Baby Mine – Hunter & Lennon (Roommate Duet 1)

Liam: I’m gonna head that way. Want to meet up early?

I grin and send him a picture of the current situation. Me with my second beer.

Liam: You bastard. Shoulda texted me.

Hunter: I had to get out of the house so Brandon and Lennon could bang on every flat surface we have.

Liam: The visual…gross. I’ll be there in fifteen.

By the time I finish my beer, Liam walks through the door wearing a shit-eating grin. He sits on the stool next to me, and Bernie comes around the corner carrying a tub of margarita mix. Three more bartenders arrive to help prep for the busy shift they’re about to endure. I don’t envy them whatsoever. Though my job can be stressful, I’d rather do it over bartending any day.

“Hey, man. Two shots of whiskey,” Liam says.

I glance over at him, noticing he’s starting with straight liquor. “Tonight’s gonna be interesting, isn’t it?”

Sometimes when he and Mason drink, they go wild and crazy. We’re supposed to be mature adults now that we’ve graduated from college and have real jobs, but I don’t see that happening for a long time. At least not until we’re all settled down, and even then, I’m not so sure.

When the shots appear in front of us, Liam slides one over to me. “It’s always interesting when the three of us are together. I texted Mason, and he’ll be here within the hour.” Liam and I take our shots, and it burns going down. Considering I was a bartender at one of the hottest clubs on this side of the state, I know how stupid it is to mix my alcohol, but I can’t find it in me right now to care.

I look at the time on my phone. It’s barely four in the afternoon, and in just a short few hours, we’re gonna be a trio of hot fucking messes.

“So,” Liam says, “how’s living with the happy couple these days?”

I groan. “Miserable as ever.”

He orders us another round of shots. At this pace, we won’t make it until Mason shows up. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s really fucking bad. Lennon bitches all the time about every little thing. I miss the simple life when it was just Brandon and me,” I admit because I do.

“You just need to get a girlfriend and have her move in too.” He barely finishes his sentence before he laughs at his own words.

I shake my head. “The apartment is too small as it is. I’d probably just move out and let them take over the lease. I have a feeling things are getting pretty serious with them, considering the constant fucking I have to listen to and the sickening lovey-dovey nicknames they have for one another. But who knows?”

Our next round of shots appears in front of us, and we hear our names called behind us as we take them. This time it doesn’t burn, which means I’ve officially drunk too much too fast. Liam and I turn around and see Mason. I realize they’re both dressed in dark blue button-up shirts and dark wash jeans.

“Look at you two, dressed like twins. You call each other and agree to match on purpose?” I ask, giving them as much shit as possible.

Mason looks at Liam and chuckles, though Liam doesn’t seem too impressed.

“Who knows, maybe your periods will sync this month too,” I tell Liam as Mason sits on the other side of me. They’ve been roommates for as long as Brandon and I have, and can basically finish each other’s sentences at this point.

“Are you two assholes already drunk?” Mason asks before ordering.

Liam shrugs. “Traveling on a one-way street toward Wastedville.”

“If you keep it up, you’re gonna have whiskey dick and be crying for your mama.” Mason takes a pull on his beer as soon as it’s set in front of him.

We continue drinking until it’s dark, and I haven’t laughed this much in weeks. Hanging out with them is exactly what I needed. By the time we leave, we’ve had so much to drink, we’re essentially invincible. Stumbling out, we weave through the happy couples filling the restaurant and walk the few blocks to the club, but all I can think about is taking a piss.

Most of the people working still know Liam and me since we worked here throughout our college years, so we don’t have to pay the cover charge and go right in. The club is jam-packed; I wouldn’t be surprised if the fire marshall shows up to shut the party down. People crowd around the bar, and I tell the guys I have to make a pit stop first. I move across the club, making my way through hordes of bodies to the bathroom. I have to stand in line, which is annoying as hell, but thank God it’s not as long as the women’s bathroom.