Roommates with the Party Boy

I clear my throat and pop my head into view with the most friendly smile I could muster. "Hi," I say softly, stepping closer. "Um, I'm Cammie."
To my relief, she smiles back. "Hi," she says simply.
She was... a little drunk, and by the redness in her eyes, probably high. She smelled of beer and weed and as she turned to the shower to pull the curtain back, I noticed the tramp stamp on her lower back that read "This was a dare."
"A real tease, isn't she?"
I recognized that voice. It made my skin crawl and sweat break out over my entire body.
My body turns and my blood runs cold when the gray eyes from downstairs meet mine. What are the odds that my roommate brought this sleaze-bag home?
"Uh..." is the only word that is able to exit my mouth.
He chuckles and leans back into the couch behind him, his eyes not leaving mine. A pair of dimples so large you could fill them with water and call them kiddie pools.
"I-I guess you can't choose your roommate when you apply so late," I say with a nervous laugh before my hand comes up to hold my own arm in an attempt to comfort myself out of this awkward moment.
His eyebrows raise until they disappear under his floppy bangs. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Hopefully you don't mind me bringing girls around here often."
I thickly swallow as his words make their way through my brain, and I take a small step back until I feel the bathroom door against my back. "What?" I blurt out.
He smirks and takes a few steps closer to me, his hands slowly, slowly coming to rest on the door on either side of my shoulders, about six inches between our faces. He smelled better than she did, that was for sure. His scent alone could have made me blush.
"Cause you can't choose your roommates, and I ain't going anywhere, roomie."