I Still Hate You Page 2

  I chuckled. “You don’t?”

  The look she gave me straight up said ‘the audacity’. She smirked as she held up her phone. “No, I never would’ve been on a site like Sextee, but my nosy as hell friend, Claire, signed me up for it. She said I need to get back out there, and well the next thing I know, here I am in Room 405.”

  405? She wasn’t in 405, she was in PH 405. The Penthouses have a different elevator. I started to tell her that, but she kept talking. “And honestly, I’m glad it was you.”

  Her words caught me off guard. “You were?”

  “Familiarity, you know? You were nice, and I figured it’s fine since we’ll never see each other again.” She mumbled the last part.

  Am I an asshole if I just play along? Absolutely. Do I care? Absolutely not. “Take off your dress,” I demanded, her eyes widening.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  She stared at me, not blinking. I knew she wasn’t going to and like the gentleman I was, I would walk her back to her room, tuck her in, and go back to minding my own business. Yet she surprised us both by standing up and turning her back to me. She took a deep breath before moving all of her hair to one shoulder as she looked back at me and bit her lip. “I need help with the zipper,” she whispered before facing the front again.

  Fuck.

  Me.

  I walked up to her, pressing myself against to her back as I inhaled her scent. “Are you sure?”

  Still not facing me, she answered, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

  I suppose that’s fair, but was she thinking clearly? I narrowed my eyes at her. “What are the two branches of physics?”

  She rolled her eyes, putting a hand on her hip. “Stupid question, everyone knows it’s classical and mod—” Before she could even finish that answer my lips crashed into hers. It had been a long time, but I didn’t mind getting reacquainted.

  4

  Perrie

  I snuck out while Ash was still asleep. I was hoping to be back in the hotel room before Barb or Claire woke up, but I was caught red-handed by Claire.

  “I knew it.”

  I jumped, knowing damn well I was caught by nosy-ass Claire. I turned around to see Claire sitting casually at the dining room table with a cup of coffee in her hand. “Knew what?”

  She raised a brow at me before chuckling. “Pretty sure you know the answer to that. So, how was it? And more importantly, who was it?” I ignored her as I took her cup of coffee out of her hands and took a sip. “Fine, don’t tell me, however, I will say,” she leaned in to whisper, “you’re welcome.”

  I made sure to hide my smile. It was nice. Ash was nice and just what I needed. Now I get to leave Vegas and leave him and it behind. I pulled up my phone and uninstalled the ridiculous app, then hit publish on my roommate ad. New beginnings.

  Room Available for Co-Living

  Must pay rent on the 1st of the month.

  NO EXCEPTIONS

  Don’t even think of applying if you have no source of income

  Must be clean (as in more than one shower a week. I can’t believe I have to even add this.)

  Non-smoker (outside in the gates of hell ok.)

  No Drugs

  No touching my shit

  Female Preferred

  Must agree that Grease 2 is better than Grease

  Must not be an asshole

  5

  Perrie

  I stared at the ad for at least an hour as I contemplated if I needed to tweak it again. Here I was, looking for my third roommate in a year.

  It’s not that I’m difficult to live with. I seem to attract people who are crackheads and slobs. Keep your room any way you like it, fine. Turn the common area into your own personal beach that included over a hundred pounds of real sand so you can convince your thirty-seven social media followers how you’re living it up on a beach while everyone else in Chicago is suffering through a blizzard... well, that’s where I draw the line. And that was the second instance it happened.

  It’s been two days and so far, all I’ve responded with to the applicants thus far is

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

  I didn’t even bother replying to the one that said instead of rent she asked if she could pay me in skittles. Newsflash asshole, they all taste the same, they’re just different colors. I sighed; this was hopeless. I was getting ready to find an earlier flight home when my email pinged with another reply to my ad. So far, I didn’t think there was any hope. I had already said no to eight applicants, but at this rate, I couldn’t really be choosy anymore.

  Luckily, it would only be a short-term lease. Two years ago, I bought a 1980 Mercedes 307 D for twenty-five hundred dollars, and I’ve spent that entire time remodeling the van to live in. I was getting it ready to travel as many States as I could, and do the kind of podcasts that I want to do. Unfortunately, it meant working longer hours, since I needed every penny I could get to not only save, but to go toward the van.

  I clicked on another response to my ad, already getting ready to hit delete before reading it.

  Hi, interested in the apartment. Attached is my employment verification and all other details requested.

  Ashley

  I clicked on her files—bartender. Steady income, that’s great. I went through a bunch of items she listed she would be bringing, and she even enclosed a picture of her and her brother, although he was hard to see with his hair covering half his face. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll make a visit or two.

  I emailed her back.

  Ashley,

  Thank you for your inquiry. I would love to take you up on your offer. I plan on being out of town visiting family over the weekend you plan to move in; however, the front office will have your key ready. Once I send them over your application, they’ll confer with you about the lease.

  Thank you.

  I sighed, knowing I could finally relax. Or so I thought.

