It’s about three months ago that I bought this fantastic, albeit rundown apartment near the beach. It’s a two-bedroom, decent-size living area with a dining room and a massive functional kitchen. My favorite area is the huge balcony which overlooks the ocean. With my hectic schedule at the hospital, I haven’t decorated or changed anything. The previous owner is one of Gigi’s friends, a retired lady who let the place go and needed to move to a more manageable unit. She’s the reason behind the ‘winterberry’ drapes and doilies scattered everywhere you turn.
For now, it will do. Finding a roommate will ease the burden of paying the mortgage with some extra change to start fixing up the place. Many of dad’s friends suggested I sell his place to renovate here, but I can’t do it. I want to keep his memory alive, and when I need a break or some downtime with Betty, I’ll stay there for a couple of days.
Heading to the kitchen and grabbing myself a beer, I hear a knock on the door. It’s the next applicant. Shit. I quickly look at the paper searching for his name. It’s nowhere to be found. A bad omen. Stupidity is not something I look for in a roommate.
“So, I hear you have a room available?”
I hear her voice, a sound that’s forever ingrained in my memory. It’s like a thousand butterflies fluttering around you in an empty room. Oh, wait, inside my stomach. That’s how she makes me feel. I haven’t even laid eyes on her, yet my excitement is paralyzing my ability to respond to her.
“Zoey, what are you doing here?”
Her back is facing me, and closing the door behind her, she finally turns around.
“I hear you have a room available?”
And there she is.
Standing in front of me.
No longer a figment of my imagination.
She’s more beautiful than I remember. Matured, yet still has her cute cheeky smile that lights up her entire face. She’s wearing a dress, strapless, that sits just above her knees. It’s very summery with little pineapples all over it. Pineapples. I smile at the thought. I notice her hair. It’s cut short sitting just above her shoulders.
“I do have a room available but…” I trail off, mesmerized by how radiant she looks. Then, I spot it. The gold pineapple pendant that sits on her delicate pale skin. She still has it.
“Well, aren’t you going to interview me?” she asks, trying her best to keep a straight face.
I play along with whatever game she’s playing and trying to keep a straight face.
She walks further into the room and stops at the coffee table. Arching her brow with a slight scowl, she lifts the box that Karl left behind. “Interesting choice of coffee table decoration.”
“Oh, it’s not mine,” I quickly say. “The guy who just left is a penis model. It’s bizarre, I know.”
The green in her eyes brightens, twinkling with amusement. “I’m glad it’s not yours, but then again, that’s kind of kinky. Huh, interesting profession.”
I want to kiss that smirk off her face. Tell her to stop being a smartass and get over here so I can show her what a real dick looks like not some rubber bullshit. But that would be rude of me. Just because I haven’t fucked anyone since the day she left doesn’t mean I should be so brazen. Stop thinking with your blue balls.
“So, are you going to ask me to sit down?”
“Yes.” I smile, extending my hand toward the couch.
“Where’s your interviewing etiquette? It’s almost like you’ve never had a roommate before,” she deadpans.
“I had a roomie once,” I play along. “You left your name off the form.”
“Did I?” she says plainly. “Zoey. Zoey Richards. And you?”
I take a seat beside her keeping the distance to avoid my blue balls mauling her in the heat of the moment. “Drew. Drew Baldwin. Some like to call me Dr. Drew.”
“Like Alec, Stephen, Daniel, and what’s the one that no one remembers?”
“Billy. And no, I’m not related.”
Bowing her head and hiding her mischievous smirk, she fiddles with the hem of her dress before moving her attention back to me. “So, you’re a doctor?”
“Training to be a surgeon. I specialize in cardiology.”
“The heart. An interesting choice.”