Addicted

"Yep. I just need to run to the restroom. Get the snacks out of the cabinet that I picked up for us. It's cheaper to buy in bulk." She turned and walked out of the room as I rolled my eyes.

After grabbing the treats, I did a quick sweep through the apartment and let out a sigh. "Four years of my life...over."

Graduation had been a few weeks before, and I was now a grown up — or was supposed to be.

"Are you talking to yourself again?" Emily snagged the keys from me. "I want to drive the Beamer. My parents aren't rich, and I'm almost out of time to live vicariously through you and yours."

"Don't say that." I picked up the bag of snacks and walked into the living room. "You and I are going to be in each other’s lives forever."

"You really think so?" She glanced over her shoulder as she popped the handle to her suitcase.

"I know so. We've been friends since grade school. Why would that change now? We're finally free." I grabbed my bag and walked to the door. "You sure your brother is going to take good care of this place?"

"Yes. For the millionth time. He's just like me. Conservative, timid, and a clean freak." She shrugged and opened the door, moving out into the hall. "Besides, he needs to check out the campus, and this is a great way to do it. We're stuck in this damn lease until September, thanks to you."

"Always my fault." I paused to lock the door as a warm breeze blew through the open-air hallway.

"It usually is and you know it." She chuckled.

"If it makes you feel better to blame me, then fine. I'll take it." I tugged at the shoulder of her shirt and shook my head. "I'm getting you in a bikini this summer."

"I'll wear one with you guys, but it's not happening in public. My boobs are too big, and they don't talk back." She smirked.

"They don't talk back? What the hell does that mean?" I paused by the only elevator in our apartment complex, preparing for a long wait as per usual.

"Guys talk to my chest when I wear normal clothes. My boobs don't talk back. I need to get a shirt made that says that."

"I almost feel giddy for the man that actually catches your eye and means enough to pull your clothes off for. He's going to feel like he just uncovered buried treasure." I laughed as she pushed at me.

"You're jealous."

"Of course, I am. You're insanely hot and yet you hide yourself behind all those clothes. It makes no sense to me, but I support whatever makes you comfortable." I got into the elevator to find it empty. The apocalypse must have been coming; it was usually packed with people, most of whom were frat boys who didn't seem to think personal space existed.

"No, you don't, but whatever. Your peer pressure might work on Cindy and Dedra, but I'm immune to it. I've been fighting it my whole life."

I let out a soft gasp. "Me? Peer pressuring someone? Next, you'll be calling me bossy."

"You? Never." She rolled her eyes and held the door for me.

"I can't help it, and you know it. You've met my father, right? If he wants his way, all else be damned." I tugged my suitcase out into the hallway and nodded at a hot guy walking toward us. I turned my head to check him out as he passed, only to find him doing the same.

"I thought you swore off men." Emily bumped her suitcase against mine.

"Just blonds. He had brown hair." I winked and moved down the sidewalk, letting out a groan. "Why is Arizona so hot during the summer?"

"At least it's dry heat." Her tone was pinched.

"Alright, what's up?" I popped the trunk and lugged my bag into the back of the car. My parents had outdone themselves with my new BMW for graduation, and where I wanted to think it was for doing a great job, I knew better. Nothing came from my father without strings attached. It was an incentive to keep going. My business degree was great and a good start, but pre-law was next. No matter how much I abhorred the idea of it.

"Nothing. I'm just worried about you." She lugged her bag into the back. Her shirt pulled tight, and I could make out her curves. She was perfect, and yet her jacked up sense of self-preservation left her hiding all the time.

She hides behind clothes, and I hide behind false importance.

"Don't worry about me, Emily. I'm good. Brandon is in the rear view mirror — long gone." I shrugged and closed the trunk. "Let's stop talking about the past and start living in the future."

"How about we live in the present?" She glanced at me over the top of the car. "You sure you're good with me driving."

"Yep. You wreck it and you get to talk to my dad."