  6

  Perrie

  Two Weeks Later

  Finally home, I said to myself before shutting the door to my car. It was two in the morning, and I was tired and drained. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed. Trying to be quiet as to not wake my new roommate, I crept to my room, not even bothering turning on the light, and immediately stripped out of my clothes as I stumbled into bed, already falling asleep before I got fully situated.

  The sound of music blasting woke me a few hours later. It took me a moment to realize I was finally back home. I quickly got out of bed and threw some clothes on. I had a roommate I still needed to properly meet. I headed to the kitchen and noted the few things added from the new roommate. Deciding to be a nice and welcoming roommate, I put on a pot of coffee and set to make some toast. I heard their bedroom door open, followed by the scent of soap.

  “Morning, Ashley!” I yelled out, but I doubt she heard me over the music. I sighed as I went to butter my toast. I was on my second bite when I heard a noise behind me and turned around to greet my new roommate. I tried to scream, but the toast got stuck in my throat as I tried to scream and breathe at the same time. They rushed up behind me and grabbed me by the waist and pressed until finally, the toast flew out. I grabbed the nearest object which was a useless butter knife and held it up to defend myself against the overly gorgeous David Gandy’s twin that was now in my kitchen. Not even thinking, I quickly ran to my room and slammed the door, cursing myself as I realized I left my phone in the kitchen. Now, I couldn’t call for help before I got slaughtered by the sexiest serial killer known to man.

  “I’m calling the cops!”

  I heard him chuckle. He actually chuckled. “Isn’t this your phone?”

  Dammit! “Who are you? What do you want? I don’t have anything of value.” I racked my brain. Maybe he wasn’t a serial killer, maybe it was Ashley’s boyfriend. Sure, Ashley lived here too, but I guess I wasn’t planning on seeing her boyfriend anytime soon.

  It was silent f
or a moment before he responded, “It’s me, Ash.” He paused. “Your roommate,” he said, as if that was obvious. “Your new co-living roommate,” he stressed. “You know, the guy you fucked a few weeks ago?”

  Um… what? I slowly opened the door, peering out at him, my sorry excuse for a weapon butter knife with butter still on it, in my hands.

  I looked him up and down.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down to where his private part was in full view.

  Holy shit! Holy fucking shit! He found me. Is he stalking me? My eyes went back to his penis where I found myself lingering too long before looking back to him. It’s not even hard! Okay focus. “What?” He looked at me like I was in the wrong house. I stared at him; mouth open before slowly shaking my head. “No, my roommate’s name is Ashley.”

  “Right, that would be me. The name isn’t for just girls you know.” I stared at him in confusion. He smiled. “I get that a lot.” I watched as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a container of juice. He held the carton up offering me some and I was momentarily stunned that he was offering me my own damn juice. I slowly shook my head as he put the carton to his lips and drank. He leaned against the counter, leg in front of the other, and yet there I was still staring at his penis. “It’s why I have people call me Ash,” he continued, obviously aware I was staring at his junk.

  I finally remembered I had a voice. “I didn’t know you were male. I mean, I didn’t know you were you,” I corrected myself. I stood straight and crossed my arms. “My ad stated females only.”

  “No, your ad stated female preferred.”

  I paused. He was right. Truth be told, I didn’t think anyone read my ad since I kept getting weirdos responding to it, which is why I made the ad sound so ridiculous. “Okay, but still, don’t you think you could’ve told me.”

  “I sent you a picture.”

  I shut my eyes. “I thought you were the girl, being Ashley!”

  “That would be my nosy cousin, Bria. We grew up together, so she’s more of a sister, really.”

  “You were dressed as one of the Butabi brothers from A Night at the Roxbury,” I said more to myself than him.

  “Steve.”

  “What?”

  “I was dressed as Steve Butabi from A Night at the Roxbury.”

  What the hell did that even matter? I looked back up at him and he shrugged as he reached for an apple and took a bite. His eyes never left mine as he took another bite.

  “Of all the places for you to apply, it had to be this one? How did you even know it was mine?”

  He shrugged. “You mentioned it once or twice in between us… well… you know. You were there.” Damn that liquid courage. “Will this somehow become a problem? I hope not, I’ve already signed the lease.”

  I nodded. He was right, even if I didn’t want him here, I had no choice. So, I put on my game face. “It’ll be fine, we’ll make it work.”

  “I would hope so, it was your lack of proper word selection.” I scowled at his words. Yes, I knew all of this was my fault, but he didn’t have to rub my damn nose in it. He took another bite in the silence.

  “Just to make it perfectly clear, we’re roommates. That’s it, nothing more. Roommates. You got that?” He slowly nodded. I scowled. “I’m not having sex with you. We,” I pointed to the both of us, “are not having sex.”

  “I never said we were.”

  Oh. For some reason, I almost felt offended at that statement. I again looked down at his penis which jerked. Is he… is he getting hard? I quickly turned around. “There aren’t really any rules here, but I would prefer clothes.” I glanced at him briefly over my shoulder and noticed he had finished the rest of his apple. He casually threw the core away before grabbing more juice out of the fridge.

