2. Tracy

2

Tracy

On Sunday afternoon, I deep-cleaned the already spotless apartment while waiting for Everett to arrive. Since he was driving up from L.A. and I didn't know what time he'd left, there was no way of pinpointing when he'd get here. All I could do was keep busy and try not to let my nerves get the better of me.

Logically, I knew there was no reason to worry. Roger liked this guy, so he probably wasn't an asshole. Even if he was, it didn't matter much. The next few weeks would pass, and Everett would move on. It didn't have to be a big deal.

Still though, I had my concerns. I didn't do well with new people, new situations, or change in general, and it was only getting worse with age. If I was this set in my ways at thirty-six, I had to wonder what I'd be like ten or twenty years from now. It was easy to picture myself in a kind of self-imposed time loop, living each day exactly like the one before it.

Somehow, that idea wasn't nearly as troubling as it should have been.

A loud knock pulled me out of my thoughts. I'd been sweeping the floor under the stove because I'd run out of things to clean, so I quickly moved the appliance back into place before hurrying to the foyer.

All I could see of my new roommate when I opened the door were two hands and a pair of tan, muscular legs. He was carrying a towering stack of cardboard boxes labeled "Phil," and for some reason he was also clutching a six-foot-tall fake upholstered cactus. I had to wonder how he'd made it from the basement parking garage like that.

A deep voice said, "Hey, I'm Ever. Am I in the right place?"

"Yeah, you are. Let me help you."

"Thanks. Grab the cactus, I've got the rest."

I did as he asked, but it didn't help much. As he followed me into the apartment, a box fell off the pile with a loud crash. "Shoot," he muttered, "that sounded bad."

He put down the rest of the boxes while I tried to choose a spot for the cactus. I ended up positioning it in a corner beside a potted Ficus tree before turning to my new roommate. He was crouched down with his back to me, shaking the box that had fallen. The way it rattled sounded like it was full of broken dishes.

Some kind of motion drew my attention to the plastic backpack he was wearing, which looked like a prop from a low-budget sci-fi movie. It was big, red, and bulbous, with a domed window on the front and rows of mesh portholes down both sides. Suddenly, a creature with a triangular head and huge, yellow eyes appeared in that window. I reflexively took a step back and blurted, "What is that?"

"What's what?" The creature let loose with a piercing wail, and Everett sighed. "I knew Phil would hate this new carrier. Can you please shut the front door while I get him out of there? I don't want him to run off."

I hurried to the door while he took off the backpack and freed whatever was trapped inside it. When I returned a few seconds later, he turned to me holding a cat, more or less. The thing was long, skinny, and mostly bald, aside from some wispy patches of gray fur. It looked annoyed, bordering on disgusted, so the happy face T-shirt it wore seemed ironic.

Everett scratched its big ears and spoke to it like he was addressing a person. "Sorry, Phil. I thought this would be the safest way to get you and all your stuff upstairs in one trip, but it must have been weird for you."

"Is he okay?"

I was referring to that fur situation, but he started to say, "He's fine. He hated being confined, though. I should have known he…" His words trailed off as we finally made eye contact, and we both frowned in confusion.

Why did he look familiar?

He was an exceptionally good-looking guy, there was no doubt about it. He had short, dark hair and a perfectly groomed short beard, and his eyes were a striking shade of sky blue. He was about an inch taller than me—which never happened, since I was six and a half feet tall—and his build was even more muscular than mine. It was rare to encounter anyone that big. In fact, it had only happened once in recent memory.

Recognition dawned on both of us in the same instant, and I exclaimed, "Sven!"

In the same instant, he blurted, "David!"

This startled the cat, who leapt out of his owner's arms. As he darted away, Everett called, "Come back, Phil!" To no one's surprise, this was totally ineffective.

While he hurried after the cat, I scrubbed my hands over my face and cringed at the memory of the night we met. I never thought I'd see him again, and I'd been happy about that. What were the chances we'd not only have a mutual friend, but that he'd end up as my temporary roommate? Clearly, the universe had a twisted sense of humor.

He had to feel as awkward about this as I did, so maybe he'd grab his shit, turn right around again, and go stay somewhere else. That idea perked me up a bit. To speed up this process, I went to help him find Phil.

The apartment was one long rectangle, with the living room and kitchen in the center, flanked by hallways on either side. The cat had run off to the left, and Everett was already searching the home office, so I continued past it to my bedroom.

When I crouched down and looked under the bed, a pair of yellow eyes stared back at me. I got up and called, "Found him." Everett joined me a moment later, and I stepped back and gestured at the cat's hiding place. "He's under there."

