With Every Heartbeat

“Just stop.” I held up a hand, getting upset. “No one is perfect. I certainly wouldn’t be your roommate if I couldn’t handle a few flaws. Cora isn’t required to like football, and she’s allowed to have her privacy. She accepts me as I am, and that is something I thought I’d never find.”



Ten lifted an eyebrow. “Accepts you?” he repeated slowly. “What the hell? You’re not some freak show just wandering around, waiting for some benevolent soul to finally take you in.”



“You know what I mean.” I glanced away, feeling stupid. “I’m not normal. I’m not like...you.”



Unable to hide his shock, Ten pulled back and shook his head. “Why the fuck would you want to be like me? Hell, I don’t even want to be like me half the time. And I am most definitely not normal.”



“But you’re...you...” Feeling my stutter approach, I gritted my teeth, hating all my ineptitudes. “You can talk to people,” I finally pushed out.



My roommate snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, what a talent. I can piss off pretty much everyone I talk to, too.”



But I just stared at him, because to me...being able to socialize was a talent.



With a sigh, he slumped his shoulders. “Okay, fine. You’re quiet. You’re introverted. You’re too nice to be rude to anyone. You open yourself up and are willing to trust more than just about anyone I know. Being as sensitive as you are means you have a bigger heart. And if I ever see you try to change and harden that heart of yours, I’m going to throat punch you. Don’t be ashamed of being a big, soft teddy bear, Ham. The world needs more people like you, otherwise it’d just go to shit. Now...” He stepped back and spread his hands. “Can we go pick up our dates, or do you want to hold hands, sing a couple rounds of “Kumbaya,” and dig into our feelings some more?”



I frowned and shook my head. “You’re the one who started this conversation.”



“Yeah, well...I must be on crack. Let’s go already.”



He headed for the door and I reluctantly followed.



We didn’t talk on the ride over. I was afraid to say much of anything else. I think Ten was in the mood to set me over the edge for some reason, because he started up again as soon as we parked in Chateau Rivera’s parking garage.



“So...if Blondie looks really good, you’re not going to kill me if I go for a goodnight kiss, are you? I won’t even use tongue. Okay, maybe a little tongue.”



I sent him a dry look and parked the truck. He snickered and stepped out, leaving me to follow. “Didn’t think so.”



I wanted to smart back something like, “I thought you wanted to keep her preserved for me,” but that would make it sound like I actually wanted him to, when...okay, the thought of Zoey dating someone—anyone—didn’t sit well with me. Just thinking about someone else pressing his mouth to hers—



Crap, I forgot where I was going with this line of thinking. Ten had scattered my brain with that confusing heart-to-heart he’d pushed on me before coming here. He was making me think about Zoey again.



I kind of hated him right now.



“Think she’ll be wearing a dress or pants?” Ten asked when we stepped into the elevator.



I glanced over at him. “Cora?”



He sniffed and glowered back. “My date, asshole. Why would I care what yours is wearing?” Then he grinned to himself and looked up at the number as we rose to the eighth floor. “I bet Cora bullied her into a skirt. Hopefully a short skirt. Blondie does have some nice legs.”



I rolled my jaw and cracked my knuckles, commanding myself not to respond.



As soon as the elevator stopped and the doors opened, I shot out into the hall...mostly to keep myself from maiming my roommate. What was worse, I heard the jerk laughing softly behind me.



More than ready to get this night over with, I stormed to 8E and knocked once before letting myself inside. I needed a big dose of Cora’s bubbling smile right now. I strode down the hall toward her room, leaving Ten to let himself inside.



Cora was in her room, but she wasn’t alone.



Ten had been right. Cora had gotten Zoey into one of her dresses. And it had a short skirt. It wasn’t tight like Cora’s, but fluttered around her thighs in a loose skirt that would flare out into a bell if she twirled. Stalled just outside the doorway, I looked in at the two girls whose backs were toward me as Cora attached a necklace around Zoey’s neck. It was long and disappeared down into her cleavage.



She looked good. They both looked good. I started to speak, make my presence known, but then Cora said something that had the words evaporating in my throat.