When I signed up for the C-district dorms I didn't read the fine print. I don't remember seeing the tiny little words of uni-sex. You'd think I would have noticed the word sex, but I was stressed out. The fact that I was finally going to be free and paying at least two hundred dollars less than other dorms was plenty to get me to sign up.
I had reached my limit with making all the arrangements for school, moving, not to mention dealing with my father's nagging. He spent every day, from the time I graduated till the day I finally left the reservation trying to convince me to stay at home, even going as far as offering to pay for my gas if I stayed home and commuted to school. That was just fucking ridiculous. Seattle is over a hundred miles from La Push, and even that doesn't seem far enough from my father's judgmental frown and old fashioned thinking. If I have to listen to him ramble about how I should forget about school and "settle down with a nice Quileute boy," I was going to fucking scream.
He could keep the nice Quileute boys. I have my sights set on a career in journalism, photojournalism to be exact. Honestly, I don't really care as long as it gets me out of La Push and into the world. I have spent my whole life venturing no farther than a few miles from home, and I'm done with that claustrophobic existence. There is an entire world out there, and I want to see it all.
I stood in front of the towering, gray cement buildings consumed with the realization that I was really and truly in the outside world. I wasn't going to be living in my father's house, and I could do whatever the hell I wanted. No more stupid curfew, no more lectures on how I shouldn't swear so much, and no more of the constant fight to be myself. I could stay up, drink, and date whomever I wanted. This is what it was like to be an adult. So what if it meant I was going to be sharing my space with a couple of guys. I grew up with a pack of wild hellions back home, and I was sure college boys couldn't be any worse than the jackasses in La Push. I was ready to deal with whatever awaited me at the dorms.
Of course, all self-confidence and coherent thought drained right out of my head as the door opened, and I was greeted by two beautiful male faces. I remember thinking that I must have the wrong room or that I hit my head on the way up the stairs, because there was no way that guys that hot actually existed in real life. It's one thing to be roommates with two guys, but when they looked like male models...fuck me, it was intimidating.
"Hey!" An impossibly tall blond grinned and took my bags without even asking.
My neck pinched a little when I looked up at him, and I'm five feet, nine inches tall. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and boots. He had a tattoo of a heart with the letter M in the center of it on his right shoulder. I figured it must be for his mom. He turned around and carried my bags down the narrow hallway, showing off another tattoo in the shape of Texas, of all things, taking up most of the left side of his back.
"Hi, I'm Edward and that's Jasper. You must be the roomie," the equally tall, auburn haired guy said, reaching out his hand to me and drawing my attention from the tattooed, blond god.
His eyes were a startlingly brilliant shade of green that I had never seen before in real life. Strangely enough the little green bead in his eyebrow ring matched the color of his eyes perfectly. His ears were pierced too, two chrome rings dangle from each ear. I was a little thrown by his piercings. Sure, I knew that it was pretty common for guys to have piercings, especially in Seattle, but none of the guys on the rez had them. I wasn't even allowed to get my ear pierced till I was sixteen. The only guys that I've seen with piercings and tattoos for that matter are in movies or rap videos. I always thought that guys with piercings looked dangerous and kind of ugly, but Edward was the farthest thing from that. His lips seemed a little full for a guy. They looked really soft… and kissable too. His long, wavy hair, and delicate facial features made him look almost too pretty.
"Yeah," I stuttered like a brain dead moron.
I was so distracted by his looks that I lifted the wrong hand, and gave this pathetic backward handshake. He didn't seem to mind; he just smiled pleasantly and continued to hold the back of my hand as he pulled me inside. I felt ridiculous, standing there staring at his face while he closed the door behind me. It actually was kind of sweet how he continued to cradle my hand in his palm while I stared at him like a starstruck idiot.
"Ed quit dazzling the girl and come on," the blond said, and I hoped I wasn't blushing.
"Blow me, Jasper," Ed laughed, pulling me down the narrow hallway.
