Daddies Brat

Leslie

Monday may have been easy for me, but Tuesday was like getting kicked in the teeth by an angry mule. My day started bright and early at eight with my Organizational Behavior class. After that was over, I had five minutes to run to my Ethics and Reasoning class on the other side of campus. Then I had twenty minutes for lunch, followed by two more classes in the afternoon: Clinical Psychopharmacology and Group Dynamics.

Since these classes only met twice a week, they lasted almost two hours. It was close to five o’clock when I finally walked home, drained and overstimulated.

Then I spent four more hours in my room, completing all the take-home assignments my professors had given out.

Wednesday was like Monday: only two classes, one of which was the easy gen-ed. But it was tough to enjoy thanks to the mountain of classwork that was waiting for me when I got home. I already had a term paper due next week in my Group Dynamics class!

At first, I was self-conscious being around my three new roommates. And not just because they were men-it was also uncomfortable because I didn’t know them. They were strangers. Learning to get along with new people was always difficult, even in the best of circumstances. Throw in the drama that had surrounded my living situation, and the almost-hookup with Riley, and you had a set of terrible circumstances to start the semester.

But the guys weren’t weird or self-conscious. They gave me my space, yet were friendly whenever we crossed paths. Avery continued making his morning smoothie while wearing only a towel, though he sheepishly tried to look in a different direction so that his chiseled chest wasn’t on display. Harper was warm and inviting, but not pushy. Riley was cheerful in the morning while waiting his turn for the bathroom. His crystal blue eyes sparkled with mischief, just like they had in the moonlight by the shed while we hid from the cops. But if he was harboring deeper desires, he didn’t act on them. True to his word, he was treating me like a roommate.

Just a roommate.

That only made me think about him more. Why did he have to be so damn respectful? I began to wonder if he was really into me that night at the party. He must not have been if he was able to treat me platonically so easily.

And beyond that, one question still tormented me every time we crossed paths: why did he ditch me that night?

Thursday was my toughest day. It was identical to Tuesday’s schedule, but with the added torture of an evening lab. The sun was setting by the time I walked through the front door of what I was beginning to think of as my home. The guys were in the middle of a heated argument.

“They don’t count!” Riley was insisting.

“Why not?” Avery shot back. “Because they’re the best answers?”

“Because they’re too obvious,” Riley replied. “You can do better than that.”

“What are you arguing about?” I asked.

All three of them whipped their heads toward me. “Top five dirtiest sounding presidents,” Harper explained.

“Wait a minute. I knew Riley liked to do these lists, but you guys do it too?”

“I try not to encourage him, but occasionally it’s worth participating,” Harper replied. “And I’m inclined to agree with Riley.” “Nobody asked you,” Avery said stubbornly.

“What’s the argument? I’ll be the tiebreaker,” I offered.

Riley turned to face me. I felt my body come alive under his gaze. “I told Avery that the two Bushes don’t count because they’re too obvious.”

I nodded along. “I think I agree. Same for both Johnsons.” “Damnit,” Avery muttered.

“Our new roommate is wise,” Harper said, dipping his head in acknowledgment. “Warren G. Harding.”

“Oh, good one,” Riley replied. “Franklin Pierce.” I started giggling.

“I’ve got it,” Avery said. “Woodrow Wilson.”

“See?” Riley replied. “Far more creative than Bush.”

Harper scrunched his face in concentration. “Hoover?”

“Ehh.” Riley wobbled his palm in the air. “You can do better.”

“Chester A. Arthur!” Avery exclaimed. “Get it? Chest? Boobs?”

“Can you explain it more?” Harper said dryly. “I don’t get it.” Avery flipped him off.

“One more,” Riley said, glancing at me. “Who’s got one?” “James Polk?” Harper suggested.

“Solid. But not amazing.”

“I’ve got it,” I said, smiling. “Millard Fillmore.”

The guys responded with a chorus of ohh’s and claps. Riley held up his palm for me to high-five. I grinned at their esteem.

“I was going to say James Polk,” Harper said. “But Fillmore is clearly the winner.”

“You win,” Riley said.

“Oh! What do I win?”

“Bragging rights, mostly,” Harper said. “But you’re also welcome to come drink with us tonight.”

“Thirsty Thursday,” Avery said enthusiastically. “We’ve got two parties we’re going to hit up. Nothing crazy-more of a chill vibe. Cops definitely won’t come bust you for having a fake ID.”

His eyes flicked toward Riley when he said that. He must have told Avery my secret.

“Tempting… but I think I’m just going to stay home tonight.”

“Aww, come have a drink,” Riley insisted. “It’s a cool group. Most of them are friends from my baseball team. A few of them are single. I could set you up.”NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

He said it casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it felt like a big deal. Only a few days ago, Riley and I were making out behind the shed at a party, with an unbelievable amount of chemistry pinging between us. And now he was offering to set me up with his friends. It felt like a twisted, painful kind of rejection.

