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My Roommate's Girl by Julianna Keyes (28)

34

Aidan

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I stumble out of my room around noon the next day. I snuck out of Aster’s building at four a.m., hoping to avoid not just her residents but also Jerry. There’s no way for him to know I’d just crawled out of his ex-girlfriend’s bed, but I’d rather he not ponder the question in any context. And while my feelings about all the sex we had yesterday are predominantly positive, I still feel a bit...guilty about how things came to be.

Jerry’s standing at the sink when I enter the kitchen, rubbing my blurry eyes.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I mutter, pouring a glass of orange juice and downing it in two swallows. I pour another one. Aster and I didn’t get much sleep last night and I’m in desperate need of refueling.

“Want some aspirin?”

“Ah, no. I’ll be okay.” I grab a couple of frozen waffles from the freezer and stick them in the toaster, then plop a frying pan on the stove and turn on the heat, adding three eggs when it’s hot. There are bananas on the counter, so I eat one while I wait for everything to cook.

A rhythmic clicking sound has me paying closer attention to Jerry, and I see he’s trying to use a flint to start a fire in the sink.

“What, uh, what are you doing?” I ask, flipping over the eggs. 

“Practicing my survival skills,” he replies, blowing on a tiny spark that quickly peters out.

“You’re still doing that? The volunteer stuff?”

“Of course. It’s been a real learning experience.”

“You can’t learn to bring matches?”

He hits the flint again. “It’s a progression. The first few trips we stay in a cabin and work on basic outdoor survival skills. Then we move to the real outdoors, using tents, matches, fishing rods. Then we start working with less – flint, etcetera. It’s about getting back to basics.”

A spark flies up, lands on his polo shirt, and promptly burns a tiny hole through the cotton.

“Dammit,” he mumbles, patting it out with his hand, then sighing. “Okay, I admit, the learning curve has been steep. I miss the cabin. A lot. You got the sense of being out in the wilderness, alone, uninterrupted, but you didn’t actually have to be in the wilderness. That might be more my style.”

The only word I’m hearing right now is uninterrupted.

Aster and I worked our way through a generous helping of condoms yesterday—and today—but there were non-stop visitors at all hours of the day and night, interrupting the very dirty proceedings.

“Where is this cabin?” I ask, sliding the fried eggs onto a plate, then adding the waffles and a squeeze of maple syrup. “Nearby?”

“About an hour drive,” he says, naming a popular state park. “Maybe a bit more. Once you leave town you travel north on the highway until...”

He chats merrily as he fails to start a fire, and I eat and make a mental note of the directions. State park. Dirt road. Large rock. Forked tree. Another large rock. Drive straight for three hundred yards.

Empty cabin.

* * *

“What?” Aster says the next day once I’ve pitched her the idea.

She’d met me at the library after her class, and now that my shift has ended we’re walking back to her place, presumably to continue our “interview.” We’re taking the long way around, navigating a quiet, tree-lined pathway that’s more popular with cyclists and joggers than students going to and from class. It’s also more private.

“What’s not to understand?” I say. “We can’t go to my place because of Jerry, and your place gets too many visitors. This way we can...” I trail off when I see the expression on her face. I know she enjoyed the other night as much as I did, but maybe she’s not liking the idea that I might only want to spend time with her to bang. I mean, that was my initial goal when I started this whole ball rolling back in January, but it’s different now. I want the sex and I want more.

I clear my throat. “...finish the interview without the interruptions.”

She arches a brow. “The interview?”

“Yes, Aster. Why, what were you thinking?” I gasp. “Were you thinking about sex? God, you’re obsessed!”

She laughs. “Shut up.”

“I knew you’d become addicted. This is my fault. I’m too good.”

She laughs harder. “Seriously. Shut up. There’s no way to be alone in the woods if your giant ego’s there. Plus we have exams. I need to study. Promise and potential and blah blah blah.”

“Well, if you can keep your hands off me for a minute, we can study at the cabin. At least, I can study. I’ll exhaust you sexually, then get some reading done when you’re passed out.”

“You’ve really thought this through.”

I check that we’re alone, then back her into a tree. “I haven’t thought about a whole lot else,” I say, dipping my head.

She presses onto her toes and kisses me back, curling her fingers into the neck of my shirt and holding on. I step into her even more, aligning our bodies, grateful that the warmer weather means thinner clothing, which means I can feel more of her.

“Have you ever done it outside?” I mumble against the soft skin beneath her ear. “Because we can do it right here and—”

Ding! Ding! “Get a room!” a jerk on a bike shouts as he whistles past, bell ringing righteously.

Aster snickers as I curse.

“I think we’ll have to discuss your...potential...back in my room,” she says, pushing away from the tree and resuming the walk.

I drag my hands through my hair. “I hate that guy.”

“Yeah, he’s the worst.”

“But seriously,” I say, snagging her hand. “Have you ever?”

“Ever what?”

“Done it outside?”

“Is that why you want to go to the cabin?”

“No, I just want to talk about sex.”

“Oh, shoot!” she exclaims, darting behind a tree near the end of the path. Her residence is about twenty yards away across a short field, and Missy is pacing in front of the doors of the building, typing something into her phone.

I join Aster behind the tree. “Why is Missy here?”

She groans. “Because we have plans.”

“What? You and Missy?”

“Yes. We’re...friends.”

“Even though she’s banging your ex?”

“I’m banging his roommate!”

“That’s different. It’s not gross. Also, what’s this about you two being friends?”

“It just happened,” she mutters, peering past the tree. “She’s very persistent.”

“I know. She’s been trying to fuck me for three years.”

“You have to leave.”

“Well, now that I’ve seen Missy, I want to leave,” I say tersely. “But it’s awfully convenient that my worst nightmare spends her nights wailing away on the other side of the wall from my bed, isn’t it?”

Aster looks exceptionally guilty. “No?”

“Aster, did you introduce Missy to Jerry?”

“Yes, but not on purpose,” she says quickly. “We just bumped into him.”

“Did you tell her he cheated on you? With a prostitute?”

“Yes!”

“And that didn’t scare her away?”

“I mean...you kind of deserve it, Aidan.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“I still really hated you then, and I know you’re afraid of Missy—”

“Afraid is a strong word—”

“So I told her he’d learned his lesson from the break up and probably wouldn’t do it again.”

“I sleep three hours a night because of her!”

“Well—”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Are you really mad?”

I’m about to assure her that I am indeed furious, then consider my priorities and redirect my efforts accordingly. “I guess that depends...” I curl a finger into the collar of her shirt and pull her close. “Are you coming to the cabin or not?”

She arches a brow, not at all oblivious to my intentions, and failing to lose sight of her own. “Do you promise to finish the interview when we’re there?”

I try to be angry, but can’t muster up the required righteousness. Hooking up Missy and Jerry is a brilliantly devious plan, and I’m kind of proud of Aster for coming up with it. Plus, if she’s agreeing to come to the cabin, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.

“Yeah,” I say, leaning in to kiss her again. “Come to the cabin and I promise to give you whatever you want.”

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