"You keep sweet talkin' me like that, baby, and I just might," Jasper replied with a twang that quickly explained his tattoo.
"I'd hate to make all your other boyfriends jealous," Edward countered, releasing my hand to swipe at the back of Jasper's head.
"Oh, Edward, sweetheart, you are askin' for some trouble." Jasper dropped my bags, spun around, and tackled Edward.
They went careening into the wall and tumbled to the floor in a ball of thrashing arms and legs. Edward made a strangled howling sound, and Jasper whooped with laughter that made him sound like a braying donkey. It reminded me of my little brother, Seth, and his idiotic friends, except I never had fantasies about them wrestling naked...with oil. Yes, naked oil wrestling would be perfect.
After another five minutes of their horseplay, I finally got bored with fantasizing while I waited for them to stop and stuck my fingers in my mouth to whistle. It was sharp and louder than I had intended. I usually only used that whistle outside when I had to call Seth and his friends for dinner. The sound echoed in the small hallway and left my ears ringing, but at least it got the boys' attention.
"Sorry to interrupt the foreplay, but is this my room?" I pointed at the door on my left.
Jasper released Edward from his chokehold and gave me a smirk. "I like her."
He continued to stare at me while he stood up and dusted himself off. While Edward coughed a little and replied to my question, "That's the bathroom. I'll show you to your room."
"Here, sweetness," Jasper said, helping Edward to stand, only to elbow him hard in the stomach. "No need to bother yourself; I'll see to the lady."
"Cocksucker," Edward choked out and tumbled back to his knees.
I suppose I should have tried to help him, but I was distracted by Jasper. He walked toward me, giving me a knee-weakening smirk, and stopped right in front of me. Stop staring at his mouth! I kept internally screaming at myself, but it was no use. I just hoped I wasn't drooling out the side of my mouth.
"This is your room," he said, pivoting on one foot and tapping the tip of his cowboy boot against the door on my right.
"We're neighbors," Edward announced from the floor.
Pulling my eyes away from Jasper's ridiculously sexy boots, I glanced at Edward who was struggling to his feet, while lifting my bags. His face was flushed, and he was smiling. I immediately felt bad for not helping him, but I could still feel Jasper's presence next to me. His close proximity was paralyzing.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Cool," I said, trying to match Edward's smile and feeling a little dizzy from all the attention.
It's not that I'm not used to being around guys, even handsome ones, but most are either relatives or might as well be. That's the drawback of growing up in a small community - no mystery or romance to guys who you've known most of your life. It doesn't matter how hot a guy is, when you can remember how he peed his pants on the first day of kindergarten, you can never really see him as sexy. Poor Quil had grown up to be kind of cute, but he would forever be Pee Pee McGee to me.
"You need to unlock it with your key," Jasper whispered into my ear and brushed his finger over the back of my hand.
"Right," I stuttered and dig in my pocket for my key.
I finally got the door open and took a look inside. The room was huge – at least twice the size of my room back home. The single bed, four-drawer dresser, and small desk looked tiny in the giant room. It made me feel small and a little unsteady. I stared in awe, my sexy roommates all but forgotten.
"It's huge," I muttered to myself.
"Yeah, it is," Jasper said, giving me a wink and leaning in the doorway next to me.
Before I could respond, Edward walked up and gave Jasper a hard shove, sending him tumbling forward into my room. Jasper quickly recovered his balance and flipped off Edward before dropping down on the bare mattress.
"These used to be double occupancy, but the guidelines stipulate that we all have to have our own rooms in the uni-sex dorms," Edward said, picking up my bags in one hand and grabbing my wrist to lead me into the room.
I stared at the bare, white walls and wide window covered with bland, ivory colored blinds. It was a giant blank canvas waiting for me to fill it. My mind spun with the possibilities.
"What's your name, beautiful?" Jasper's voice drew my attention down to him lounging on my bed.
