Chapter Five NICO

Chapter Five

NICO

“You’re such a schmuck,” I tell Dollar the moment Everleigh leaves the house.

“What are you talking about?” He acts like he has no idea what I’m talking about, but come on.

He has to.

“You wouldn’t let up on her about making you dinners. You even want her to grocery shop for us,” I remind him.

Poor girl. Look, I can’t lie. I’ll take some home-cooked meals a couple of times a week, but I don’t want her to be our mama. Dollar is taking it too far.

“Yeah, and that’s because I don’t have a lot of time, and might I remind you that you don’t either. Who’s going to shop for these gourmet meals she’ll prepare for us?” Dollar sounds so damn logical, he’s almost got me convinced.

“She never once mentioned anything about the meals being gourmet,” Coop points out, the true logical one of us three.

We’re all in the kitchen, crowded around the tiny table that sits in the dining area. We barely fit around it, it’s so small, and I hope when our new roomie makes us these supposed dinners that she doesn’t expect to sit with us, because I don’t know how we’ll make it happen. She’s a little thing, but I don’t know where she’ll fit.

Seriously, I’m just as much of a schmuck as Dollar is because I’m already anticipating those home-cooked meals too.

“True,” I say, but Dollar is shaking his head.

“They might be. We don’t know. I have faith in her. She seems cool.” Dollar’s voice is purposely nonchalant. “And she’s cute.”

Ah. There it is. He falls hard for pretty much any girl who looks at him twice, even if they’re just being polite. And when they are into him, he comes on so strong, his behavior sends most of them packing, which sucks for poor old Dollar. He just wants to find a woman who loves him, unlike the rest of us, who are searching for something a little more casual.

“Don’t get any wild ideas,” Coop warns him.

“What do you mean?” Now Dollar is perplexed. Funny how he never seems to get it.

“He’s basically saying don’t shit where you eat,” I explain.

Dollar grimaces. “That’s disgusting.”

“What Nico means is don’t fuck around with our new roommate, Frank.” Cooper sends him a look. “You can’t think she’s cute. Or pretty. Or beautiful. And you definitely can’t flirt with her. That’s just .?.?.”

“Dangerous,” I finish for Coop.

“Exactly.” Coop nods.

“That’s some bullshit. If I want to flirt with her, I will. If I want to fuck around with her, I will.” Dollar glares at both of us. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

I roll my eyes at Cooper before I say, “We’re not telling you what to do, Dollar. We’re just trying to help your ass.”

“Yet you never listen to us,” Coop mutters.

“Because you guys are full of shit most of the time.” Dollar leaps to his feet, jabbing his index finger in our direction. “I’m gonna go check on her. I promised I would help her move her stuff in.”

“You don’t even know where she went,” I remind him.

“I’ll wait outside for her then. Better than being in here getting shit from you two.”

He’s gone in seconds, the front door slamming behind him and making the entire house rattle.

“Maybe we’re too hard on him,” Coop says, looking guilty.

He’s probably right, but come on.

“Nah. He does this sort of thing all the time.” Falling head over ass for some hottie who plays along because he’s eager to please and will do whatever she asks him to do until she eventually finds someone better.

Frank Dollar is a nice guy. Not a bad-looking guy, I suppose. But he tries too damn hard, and some of the women he tries for know it. They use him, and he lets it happen every damn time.

I’ve never admitted this to either of my roommates, but I used to be the Frank Dollar of my high school. My confidence was for shit back then. I was kind of scrawny but still managed to play damn good ball out on the field because I was fast, but I never caught the attention of the girls.

Until I started laying it on thick with the ones I was interested in, just like Dollar does. They used me up and spit me out, and when I got burned by a girl I was interested in, forget it.

Commitment is for idiots, especially at our age. I’m too young for a serious relationship. Too busy to take the time to even contemplate one. I’m not interested. And it’s like women sense that, are attracted to that sort of attitude. They know I’m not serious, and all they want to do is convert me. Change me into a relationship type of guy.