  Before he put the carton to his lips, I stopped him. “I’m sorry, could you… you know… use a glass or something?”

  He smiled as he grabbed a cup out of the dish rack. It took him a million years to pour himself a cup before taking a long swallow. “Sure, no problem,” he finally said before winking at me and strolling out of the kitchen. “Catch you later, roomie,” he said on the way out as I was left with the memory of his hard ass.

  7

  Perrie

  I can’t believe my new roommate is Ashley… err... Ash. How the hell did I never realize Ash wasn’t his government name? Probably because you spent your last year in college screwing each other’s brains out instead of studying for physics or actually talking outside of sex. My phone dinged to an incoming text.

  Claire: The inevitable has happened. Act shocked and concerned.

  I took a deep breath and summoned the strength from the one time I played a doorknob in the second grade. It wasn’t a huge role obviously, but I was assigned the doorknob because everyone was getting a part, regardless. And I played the hell out of that role. The best door that ever knobbed, I would even say.

  I prepared myself for the ridiculousness that is Barb as I walked into the breakroom where Barb was crying her heart out. “Maybe you can come to a compromise. It’s his wedding too, you know. It’s okay if he doesn’t agree with everything you pick out.” Claire looked up at me, grateful that I came in. “I have to go but Perrie’s here, I’m sure she has great advice.” I gave Claire a pointed look, my eyes pleading with her to not leave me here alone with Barb, but she did anyway. That bitch.

  I stood by the door, Barb at the table crying. Frank, our boss, started to walk by but stopped when he saw us.

  “What’s going on?” he whispered, not daring to walk into a room with a person crying, let alone a female crying.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “Did you ask her?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “Well, go ask her!”

  I huffed as I gingerly walked in. I looked between Frank and Barb as he urged me on. “Hey, Barb,” I said as I slid in the chair across from her. She looked up, nose red from crying as she reached for another tissue.

  “Hey, Pear.”

  I nodded, not saying more. Frank waved at me to continue. I counted to ten before I finally asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, you don’t want to know.”

  She was right about that, and I started to get up, but the look on Frank’s face told me otherwise. Counting to ten, I tried again. “Sure, I do. Tell me.”

  She sniffed as she wiped her nose again. “I’ve been basically planning this wedding all by myself, and Paul chooses now to tell me that there is too much pink. I told him—”

  I cut her off, “Yeah, you know what? I can’t do this. Just work it out, Barb. Pink is the devil’s second favorite color. Not everything has to be pink, take a moment and listen to him.”

  I walked back to my desk, wondering if that was rude. Of course, it was, but Barb was a whole other level of horse shit you just didn’t want to be bothered with if you stepped in it. So instead of cleaning the horse shit, you just throw the whole damn shoe away.

  “Perrie!” I jumped at the sound of my name. My boss, Frank, looked over at me. “Here are the topics for tonight’s podcast.” I grabbed the papers as he continued talking, “Can you try to be more more tonight?”

  “More?”

  “More. You know, more. More like you actually like your job and less of the whole you’d rather be drinking acetone and setting yourself on fire.” He didn’t even wait for me to answer as he walked away and I looked down at my sheet of paper. It was probably because I did hate my job. It started out great for the most part. People would call in, ask questions regarding life, then we shifted to crime stories which I absolutely loved, and it was great. But the later they put my podcast, the more the questions got… well, more.

  It went from, ‘how can I make a four-course meal using ramen, spam, and enchilada sauce’ to ‘how can I be better at deepthroating.’ The absolute worst part? Frank wanted us to ‘dress’ the part. He felt it made the show more authentic if I was wearing somet
hing revealing to answer sex comments. I hated it, it was revolting, not to mention degrading. My only saving grace was the fact that no one actually saw us, so I guess I sort of went with it.

  I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad if I actually had more recent sexual experiences, other than what the ex-boyfriend called the ‘best three minutes of his life’. Instead, I spend hours on various porn sites trying to learn. I’m not saying anything is wrong with porn sites, but for the love of cheese, they could at least take an acting class or two.

  I was tired, and I was drained but that was nowhere near the amount of shock I had when I opened the door to my apartment and there was Ash sitting comfortably on the couch with a notepad, and an air mattress in the middle of the living room. Oh, and there were two people having sex on it. My mouth dropped open and I stared. It took me gasping before Ash finally looked up at me.

  “We’re almost done.”

  I thickly swallowed as I looked back to the couple on the air mattress, seemingly ignoring me as they continued. I quickly slammed the door as I went out into the hallway. What the hell is going on here? I slid down the wall, my knees to my chest, trying to figure out not only what I just walked in on, but why? Oh, and what the ever-loving fuck?

  At least twenty minutes went by before the door slowly opened and the couple that was having sex in my living room both walked out, looking at each other happily. I suppose them being happy was justified. The girl glanced down at me and waved. “Thank you,” she said before getting into the elevator. I didn’t even know what to say back to her. What the hell was she thanking me for? I let at least another twenty minutes go by before I took a deep breath, stood up and made my way into my apartment.