“No, but I got the impression that roommates were off-limits.”
“Did those fucking sisters of mine tell you the whole story?”
“Not really.”
“Well, let me lay it out for you. The old girl that lived here, Christie, was bat-shit crazy. I never planned on screwing her, but one night we got drunk as piss and it happened. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. She wouldn’t leave me alone. She wanted exclusivity and followed me around for weeks. I couldn’t even come over to see Ella and Abbi without her throwing herself at me. She did crazy shit. I mean crazy! She would text me from their phones and when I showed up, they were out. She would answer the door in a towel and beg me to fuck her. She showed up at gigs and told the bouncers she was my girlfriend so she could get backstage. That’s just some of the stuff that happened. Finally, I had to become a major dickhead to get my point across. She broke down, moved out, and told my sisters it was my fault.”
“What was your dickhead move?”
“It’s not a good story and not a story I want to repeat.”
This isn’t
the answer I want and I guess he can tell by the look on my face. I’m not good at hiding my emotions in my expressions.
“I fucked a girl right in front of her.”
This isn’t exactly what I’m expecting so I try to hide my shock. All I can say is, “Oh.”
I want this conversation to be over, but he continues.
“Are you gonna fuck me and then turn bat-shit crazy.”
“Nope, not gonna happen.”
“That’s why I want to get to know you.” He declares with a tone that closes the conversation.
*****
Dinner was delicious. I never had homemade enchiladas before, but Declan’s were spectacular. Our conversation was light during dinner. Declan told me that his enchiladas were his family’s favorite and he made them on special occasions. Other than a few other dishes, he isn’t too much of a cook. After our Christie discussion, we moved on to safer subjects. I explained my story and why I was back home and at Vanderbilt. I told him about growing up a dancer and my love for music. I explained my new interest in cooking and he raised his eyes and laughed. He soaked up every word as if everything I said was the most interesting thing in world.
I learned a lot about Declan too. It turns out he graduated from Belmont with a business degree, minoring in music. He started playing the guitar when he was ten and writing music when he was fifteen. His band is named Sayge after his late mother. When he started on the stories of his band and the guys, he became animated in a way that had me laughing along with him.
When we finished cleaning up the kitchen, we refreshed our drinks and I introduced him to the “Pretty Little Liars” marathon.
“Raven, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one, almost twenty-two.”
“You sit around on a Friday night watching a marathon about high school girls being tortured by a ghost?”
“Well, yes and no. Since I’ve already watched this season, I know what’s going to happen. But you may remember that I mentioned my smutty romance novel. I was planning on reading tonight as well.”
“You’re fucking silly.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.”
All of the sudden, the room takes on a whole new feeling. I don’t know if I should take his statement seriously or just ignore it. Either way, it puts butterflies in my stomach. When I look up, I gaze directly in to his green eyes that keep me captive. I’m not sure how long we stare at each other, but I’m the first to break the silence.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Nope, just making a statement.”
“Well that’s a relief because that was a lame attempt.”
“Raven, take a note here, when I flirt with you, you won’t have to ask. It will be deliberate, and it will be obvious.”