No thanks.

There was only one who interested me enough to see her on a semiregular basis this past spring, but it went sour fast. She got a little too possessive and placed way too many expectations upon me. I bailed out quick because I could see if I stuck with her for any length of time, it would become harder and harder to get away from her.

Again, no thank you. I’m done dating women until I at least graduate from college.

Done.

“Think she’s going to work out as our roommate?” Coop asks, changing the subject.

Everleigh’s pretty face pops into my brain, but I banish it quickly. I need to follow the same advice I gave Dollar. “Sure. Why wouldn’t she?”

“She’s cute. Seems nice enough. Plus she’s in a tough situation. That’s always appealing. The damsel in distress or whatever.” Cooper chuckles. “Looking forward to someone cooking for us, though. Maybe not as much as Dollar is, but still.”

“Right. That’s not a bad deal.” I shrug.

“Still can’t believe you offered to share your bathroom with her. What were you thinking?” He bursts out laughing while I scowl at him. “All her girlie shit is going to be spread out on your counter.”

Hell, I didn’t even think about that. “It’s a pretty big counter.”

“What if she hand-washes her lacy bras and dries them by draping them over the shower rod? Then you gotta stare at her sexy underwear every time you take a piss.” He’s still laughing, and I know he’s enjoying giving me shit. “And what if you’re fucking some hot girl and right when she’s about to scream your name, in walks our new roomie, eager to get to her nightly bathroom routine?”

“You know that won’t fly,” I retort. Coop smothers his laughter with a big hand while I toss a packet of parmesan cheese left over from the pizza we ate for dinner last night at him. “Not like I have girls over that often, anyway.”

“Not after the last one,” Coop oh-so-kindly reminds me.

“She cured me from having anyone over ever again.” The problem with inviting women into your home is they start imagining it as their home. Next thing you know, she’s getting a few bright ideas about decorating it. Burning a candle and shit. Starts leaving her things “accidentally.” Her clothes are on top of your dresser, and there are tampons in the bathroom .?.?.

Well, shit. There’s going to be tampons in my bathroom for the next nine months, thanks to me sharing it with Everleigh.

“What if you’re like .?.?. jerking off in bed and she comes into the room in the middle of the night to pee? What are you going to do then?” Cooper raises his brows, clearly enjoying this.

My mind immediately goes to Everleigh offering to help when she catches me jerking off, and I banish that idea completely. “I don’t jerk off in the middle of the night.”

“If you tell me right now that you get so much pussy, you don’t need to jerk off, I’m calling bullshit,” Coop says with a laugh.

“If you have to know, I prefer jerking off in the shower,” I tell him, which only makes Coop laugh harder. To the point that I’m laughing with him because I can’t stay mad at the guy for too long.

And he’s making valid points. I offered Everleigh my bathroom because I felt sorry for her. The look of pure horror on her face at the idea of sharing a bathroom with Coop and Dollar—yeah, gross, they’re complete slobs—had me piping up without even thinking.

The utter relief I saw on her face once I did was worth saying it.

Maybe.

Shit, I don’t know. I can’t get too caught up in her looks, because she is definitely attractive, with the shoulder-length dark hair and bright-blue eyes and lush pink lips. Nice body, long legs that looked damn good in those denim shorts she was wearing. A little shyer than what I’m usually drawn to, but she’s dealing with a lot at the moment, so I can get that.

But I’m not interested in that. In her. I can’t be.

It’s my turn to change the subject.

“Look, I kind of like that we can help her out,” I tell Coop, who sobers up immediately. “But we should probably establish some rules with her, don’t you think?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It’s just—I’ve never lived with a woman before.”

“We were in the coed dorms.” Cooper knows this because this was how we became close our freshman year. We were in the same dorm building.

“Big difference. I didn’t share a room with a girl, and neither did you.”

