in deep with another girl, but that I wasn’t sure it was the right move.
“You shouldn’t tug someone along by their heart if you’ve got too much baggage to give them what they deserve, Austin. You don’t need me telling you this.”
“You’re right. I don’t think I have the capacity for a relationship right now. Anything with her is just gonna be me taking and not giving back. I don’t want to talk about my problems, don’t want to lay them on her, and I’m just gonna wind up hurting her.”
“I can’t see you being like that!” She frowned at me. “Have you talked to her? It might help.”
“You wouldn’t have recognized me how I was with her when I first got to New York. Like my mother, but male.”
“Don’t speak such nonsense!”
“It’s true.” I put my hand to my heart.
“Austin Mitchell Carmichael! Don’t make me box those ears!”
“I know. I was an ass … a jerk.” Suki would box my ears for cussing even.
She kissed her teeth and poured me more tea. “Don’t get into anything serious until you know what you’re doing about that Greer girl. I don’t like to talk bad about people, Austin, but that Sienna was not so sweet when people would turn their backs. I saw plenty that made me grind my teeth when that girl was hangin’ round the house with Aiden.”
“What do you think of Carly?” I asked.