He dropped onto his belly and told the cat, "I know this has been a lot, so take your time, Phil. I'll be right here when you're ready to come out." Then he shifted around so he was sitting cross-legged on the area rug and asked me, "Is this my room?"

"It's mine, actually. Roger planned for you to use his bedroom, which is at the opposite end of the apartment. But I know this is weird, and I won't be offended if you decide to stay someplace else."

"I can't do that to Phil. He just spent all day cooped up in my SUV, after leaving his home behind. The last thing he needs is another drive and yet another unfamiliar place."

"No, you're right."

Everett looked up at me. "I know the last time we met was a train wreck, and it's definitely a surprise to see you again. But what happened back in February was nothing more than a series of accidents, right? It's not like you set out to?—"

"Of course not. I obviously didn't plan on any of that."

"Let's start over. I'm Everett Daley, but most people call me Ever." When we shook hands, his grip was firm, bordering on overly assertive.

"Tracy Garcia."

"Good to meet you, Tracy." He indicated our surroundings and asked, "Did you recently move in?"

"No. I've been here about two years."

"It's so empty."

Roger had stripped down his guest room before I moved in, under the assumption that I'd decorate it to suit my taste. But I'd left it exactly like I found it—with nothing but blank, gray walls, a gray-on-gray striped area rug, and a sleek, black bedroom set. The only decorative thing was the chrome lamp on the nightstand, which was Roger's.

All I said to that was, "I don't have a lot of stuff." It was too complicated to explain that no matter how friendly and welcoming Roger had been, this place always felt temporary. Actually, just about everyplace I'd ever lived had felt that way, so what was the point in trying to make it feel like home?

He just nodded. A few moments ticked by, and I asked, "Do you want some help bringing up the rest of your stuff?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I want to focus on Phil for now. Do you mind if I hang out in here until he's ready to come out from under the bed?"

"That's fine."

"Awesome. And is it okay if I spread some of his things throughout the apartment? I want this place to start to feel familiar to him."

"Do whatever you want." After another awkward pause, I told him, "There's actually somewhere I need to be, so I'll leave you to it. Your keys are on the kitchen counter, and I'll see you later."

"Oh. Okay. See you later, then."

With that, I plucked my denim jacket from the closet and fled. I obviously couldn't avoid Everett forever, but right now, I needed some time to process this totally unexpected turn of events.

Once I was out of the apartment, I sent a text to my friend Vee: Hey, is it too late to take you up on your offer of joining you for Sunday dinner?

Vee always chose talking over texting, so it was no surprise when the phone rang in my hand. As soon as I answered it, he exclaimed, "Of course it's not too late! Come on over. My housemates and I are about to begin happy hour."

"Great, thanks."

"You'd mentioned your new roommate was moving in today. You should bring him along."

"Another time," I said. "He's getting settled."

"What do you think of him?"

"He seems fine, but by some bizarre coincidence, we'd met before."

"Really? When?"

"We had the hookup from hell back in February."

"Awkward!"

"Definitely."

"You know I'm going to need all the juicy details, right?"

"I figured."

It felt like I'd known Vihaan Khatri forever, but it had actually been about six years. Vee and I had met while working at a resort on Catalina Island, and despite having nothing in common, we'd grown close. That was all down to him, because he was extremely outgoing and made friends everywhere he went.

When he told me he was moving to San Francisco a few weeks ago, I'd put him in touch with some acquaintances who had a room to rent in a funky pink Victorian near Dolores Park. He fit in perfectly and already considered his six housemates family.

As soon as I arrived at his house, Vee crushed me in a hug and exclaimed, "Good to see you, man!"

"Good to see you, too."

Once we let go of each other, he said, "Something's different."

"I'm overdue for a haircut."

He grinned and wiggled his thick, dark brows suggestively. "You should let it grow. I like you a little scruffy." He was a massive flirt, and I knew not to take anything he said seriously.

I glanced at him while I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack beside the door. Vee was literally and figuratively a very colorful person. His shaggy, black hair currently sported emerald green streaks, and he was wearing a red mesh T-shirt with pink camo cargo shorts. This look was completed with a pair of green flip flops and a lot of eclectic jewelry.

When I followed Vee into the living room, which was as colorful and eclectic as he was, his housemate Embry greeted me enthusiastically. So did Vee's little blue parakeet, Clementine. As soon as he spotted me, the bird shrieked, "What the fuck!" It was the only thing he ever said. Then he flew directly at my face.