“I’m already behind on my classwork,” I replied. “And I have a quiz tomorrow morning. Rain check?”

Without waiting for a response, I hurried upstairs and closed my door.

I opened my textbooks to study, but my eyes scanned the words without really absorbing them. Why did Riley’s rejection hurt so much? He was doing exactly what I requested, treating me just like a roommate. I should have been relieved. Instead, there was a tight ball of anxiety in my gut that wouldn’t go away.

“You ready to go?” Avery shouted from downstairs, voice muffled slightly by my door.

“I need to take a shower,” Riley called down to him. “I’ll meet you guys there.”

I heard the bathroom door close, and the shower turn on. Against my will, I pictured a nude Riley standing underneath the shower head, rivulets of steaming water running over his lithe body. I wondered if he was jacking off in there. Guys did that before going out, right? I felt like I had heard that before. It cleared their heads or something.

Silently, I got up and opened my door a crack, then returned to the textbooks on my bed.

The shower turned off a few minutes later. I heard the sound of soft cotton against skin as Riley toweled himself off. Then the bathroom door opened and he walked down the hall to his room. I only saw a sliver of him for a split second, but it was enough to make my heart race: he was completely nude except for a towel, lean and beautiful.

The door to his bedroom closed, and then music began to play. The song sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Riley’s slender form remained planted in my head as the music thumped in the room next door. Ugh, why does he have to be so hot? I knew I was sexually frustrated, but I wasn’t in the mood to pull out my vibrator. That felt inadequate tonight. Besides, I had studying to do.

I looked down at my psychology textbook. I was on the same page I had started on half an hour ago. And Riley was moving around in his room, a distraction that was impossible to ignore.

Eventually, I got up and knocked on his door. “Come in,” he called.

I recognized the song as soon as I opened the door: When You Were Young, by The Killers. Riley was clothed now, I was sad to see: jeans and a tight T-shirt that accentuated the natural V-shape of his torso. He turned the music down a few notches when he saw me.

“Was it too loud for you?” he asked. “Sorry, I forgot you were studying. I’m about to leave.”

“It wasn’t bothering me,” I said. “I love this song. Sam’s Town is definitely my favorite album of theirs. More than Hot Fuss.”

“You would think that,” he teased. “You like Brandon Flowers’ solo stuff, so your opinion isn’t what I would consider trustworthy.” “Want to know a secret?” I asked.

He paused while grabbing a pair of socks from his dresser. “Sure, I guess.”

“I don’t actually like his solo stuff. I was just saying that to get a rise out of you at the party.”

“Oh thank God,” Riley exhaled. “I’ve been plotting a way to smother you in your sleep, but now I don’t have to.”

I laughed at the comment. “At the party, you mentioned snapping my neck. Now you’re joking about smothering me in my sleep. You’ve got a weird way of flirting with women.”

“Not flirting,” he said, pointing at me. “I promised not to do that. Or anything else to make you uncomfortable.”

“And you’ve done a good job of keeping that promise.” I hesitated, then charged forward with the topic I couldn’t avoid. “I told you a secret. Now it’s your turn. What happened after the cops busted the party the other night?”

I could sense him tensing, putting up his walls. “I thought we had moved past that.”

“Apparently not. What happened?”

He turned and focused on his sock drawer so I couldn’t see his face. “It doesn’t matter.”

“See, that’s where I disagree,” I replied heatedly. “You ditched me. And then you lied about it the next day. What happened, Riley?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you find another girl to hit on?” I insisted. “Someone hotter than me?”

“No!”

“Because that’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” I said. “You went home with another girl. Why else would you hide it from me?”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“You are, and you’re lying right now.” My voice was rising, but I didn’t care because we were alone in the house. “Tell me the truth, roomie. What happened?”

He whirled around, face red with anger. “I got busted by the cops!”

I snorted. “For what?”

“For having a fake ID.” He pulled his wallet out and handed me a card. “This is my real ID.”

I scanned the dates listed. “You’re only twenty?”

“Just like you,” he said in annoyance. “I helped you escape, and then the cops discovered me hiding behind the shed. They confiscated my fake ID and reported me to the school. By the time it was over and I ran to the convenience store, you weren’t there anymore.”

I stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was embarrassed,” he revealed. It seemed ridiculous for a guy like him to be embarrassed. “And I didn’t want you to feel guilty about getting away.”

Suddenly, I saw his secret in a different light. When we were hiding behind the shed at the party, he was in just as much danger as I was. He helped me escape, and got caught because of it. And this whole time, I had been mad at him for it. Like he had done something wrong.

In reality, I owed him.

I was shocked. I was angry-not at him, but at myself. And I was confused, a bundle of confused emotions that were swirling around inside of me…

I surrendered to the emotions and kissed him.