“You have a sister.”

“Who’s much older than I am. By the time I was ten, she’d moved out.” We’re not close. She lives in Manhattan and works for a big PR firm. She doesn’t have time for her little brother. Too busy living her fast-paced life. Much like our dad.

My mom, though? She’s got all the time in the world for me. Maybe too much time. Once my parents got divorced, she funneled all her energy into me and my football success. While I appreciate her and love that she’s so supportive and proud, sometimes she can smother me.

Gotta love her for it, though.

“So you’ve never lived with a woman before beyond your mother and your sister when you were basically an infant?” Cooper shakes his head. I don’t bother protesting the infant comment. He’s just being a jerk. “Trust me. It’s .?.?. different.”

He has two sisters around our age, so he knows of what he speaks. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it isn’t bad. It’s just like I said—it’s different. They girlify everything.”

“Girlify?”

“Yeah. They want things to look pretty and aesthetically pleasing.” He grimaces. I don’t even know what aesthetically pleasing means, and I think he hates himself for saying those words out loud. “Next thing you know we’ll have cute kitchen towels and a candle burning every night, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Just what I suspected about the candle-burning thing, only worse because she’s going to actually live here.

Not sure what we just opened ourselves up to, but hopefully it’ll work out fine.

It has to.

“And she might take a photo of us and hang it on the wall. She’ll put a wreath on the door for Christmas. She might even do that for Halloween, or some sort of fall thing that’s made out of fake leaves and shit. She’ll probably clean up around the house, which is always a bonus. Women hate it when shit is messy.”

“Then they’d hate you because you’re the messiest person I know,” I throw back at Cooper.

Now it’s his turn to toss a parmesan packet at me. I catch it with one hand and throw it back at him, laughing when it bounces off his big forehead.

The door suddenly swings open, and Dollar is leading a shaken-looking Everleigh into the house, his arm around her shoulders as he guides her toward the couch, settling her in. Coop and I watch from where we’re sitting at the table, sharing a quiet look before Coop finally speaks up.

“What happened? Everything okay?”

“Ever’s car got broken into,” Dollar says, sitting on the couch next to her and slipping his arm around her shoulders once more.

For whatever reason, I don’t like seeing that. This guy. He’s going to try to make something happen with her, and she hasn’t even moved in yet. Hopefully his behavior doesn’t send her running.

Coop leaps to his feet. “Her car got broken into? What do you mean?”

“Someone busted the driver’s side window, got into her car, and stole all of her stuff,” Dollar explains. “Now she’s got nothing.”

Everleigh remains quiet, bending her head so her dark hair falls around her face.

His words actually seep into my brain, and I stand, too, moving quietly so I’m in front of them in seconds. “Everything?”

She lifts her head, her glassy eyes meeting mine as she gives a little nod. “All I have left is what was in my backpack. I have my phone and laptop, thankfully. But everything else? Gone.”

“All of your clothes?” Coop asks.

“I have my favorite hoodie in here, but that’s it.” She pats the backpack that I only just now notice sitting at her feet.

“You have nothing else.” I’m not asking her a question. I’ve already concluded this is it.

“Like I already said, everything Ever owned is gone,” Dollar says to me, talking slowly like I’m an idiot.

I ignore him, hating how he calls her Ever. Like they’re already great friends. “Did you call the cops?”

“Yes. I already made a police report.” She presses her lips together, and I swear the lower one trembles a little bit. Like she might break down in tears at any moment. “I need to fix my window.”

“Where’s your car right now?” Coop asks.

“Parked down the street.”

I speak before I can think. Something I’m afraid is becoming a habit. “You can’t park on the street with a busted window. I’ll share my spot with you until you get it fixed.”

Dollar frowns. I can feel the surprise radiate off Coop at my offer, but I ignore them both.

I can’t be a callous asshole toward women all the time.

This girl needs our help.