Roomies
- Reads 5,319
- Votes 207
- Parts 29
Ongoing2h 55m
Last published Sun, May 7, 2017
"Who the hell are you!" I yell and begin marching towards him and shove him away. "Why the hell are you in my apartment?" I shove him again, though it doesn't do much good. He holds his hands up in surrender.
"Hey easy there! This is my apartment too. You must be my roommate, um, Vertruse right?"
I take a deep breathe. "Roommate? I'm pretty sure you're not a girl?" I lower my arms and stand back, getting a better look at him. He's deeply tanned with light golden brown hair, which is a stark contrast to my dark hair and pale skin. He has an aura of seducing charm that I try to ignore. Simply, he looks like an all american popular jock, the kind that I avoid like the plague. He chuckles, his brilliant smile taking my breath away for a second.
"I'm sorry, a girl? Where did you get that idea from?" He looks me over slowly, his bright eyes glimmer with amusement. I cross my arms in embarrassment.
"Um.. I just, I mean, I guess I assumed.." I stammer.
"Look, how about we start over." He moves forward, taking my hand gently. "Hey, I'm Baylor Cole, and apparently we're roommates."
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C O M P L E T E D "Date me," he spins the whiskey around in the glass and fixes me with a smirk. I roll my eyes the moment the words roll off his tongue. "Are you really that desperate?" I scoff in response, fighting back the ever prominent blush. His smirk widens as my face flushes red and he leans over the countertop towards me. I step back. "Name your price," he replies, his words cool and smooth like ice cream. Only I would reference food at a moment like this. Anger rolls around in the pit of my stomach; I may not have money but I have morals. "You can't buy people, Grant," The words fall out of my mouth and he recoils as if slapped. I'm glad. Stupid rich boy and his player ways. "Bet I can," I resist the urge to slap the smug look of his face and scoff again. "Right," I drag out the word, rolling my eyes. I step away from the counter and turn my back on him, desperate to leave. But he speaks again. "Date me. Two months. If you fall for me for my money, I win. If I fall for you for who you really are, you win." I consider this for a moment. I have nothing to loose and really not much to gain. But I'm so desperate to put the asshole in his place that I can't resist. I'm a sucker for a bet. "Deal."
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