Chapter 6

SIX

RORY

"So, how's the new roommate sitch?" Lucy asks as she, Jackson and I Facetime that night. I'm sitting on my bed, holding the phone in front of me and I can't stop smiling. The way Lucy's grinning I know Jackson told her who my roommate is.

"It's good," I say.

"You guys boning?" she teases.

"No, we're not. God, not that I don't want to, though. He's so hot, and honestly, incredibly sweet, too. I don't think I'm ready for that, though. Not after the other night." Lucy and Jackson still don't know about all the hurtful things Zach said to me when we were having sex, and just how much it affected me. He would complain that I wasn't in the mood enough, but he demeaned me so much when we did fuck, that I got self conscious and didn't want to have sex nearly as much after that. That just made him even more irritated. I felt like I was always having to be someone else in bed with him, and he was so in control I was just there for him, to help him get off. It was never about the two of us, and it certainly was never about me. I want to be with someone who cherishes me, who worships me, who makes me feel safe.

"It's too bad I'm a lesbian or I'd be all over that," she says, and I glare at her.

"Don't you touch my Parker," I say, and she and Jackson both laugh.

"Your Parker, huh?" Jackson says. "I think our little Rory has a crush on his roomie."

I flush. "Shut up. I have to go. You two are awful."

They laugh again and I grin, then say goodnight, and it's not until I'm lying in bed a while later, starting to doze off, that I realize I enjoyed myself so much this evening, I forgot all about Zach being a jerk to me earlier in the bookstore.

It's Sunday, and Parker and I have been roommates for a week now. Honestly I've enjoyed it so much I find myself missing him when I don't see him for an entire day because our schedules don't line up. We have some evenings together and a few mornings, but most of the time we either don't see each other at all or we're running past each other as the other is coming in or out of the apartment. He has been doing pretty much all the cooking, while I do the cleanup, and it's amazing. He's found multiple recipes that he actually enjoys and that I can eat, too. And he's even watched a couple of documentaries with me and enjoyed them. One was on Lucille Ball, whom I absolutely love, and Parker found it fascinating. He'd never even heard of her, which I was blown away by. The other was on serial killers, which may have been a mistake as neither one of us slept that night, it turns out. And after realizing it, we decided that if we ever can't sleep again we'll see if the other is awake too.

Part of me is tempted to watch another creepy documentary just so I have an excuse to climb into Parker's bed and cuddle. Being wrapped up in those strong arms would be amazing, and I bet I would sleep like a baby.

Right now, though, I'm in my bedroom, trying not to lose my mind as he and his buddies hoot and holler at the tv, commenting on whatever ball game they are watching. I don't know anything about sports, except that they are loud and I suck at them. The real problem, though, is that between the tv being at full volume, (or at least it feels like it is), and their voices carrying through the apartment, I'm about to either throw up, or cry, even with my earplugs in.

I did okay for the first hour, but it's been two hours now and my brain feels like it's going to explode. I've got a headache and I'm feeling so overwhelmed I'm starting to shake. My brain is a foggy mess and I couldn't work on homework if I wanted to, which I don't. I could go to the library but I'm exhausted and I honestly just want to relax at home in my pjs and watch tv or read for a bit before going to bed.

I hate this. I hate that I can't be normal and just deal with it, but I've never been able to handle settings like this for long without getting overstimulated. Noise is not my friend. I even have to barricade myself in my room after a couple of hours at home with my little sisters, or leave the house all together and go somewhere quiet so I can get a break, because no matter how much I love them, they're so rambunctious. Mom and Dad realized it pretty early on and they take them out when I need some quiet time if they can. But I hate inconveniencing other people when they're just living.

I groan and roll over on my bed with my hands over my ears, just praying it will be over soon, and a second later there's a tap on my shoulder. I start and roll over.

"Hey, freckles," Parker says as I scramble off the bed. He eyes me, then the bed, and I sigh when I remember that my lights are also dimmed to help me shut out some of the stimulus, as well as my curtains being drawn. Not totally weird because it is dark out, but I can tell he knows something is up.

"You okay?" he asks. "Are you trying to sleep?" He looks at me, still fully dressed. "We haven't seen you in a while. The guys are wondering where you are."

"I just don't feel really well," I tell him. There's a loud shout from down the hall and I can't help flinching.

Parker raises an eyebrow. "Are we being too loud? Is that why you're in here?" he looks around, "like this?"

I shake my head, even as it throbs, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver. I feel lightheaded and my skin prickles, like tiny little needles all over my body.

