Then, I say the words I can’t hold back any longer. If she wants a war, then she’ll have one. She appears shocked at my admission, yet as I continue to touch her in ways I’ve never imagined, her sweet moans continue to echo softly in my ear.
I need to get her out of here—maybe the restroom, the cloakroom, somewhere outside, against the fancy bushes, where I can show her what it’s like to be my girlfriend.
Except she’s your roomie.
Your best friend.
The one human being, the one person, who’s seen you at your worst and been there to support you on more occasions than you can remember.
She’s your definition of family.
She’s the nagging conscience that sits on your shoulder influencing you when you make your decisions about women. What is she saying right now? I pull back slightly and look into her eyes. They’re glassy from all the champagne, but somewhere in that glance, that little devil in her is dancing around. She wants to get Jess back. That’s her mission.
Then it hits me again—she still loves him.
She doesn’t care for me in that way.
I’m not good enough for her.
With every move, my blood is thickening, and anger consumes me in ways I’ve never imagined. I’m still holding on to her, only just, and the question that plays on my mind I get off my chest, “What hold does he have over you?”
Her bleak expression, followed by her silence, tells me it’s more than what I think. But she doesn’t say anything and continues to dance, wrapping her arms around my neck. I pull them back off and stop, my body stilling.
I want a fucking answer.
Enough of this bullshit game we’re playing.
“Nothing,” she mumbles, eyes sidelining toward the band.
“It’s not nothing,” I dismiss her lie in frustration. “Yeah, he cheated on you, but how can you not see how great you are?”
The insecurity and need for revenge are now bugging me. This stupid game is slowly becoming some sick and twisted obsession. Zoey deserves better. Why can’t she fucking see that?
“Because… because he had a way of making me feel like I was inadequate.”
“Inadequate?”
“Yes,” she strains. “I was never good enough. I never wore the right things. Never performed the way I should have in the bedroom. I just want to prove him wrong. Like I was the best thing in his life, and he missed out.”
Did I hear right? That piece of low-life scum had the nerve to belittle her in the bedroom.
I clench my jaw, inviting the memory of one night when Jess stayed over. It was in the first couple of weeks they started dating. I remembered the night because it stuck with me. Her words. Her actions. But being the dedicated ‘roomie’ I was, I tried my best to erase the memory.
The moron is over again, but with the door shut, I’m hoping to get some sleep after a big study session. I walk down the hall to use the bathroom when I hear her voice. It’s not loud, the walls just happen to be paper thin, or I’m wide awake from the pills I took to help me study for my exam.
“That feels so good. The way you rub my pussy...”
Oh. Just ignore it, Drew. So, every girl likes that. No biggie, right?
“I’m going to turn around now, spread my ass nice and wide for you. I want you to stick your finger in my ass. Just one.”
Holy shit! Did I hear what I think I heard?
I scramble for the bathroom, shutting the door with panic and jamming my big toe in the process. No, this can’t be happening. You didn’t just overhear that your roomie likes it in the ass. It’s all just a figment of your imagination, your dirty imagination.
The memory floods back, my hard-on intensifying. For a woman to tell you she wants anything in her ass is like winning the lottery. Occasionally, I’ve come across a woman who wanted to experiment with her dirty side. I’d play around with the rim and gently ease my way in with a tube full of lube. But then they would complain, tell me to back the fuck out, and that would be the end of the fantasy. Cockteasers. It’s like staring at the lottery ticket thinking you’ve won, but you’re one number short.
Okay, so any anal activity’s like winning a million bucks in my eyes.