Page 91 of Roomie Wars Box Set

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And right then, I know there will be a time and place for us.

It wasn’t last year, and it’s not today.

But sometime, in the future, our cosmos will align, and everything will fall into place.

Epilogue

Drew

He said what?

I read the printed email that Gigi had sent me. Male, forty-six, professional molder. Perhaps we had our wires crossed. A molder was someone who molded, right? Molded what?

“So, Karl, when you just said you worked for Adults Delicious Entertainment, you meant…”

“I’m a penis model,” he says, proudly.

I choke on my saliva trying to cover it up with a cough. What the hell does a penis model do? Wrap it up in a bow and walk down a runway. This is uncomfortable, to say the least.

I don’t know why I ask, but my curiosity gets the better of me. “I’m curious. What exactly does a penis model do?”

“They use my penis to create molds for dildos.”

He takes out a box handing it ov

er to me. My instant reaction is to throw it across the room. I really don’t need to see a rubber dick sitting inside a box. I have my own dick—a perfectly sized one, according to the women I’ve slept with.

Karl is dressed in a sky-blue suit and white collared shirt which is buttoned down too low, exposing his tan yet hairy chest. He seems to enjoy his jewelry—a thick gold bracelet sits on his wrist accompanied by an oversized ring on his pinky finger. All he needs is a manicured mustache, and he’d mirror Robin Williams from the movie The Birdcage.

Walking around the room, he admires the ocean view and comments on the beautiful shade of the drapes. Winterberry, according to him. They’re fucking pink. Like the big, giant dildo sitting on my coffee table.

“So, listen, a bunch of other models will come by from time to time to test the products.”

Test the products? On each other?

I’m mentally strangling Gigi. What the hell was she smoking when she sent me this application? Or worse yet, maybe he’s one of her many ex-lovers.

Erase the image.

Erase the image.

“You mean there’s more of you?” I hesitate.

I’m living in a bubble, one that’s void of giant dildos. Who would have thought that there’s a whole army of penis models just frolicking around like it’s no big deal. ‘Professional molder’ is so misleading.

When I told Gigi I was looking for a roommate, I specifically said male. No more living with women and all the drama that comes along with it.

But this?

Is he gay?

I’m not opposed to having a gay roommate, but I don’t exactly want a tribe of them in my living room whipping their dicks out and comparing sizes, hashing out marketing plans for whose dick will have the largest profit.

Next.

I tell him that I’ll call and send him on his merry way, but not without him offering to leave a sample of his product for any lady friend or male who might be interested.

I smile politely and close the door behind him. Gigi is going to get an earful from me when I see her tomorrow for our weekly lunch date. That, and I’ll offload Karl’s parting gift onto her with the promise not to tell me what she does with it.


Tags: Kat T. Masen Romance