My Summer Roommate (13 page)

Chapter
Seventeen

CHLOE

I’m better. Even my throat is not so sore anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy is Chris. I keep wondering how I managed to get myself into this situation. I mean, everything’s perfect. I’m enjoying the last vacation before college, my mom’s happy, the weather is sweltering hot just how I like it, I have the sexiest roommate on the planet … Earlier, when he came home from work, all breathless and sweaty, his hair hanging in his eyes, I nearly lost it. And then he lifted his shirt to wipe his face and his stomach glistened with sweat … I think my temperature rose for a moment there. He’s too good to be true. I could so have my way with him, if only … If only he weren’t in love with me. But I can’t do this to him, knowing I’d break his heart. And mine.

Fuck
, fuck, fuck.

He walks in
, and my brain shuts off as if he’s caught me. Luckily, he can’t hear my thoughts or he’d be running for his life. He looks anxious as it is.

“Sorry about the glass,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. He makes a sound of dismissal.

I start to panic when he stops right next to my bed and motions for me to move over. I can’t let him get any closer, but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a bitch.

“Chloe,” he says, and I know something’s up. I can hear it in his voice and
see it in his intense gaze. For a second I think he’ll kick me out. But he wouldn’t do that. Not Chris.

“Huh?” I try to act cool, but my voice hitches and I just sound pathetic. I’m not fifteen
.
Christ
.

“I think we’ve got a problem.”

Oh, yes. I couldn’t agree more. My problem right now is that my heart is going a hundred miles per hour. My hands are clammy. I’m salivating like there’s a bowl of Greek salad in front of me. My insides itch with the need to jump him.

I’m pretty sure this is at least partly due to the earlier fever. This visceral need can
’t all be natural, right?

Yeah, right.

“You know I’m crazy about you.”

“Uh-huh,” I
mumble, because I can’t get anything else past the lump in my throat. I feel the nervous heat rising up my neck and onto my cheeks. I imagine I must look ridiculous—half paralyzed and flushed like I’m having a stroke.

“I get it that you don’t want anything to happen between us. But you’re confusing me, and you’re making it pretty hard to …
um, well, not to do anything.” His hand is torturing the seam of his jeans, and his eyes are flitting around the room. I can almost feel the tension in his muscles without touching them. But I have to make sure. At least, that’s the only way I can explain my hand reaching out and touching his upper arm.

He stiffens, and looks alarmed at me.

“Chris,” I say.

“What?” he
asks hoarsely.

I’m leaning closer. I’m feeling dizzy again. “Just
… Chris.”

CHRIS

I think she must be feverish again, but not that sort of fever. I’ve always somehow known Chloe would be passionate, but this is ... intense. Like she’s still battling between kissing me and pushing me away. After the first few moments of almost desperate kissing, I manage to make her laugh and then she relaxes and softens. Fuck, she feels good. So good that I’m afraid I’ll lose it.

Her
soft, gorgeous body is pressed flush against me. My jeans are getting tight, and on occasion, I forget to breathe. After a month of lusting after her, I have her right where she’s supposed to be. Only, she’s supposed to have fewer clothes on.

She stretches her arms above her head so I can pull her t-shirt off. She wriggles a little and all my blood migrates south.

“Easy,” I whisper, but the next second I have difficulty remembering why I wanted her to slow down when she feels so good.

She giggles, her cheeks pink, eyes bright. When I think she looks like this because of me, I’m blown away. This. This is right. This is so good.

Only… No, shit, stop. Don’t go there.

She pushes my shoulder until I roll onto my back
, and if I thought this couldn’t get better I was mistaken. She straddles me and then pauses. She stares at me with wide eyes as if she can’t believe this is happening either. Because I sure can’t.

Slowly, she lowers herself until her skin touches mine and my nerve endings fire up. I’m beginning to understand what people mean when they say you can have too much of the good stuff. This is bordering on too much. I’m afraid my skin will
burst from the blood pumping violently through my veins. Shit, this is how being high must feel.

I groan when she presses down on my groin. She’s killing me. And I let her.

“Chris,” she murmurs in my ear, and I’m about to ask what but then I realize she just likes saying my name. I never thought something so simple could be a turn-on.

It’s then that I realize this is more than just sex. For both of us. It’s then that I realize the horror of it all and that I have to stop before it gets worse. I have to tell her what I did.
Oh, god, I fucked up
.

She’s about to kiss me and I ache to feel her mouth on me, but I push her shoulders away.

“Chloe.” My voice is strangled. I’m panting and I feel a painful pressure in my head. She just looks surprised, but I know after I tell her everything, I won’t stand a chance with her anymore. For a second I consider letting it go and let her make love to me while she’s still willing. Because once she finds out about what I did, there won’t be a chance in hell of her even being my friend, much less my girlfriend. I’m so torn, I feel physical pain.

But I can’t be such a bastard. I care too much about her to do this to he
r. With the last bit of energy I push her until she slides off me and sits on her heels on the bed.

“What’s wrong? Chris?”

I feel sick to my stomach. “I have to tell you something.”

“Can’t it wait?” From her serious expression I know she already knows it can’t. She looks vulnerable, even more so than when she was half-unconscious with fever. I think she can feel
it, she can feel that this is the point of no return. It’s all there, on her beautiful face, the insecurity, fear, annoyance, and hurt. And it’s fucking killing me.