"Hey, you okay?" he says, more worry in his voice now as he steps closer and grips my shoulders. I can't help whimpering and covering my ears when another shout echoes down the hall.

"I'll be right back," he tells me, then bolts out of the room. Shit, I've ruined everything. His friends are going to hate me. He's going to hate me. I'm such a fuck up. I climb back in bed and pull the blankets up over my head as tears slide down my cheeks.

A second later I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Parker standing there with a glass of water. I blink and sit up, wiping my tears away. I take the drink and the Advil he hands me and swallow them down.

"They're gone," he says, tapping his ear, and I remove the earplugs, only then realizing that the noise is nonexistent now.

"Where did they go?" I ask. "What about the game?"

"I asked them to leave. I couldn't let them stay knowing how upset you were." I shiver for a whole new reason when he strokes his fingers through my hair, and I have to keep myself from melting against that big, broad chest.

"I'm sorry," I mumble as another tear escapes. My breath hitches when he swipes it away with his thumb.

"Don't apologize, little dude," he says. "You should be able to feel comfortable in your own home. I just wish you would have said something. You looked miserable."

"I didn't want to cause problems," I tell him.

"Why not? Your needs matter, too. I know we can get loud. We can watch the games somewhere else from now on."

"Your friends must hate me," I mumble, and he chuckles.

"Nah, they could never. They're cool. Just don't suffer in silence next time, okay? I don't like upsetting you."

I nod. "Thank you." I'm expecting him to leave, but my eyes widen when he makes himself comfortable on my bed, his back against the pillow that he's propped up, then crosses those big, muscular legs and pats his lap.

"Lay down," he says. I do, not really knowing why other than the idea of resting my head in Parker's lap is very appealing, and when I've got my legs stretched out in front of me and his scent surrounding me, I begin to relax. I almost fucking purr when his soft strong fingers start to massage my scalp, my eyes closing on instinct. "This okay?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah, it feels amazing." His fingers are on both sides of my head, rubbing, stroking, moving to my temples, and behind my ears, and God, every muscle in my body liquifies as I moan. I can't fucking help it.

He chuckles and I flush. The pad of his thumb moves over the center of my scalp and tension oozes out of me as a shiver races down my spine.

"Fuck." I'm so relaxed I might fall asleep. I open my eyes and realize my dick is starting to tent my sweats, and I don't even care. I look up at him and grin lazily. My shaking has disappeared, the tingles dancing across my skin are gone, and my head feels infinitely clearer. I think the Advil is starting to kick in, too.

"Better?" he says with a chuckle. I nod. He leans over then and presses a kiss to my forehead. God, I want those full, chapped lips on mine again, but before I can even think about more, he's lifting me up and sliding out from under me.

"I'm gonna get you an ice pack and then I think we should head to bed." He leaves and I sigh. When he returns, I take the ice pack and then slide under the blankets and slip my kitty kat sleep mask over my head before lying down. I want so badly to ask him to stay, to sleep in my bed with me, to cuddle, but I can't, because my bed is tiny and because I don't want to be too needy. So I say goodnight and he shuts the door behind him.

PARKER

Fuck, I swear I try to fall asleep, but I'm so damn horny from touching Rory and having him purring like a kitten in my lap, and letting out the sweetest little moans and whimpers, watching his cute little dick twitching and perking up as I ran my fingers through his hair, I can't get my own dick to calm down. I genuinely just wanted to help him after seeing him so out of sorts, but apparently my body didn't get the memo. It's like everything is amped up times a billion when I get close to him. Leaving was the hardest thing, but I was going to be very hard, very soon if I didn't, and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. My dick would have been pressed against his head.

Crab nuggets. Why is he so fucking cute? I don't know, but I've been lying here with a raging hard on for over an hour and I can't do it anymore. I slide my hand into my boxers and let out a breath when I come in contact with my very hard dick. It's been leaking like crazy and I have a sizable wet spot. I use my precum and slick myself up, moaning as my hand moves up and down my shaft. I spread my legs and grip myself harder, biting my lip as I picture Rory's adorable face, his button nose, and those wild curls. My breathing picks up and I reach down to tug on my balls, making my back arch. "Fuck," I gasp. God that feels good, and fantasizing about my roomie has me aching to come. I remember what it was like to have his dick in my mouth that night at the club, the way he gripped my hair, the way his pert little ass felt in my hands when I gripped it as he thrust into me. The taste of him exploding on my tongue.

I bite my lip harder as I let out a stifled groan and spray all over my hand, soaking my boxers in my release.

Damn, little rabbit, look what you do to me.