I ducked instinctively, and he ended up landing on my shoulder. That made me twitchy, since I never knew when Clementine might decide to peck at something. But I let him stay there as I took a seat on one of the mismatched club chairs.

Embry was a cute little twink with a mop of bleached blond curls and a well-deserved reputation for being a walking disaster. He poured a drink from a pitcher on the coffee table and sloshed a little onto the area rug as he handed it to me. Then he offered me the charcuterie board and beamed with pride as he said, "I made it myself."

I probably would have been able to guess that, because it was an off-beat combination of string cheese, baby carrots, Skittles, and gum. After I declined, Vee got right to it by saying, "We're dying to hear about your new roommate and your hookup from hell."

He and Embry sat up straight on the couch with their full attention on me, like two kids waiting for story time. This was all pretty embarrassing, so I muttered, "Can I just say it was a disaster and leave it at that?"

Vee shook his head. "Absolutely not."

I glanced at Embry, who gave me an encouraging smile. I didn't know him very well, but he didn't seem like the judgmental type, so I said, "Okay, fine. I met this guy back in February on one of the hookup apps, and?—"

Vee asked, "Which one?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

"Anyway, we messaged back and forth for a while, and it was smoking hot. His photo was too, and?—"

"Face pic or dick pic?" That was from Embry.

"Neither. Anyway, I agreed to go to his hotel room, even though he's not my usual type." I took a sip of the drink in my hand, which turned out to be sangria, and continued, "It started off great."

Vee asked, "Did you kiss him?"

A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine as I remembered the way he'd grabbed me, pushed me against the wall, and claimed my mouth. I'd tried not to think about that night since then, so I'd almost forgotten how incredible those first moments had been.

My little audience was waiting for an answer, so I pushed the memory aside and cleared my throat. "We kissed when I first got there."

"Then what?"

All of this was way more information than I usually shared with people, but I knew Vee would keep asking embarrassing questions until he got the whole story out of me. "Then we went right to a blow job."

His next question was, "Were you giving or receiving?"

"Giving. Everything was going great, until he startled me."

Vee raised an eyebrow. "Startled you how?"

"He sneezed, but it was more of a yell."

Embry nodded. "I used to have a coworker who did that, and it always scared the crap out of me. Instead of a nice, little ah-choo, it was more like AH-PLAH!"

He shouted that last bit, which made the parakeet retreat to the safety of the fireplace mantel. I gestured at Embry and exclaimed, "Exactly! And when he did that, I reflexively bit down and?—"

Vee yelled, "Oh my god, you bit his dick off!"

Upon hearing that, the rest of his housemates ran in from the kitchen. Yolanda, who was a nurse, seemed highly concerned as she asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing!" My cheeks were burning. "I did bite him, but I didn't bite it off ."

Her wife JoJo asked, "Wait, who got bit?"

"Tracy was telling us about a hookup that happened a few months ago," Vee explained. "The guy with the bitten dick showed up today as his new roommate."

JoJo muttered, "Wow, embarrassing."

Embry asked, "What happened after you bit him?"

"It, um… it set off a whole chain reaction." My face had to be crimson by now.

Lark and his boyfriend Dylan squeezed in beside Vee and Embry, and Hal perched on the couch's arm while Yolanda and JoJo shared the remaining club chair. "Start from the beginning," Yolanda said.

Great, now I had seven people on the edge of their seats for story time. Vee was nice enough to provide a recap so I didn't have to repeat myself, and once he caught everyone up, he asked me, "How bad was the bite?"

"It didn't break the skin, but it was bad enough to make him yelp. He doubled over, and I hit him in the face with the back of my head as I straightened up. Then we stood up at the same time and sort of bounced off each other. He was wearing a tank top, and I tried to grab for something to steady myself as I fell backwards. I ended up tearing his shirt off before completely flattening the coffee table." I sighed, and finished by saying, "Anyway, he was obviously upset after all that, so I apologized and got the hell out of there. That was the last I saw of him, until this afternoon."

Everyone took a moment to process my story, and then Lark brushed his dark hair out of his big, brown eyes and said, "I can't quite picture how one thing led to another."

Embry got up and exclaimed, "I can show you! I tend to be a bit accident-prone, and it often leads to chain reactions like the one Tracy described." His housemates nodded in agreement and sat back to watch the expert's demonstration.

