Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Mean? How so?”
“Because I wanted to make you uncomfortable. And I failed. So now I feel ridiculous and small and ashamed. And you’re still you—everyone’s pal, including the guy I sort of have a crush on. So excuse my candor, and if possible, let me enjoy my mental collapse in peace. Thank you very much.”
I poured too much liquid soap on the sponge and proceeded to clean the hell out of the baba ganoush bowl. My shoulders tensed, and my jaw hurt. I wished he’d leave so I could properly fall apart, but no…Gus picked up the dish towel I’d thrown on the counter and dried the bowl. He put it away and reached for the next dish.
We worked in silence. I’d said more than enough, and since I couldn’t physically shove his gigantic butt out of the kitchen, I was stuck with him.
Buzz buzz
Gus glanced at his incoming message and slipped his cell into his pocket.
“Sounds like the whole campus is at The Tavern tonight,” he commented as if I hadn’t spent the past ten minutes oversharing and embarrassing us both.
“You should go.” My voice was rough with pent-up emotion.
“Nah. Not tonight. I’d rather fix this.”
I handed him the last dish and sighed. “I don’t think personality transplants are a thing, and unfortunately, ours aren’t compatible. It happens. Let’s agree to be respectful for the remainder of my lease and call it a day.”
“Fuck that. I know an apology won’t cut it. You’re tired of me, and nothing I say will change that. Talk is cheap, right? It’s all about action.” He paced to the fridge and crossed his arms. “So here’s what I’m gonna do.”
“Gus…no.” I rolled my eyes and rubbed them. The urge to sob like a baby had passed, but I still wanted to throttle him. “This is not a game, and—”
“Wrong. It’s the roommate game.”
“No, no, no.”
“Trust me. This will be good. We’re gonna get to know each other for real. Like a guessing game, but better. See, when you don’t know someone, you’re supposed to ask questions, break the ice. I’ve been doing it badly for five months, and I want a chance to fix it. Get it right, ya know?” He looked nervous for a beat before continuing in a rush. “You’re sick of me and my shit and I don’t blame you, so maybe this is a one-sided game for now. Or always. That’s okay. First up, I’m gonna go out on a limb, and say you don’t like messes, empty fridges, and loud parties. Or maybe just not too many loud parties in a row. How am I doing so far?”
“Good, but—”
“Cool, I can fix those things. As for Eli…” He blew a strand of hair from his forehead and narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t know you had a crush on him. I swear I wouldn’t have flirted…not even a little. I’m not that guy.”
“I believe you. Let’s just—”
“So I’ll be your wingman,” Gus pronounced.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Eli is a good-looking, confident dude and my take is that the finger action means he’s into you. But if he’s leaving you in pinky land, you gotta make some sexy moves and let him know you’re serious about gettin’ down.”
I widened my gaze. “Lovely offer, but hard pass. And please don’t say finger action again.”
Gus snickered like a loon. “I know what I’m talking about. I betcha he’s not sure what you’re selling.”
“What I’m…selling? Are you high?”
“No, and it’s been a long fucking week,” he replied, almost inaudibly.
“Well, I’m not a ho, and I’m not selling—”
“Untwist those panties, Rafester. Everyone is selling something, and if they tell you they aren’t, they’re lying. Let me give you an example. Say you meet a guy at a bar, and you hit it off. Ka-pow!” Gus made a fireworks gesture. “It’s a cosmic connection. Physical attraction, mental kismet, the whole nine yards. You’re sure you’ve met your match. But it can go a few different ways. A, you find a bathroom stall and get it out of your system within an hour.”
I hung my head in dismay. “Oh, my God.”
“B, you go directly to his place and fuck like bunnies,” he continued, following me into the family room. Unsurprisingly, Gus couldn’t take a hint. “Maybe you exchange numbers, maybe you don’t. C, you exchange numbers at the bar, he calls you. A week later, you go on a real date. Sex or no sex…who knows? It’s the connection that matters. It gets stronger every time you see each other, and you finally clue in that this is your person. Break it down like this…hot, medium, or slow and smooth.”
I fluffed a throw pillow to give my hands something to do. This entire exchange was weird. Very weird.
“This isn’t about sex.”
“Everything leads there anyway, so why not?”
I threw the pillow at Gus’s head, grumbling as he caught it and waggled his brows.