“We’ve got to stop,” I blurt out. I have difficulty getting the words out. I wish she could just read my mind, so I would
n’t have to put my shame into words.

“Are you sick?” she asks worriedly.

I imagine I must look ashen, but then I realize she thinks I have an STD.

“God, no! No. You’re safe,” I say hurriedly.

“Oh,” she says and there’s relief in her sigh. “I thought, from the way you panicked …”

“I did something terrible, Chloe
.” There’s no going back now. It’s confession time. I’m shocked to realize this feels just as bad as when I was told by the doctors that I’d never snowboard again. Oh, I’m so fucked. I feel like crying and I haven’t done that in about fifteen years.

“I made a bet.”

“Sorry?” The flush is gone from her cheeks, she looks pale and a bit scared, I think. She’s fumbling for her t-shirt that’s buried somewhere under the pillows.

“At Mark
’s party. The guys found out about you staying with me and they wouldn’t stop yanking my chain about it. I had too much to drink.” I know I’m babbling, but it’s the best I can do, considering the blood still hasn’t returned to my brain. My hard-on is even more painful now that I know she won’t be there to do something about it.

“Someone, I don’t remember who, dared me to…”

“To what, Chris?”

When I close my eyes, I see re
d circles dancing on my eyelids as if celebrating my demise. I pull the pillow into my lap. This whole thing is painful enough without my crotch being a ridiculous reminder of better times.

“To sleep with you.”
I thought I said the words quietly, but they ring out through the room like I’d screamed them. They pierce my eardrums with their awfulness.

“What?”
Her breath hitches, and I can hear all her hurt in the simple, short word.

I hope it’s a rhetorical question. I can’t possibly repeat that ever again. I can’t look at her. I stare at the hideous pattern on the carpet. At the water stain from earlier. At the torn wallpaper. Everywhere, but
at Chloe.

I hear her move. It sounds like she has difficulty getting off the bed.

“I’m sorry.”

“How much was the bet for?” she asks, standing next to the bed. I still haven’t looked at her
. I’m gathering courage.

“It doesn’t matter,” I
mumble, but I already know that won’t stop her.

“At least have the decency to be straight with me.” Despite the sharp words, her voice sounds brittle. I want to hug her to me, cuddle her until she forgives me. But I think if I touch her now she might kill me with her bare hand
s.

“Hundred bucks
, I think.” The words are so quiet I’m sure she can’t hear them. But apparently, she can read lips.

I finally look at her. I realize what a coward I am. I humiliated this wonderful girl, I hurt her terribly, and I don’t even have the balls to face her anger. I used to think I was a fairly decent guy.
Think again, dumbass
.

I don’t think I can fix this anymore, but I decide to try.

“You know this wasn’t about the bet, right? Chloe?” I point between us, indicating the mind-boggling kissing and cuddling earlier. God, I wish I could turn back time... Back to before the bet, not just before me admitting to it. I could never be with Chloe while keeping secrets from her.

“This was real. I’m crazy about you, babe. You know that, right?”

“Right now I just know you’re a dick, and I was right to keep my distance.”

“No, don’t say that. I’m a dick, I give you that. But I’m sorry. So very
sorry, Chloe. Please forgive me. Please.”

“How could you?” She sounds breathless. More hurt than angry, and I can’t stand that. I’d prefer anger anytime. I’d prefer
she scream at me and hit me rather than seeing this horrified, painful look in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean it. It was just a joke, Chloe.”

I get up of the bed and I want to hold her hands but as soon as I touch her arm, she jerks away like she’s disgusted with me. Oh, god.

“I wasn’t serious about it. Please, believe me.”

“How can I know you’re serious about anything, Chris? Am I a joke to you? Is that what this was all about? Am I your comic relief before college or something?”

“God, no, Chloe, don’t say that. I meant every word, every kiss. I was never joking about us, about this.”

I cup her face in my palms and I think I’d be willing to give all my snowboarding wins to be able to wipe the hurt from it. “Babe, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Now I at least know how much I’m worth to you.”

“No …” She interrupts me before I get anything out, although I’m not even sure what to say anymore to convince her.

“Do you need me to compensate you for your loss of the bet?” she asks and her voice is scathing, even though her eyes are brimming with tears.

“Fuck, Chloe, don’t be like this.”

I think the door after she
closes it in my face is showing more emotion at my pleading than Chloe did.

Fuck, this hurts.

Chapter
Nineteen

CHLOE

“Hey, wait up,” Harper calls as I run ahead. It’s an early morning and we’re running in the park. Isabelle suggested I join Harper on his regular run when I mentioned to her that I started running two weeks ago. Harper was dubious at first. I think he was afraid I’d slow him down. But I push myself every day to get the poison out of my system.

The
poison being Chris, of course.

The
day Chris broke my heart I crashed at Izzy’s place. The next morning, when I knew he was at work, Izzy helped me move my stuff from his place to hers. We managed to avoid him altogether. Now, my boxes litter her upstairs hallway, and I sleep on an air mattress. Harper has been evicted back to his place and he’s none too happy about it, but he puts up with me because I’m Isabelle’s friend. He’s great like that.

“
What’s the rush?” he says now, breathing almost normally.

I shrug, but the gesture gets lost in the movement of my entire body.

“You’re pushing yourself like you’ve got a marathon to win next week,” he says. “Why don’t you try enjoying it instead?”

I want to say ‘are you crazy, this is not about enjoyment’. But I don’t. Mostly, because I’m tragically out of breath.