"Okay, so I'm Tracy, and you're Dick McBit," Embry told Vee, as he dropped to his knees in front of his housemate. "Here, hold this." He handed Vee a baby carrot from the charcuterie board, and Vee grinned and held it up. "So, everything's going great, when suddenly, McBit sneezes. AH-PLAH! Tracy's so startled that he bites down." Everyone flinched as Embry bit the baby carrot in half and chewed up what was in his mouth.

Then he continued, "So, McBit yells and doubles over from the pain, right? Double over, Vee." They both leaned down, and Embry pantomimed the head-butt in slow motion. "Tracy jerks back and probably smacks into this guy's forehead with the back of his skull. If it was directly in McBit's face, he would have broken his nose. There wasn't a lot of blood, was there Tracy?"

"Nope, no blood." I was glad everyone's attention was on Embry for now, instead of me.

"Good job not breaking his nose." Embry gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up and went back to his demonstration. "So, they both jump up at the same time, and we know the coffee table is right behind Tracy, because of what happens next."

He and Vee both stood up, and Embry bounced belly-to-belly off his housemate. Next, he pantomimed ripping off Vee's shirt and bent backwards in slow motion, like he was starring in The Matrix . He embellished it by flailing his arms and yelling, "Ahhhhhh!"

Once Embry was splayed out on the big, sturdy coffee table beside the snacks, Lark said, "Now I get it." Then he turned to me with wide eyes. "Damn, Tracy, and now you have to live with this guy? That's got to be embarrassing."

Vee asked me, "What did your new roommate have to say about all of this?"

"He said he knew it was an accident, and we should start fresh."

"It's good Dick's not being a dick about it," he said, in all seriousness.

"His name's not Dick. It's Ever Daley."

Vee looked shocked. "For real?"

I asked, "Do you know him?"

"If he's the Ever Daley, he's famous," Hal chimed in, as he tucked a strand of long, dark hair behind his ear. "I follow him on Instagram."

Now it was my turn to look surprised. "What are the chances?"

"Pretty good, actually. He has millions of followers on social media. I started following him because I'm into fitness, and he's a personal trainer who gives great advice." Hal was a willowy former model who still worked out like his career depended on it.

Vee grinned. "I follow him for the eye candy." He pulled his phone from his pocket, and after he scrolled for a few seconds, he turned the screen to me. "Is this him?" The photo was of my new roommate, smiling at the camera and holding his cat.

"Yeah, and that's Phil, who seems to have some kind of skin condition."

"Phil's supposed to look like that," Vee explained. "He's half-Siamese and half-Sphynx. You know, those hairless cats?"

"Why do you know that?"

"Because Phil's almost as famous as Ever. Well, not quite, but he does have over a million followers on Instagram."

"The cat has that many followers?" Vee nodded, and I asked, "Why?"

"Because he's hilarious! Ever does this thing where he photographs Phil in super awesome settings, like at Hollywood parties surrounded by celebrities. The cat always looks annoyed, no matter what's happening around him."

Vee tapped the screen and handed me his phone, which was displaying Phil's Instagram page. The most recent photo had been taken on the balcony of my apartment. Ever was smiling for the camera with the city's skyline as a backdrop, and the cat in his arms looked thoroughly unimpressed.

Suddenly, Yolanda and JoJo were interested. JoJo asked, "Are you talking about Phil-the-gremlin? I follow him on three different social media platforms!"

While several people started talking excitedly about a celebrity cat, of all things, I handed the phone back to Vee and muttered, "This is completely nuts."

Lark's boyfriend Dylan, who tended to be the most serious and reserved of all the housemates, told me, "If it's any consolation, I've never heard of this guy or his cat, either."

Vee tapped the screen a few times. "You're missing out, dude, because Tracy's new roommate is freakishly hot. Check this out." He panned his phone around, so everyone could see another picture of Ever. In this one, he was looking tan and sexy poolside at some tropical resort, wearing the smallest bathing suit I'd ever seen. It was little more than a neon yellow jock strap. I would have felt horribly exposed if I went out in public wearing something like that.

Embry snatched the camera and zoomed in. "Damn, he's incredible. Are you going to try to get with him while he's staying in your apartment, Tracy?"

"Definitely not."

Vee frowned at that. "But you said your hookup was hot at first, right?"

"Yeah, but it was meant to be a one-time thing. He's not even my type."

"You liked him enough to message him on that app, though."

I didn't try to explain I'd been craving something very specific that night. Ever had oozed alpha energy, and I'd wanted a taste of what it felt like to step out of that role for a change.

It had been a rush, but I had no intention of walking down that path again any time soon—not that it was even an option. Our hookup had been a disaster of monumental proportions, so there was no way Ever Daley would want anything to do with me.