He looked at home, lying on his side, absently stroking the bare mattress. I raised my eyes to his face, in an effort not to stare at his bare chest, and caught him waggling his eyebrows at me. That was it. I was overwhelmed by all the male attention, seeing my huge room, and realizing I was truly free of my father. My brain short circuited, and I began to laugh, loudly. Jasper's smile evaporated in an instant, but I couldn't stop myself. In fact, I just laughed harder. The tension and nervous energy dissolved as my body shook with the effort to control my hysterics.
"Leah," I finally answered between giggles.
"Welcome home, Leah!" Edward slid his arm around my shoulder and began to laugh along with me.
"Yeah, welcome," Jasper mumbled, leaping up from the bed to tackle Edward to the floor and nearly knocked me over in the process.
I collapsed onto my bed as they wrestled on the floor of my room. I watched them and continued to giggle like an idiot. My room, my bed, my life – I loved the sound of it. I stretched out, getting comfortable, and watched the boys roll on the floor like idiots. If this was what life on my own was going be like, I was pretty sure I could get used it.
That was four months ago, but it feels like a lifetime has passed. I'm not nearly as starstruck by the boys anymore - that kind of happens after you see guys fart on each other, and you have to remind them for the millionth time not to leave dirty clothes all over the bathroom floor. In some ways, it's like I've never left home. Boys.
Don't get me wrong, Edward and Jasper are both gorgeous, but they're my friends now; that makes fantasizing about them naked kind of awkward. Not that I don't still do it on occasion. I'm only human and still very fucking single. Ugh!
I'm more comfortable with them now that we've had time to get to know each other. Edward and I especially have become close friends. With his help, I've managed to pull a decent GPA for the fall quarter. He's taking Classic Lit with me and has promised to help me with Calculus next semester. I'm so lucky he is smart and willing to help me out. It also doesn't hurt that he has either already taken or is taking the same classes I am, even though he's not officially an English major.
In fact, technically he is a culinary arts major, but he wants to be a writer. His father insisted he get a degree in something he could make money with, hoping Edward would be a business major. Edward had his own plans, and they aren't about to be derailed by his overbearing father. Needless to say, we have a lot in common in that department. He plans to be a food critic and to write books about culinary history on the side. It sounds fun. I know Edward is going to be an absolute success, because he is a genius in the kitchen.
He's always doing experimenting in the kitchen. He goes to the farmer's market down on Ravenna once a week and picks up a strange new vegetable to cook for us. I don't know how he does it, but he has a talent for making everything taste heavenly. I hate turnips, but Edward can transform them into light, mouthwatering slices of heaven on your tongue. All that talent, and looks to boot, should give Edward one hell of a big ego, but he's really humble.
He's also kind of my best friend. We hang out a lot, because we're studying all the fucking time. His easy-going nature puts me at ease, and he is a great listener. I've always thought I was kind of quiet, or at least I was back home, but Edward can get me jabbering for hours about nothing. He listens and smiles, commenting from time to time, but he never tells me I'm talking too much, even when it's three in the morning and he is obviously tired. I don't know what it is about him; he is just so easy to be around.
Jasper on the other hand is the bane of my existence. I mean we are totally friends, too, but that kind of makes it worse. At the beginning of the semester, when I had to go to the mandatory self-defense class for female freshmen, Jasper insisted he and Edward tag along. Ten minutes into the class, he interrupted the instructor and ended up taking over. Edward and I cracked jokes that Jasper just wanted a chance to rub up against all the girls, but he was pretty serious. He showed the girls how to take down attackers twice their size with two fingers and how to turn everyday shit, like your car keys, into weapons. He even insisted that we never jog alone on campus, encouraging us to pair off with workout buddies then volunteering to be mine. By the end of the class, every girl was crushing on him, including me.
Jasper is the oldest brother to three sisters, and I think he kind of sees me like another one of his little sisters, which is sweet and fucking humiliating at the same time. He is gorgeous, charming, and a great guy all around. He is also an incorrigible flirt. I swear he knows I'm attracted to him, and he gets off on flirting with me until I'm completely flustered. I know he isn't being serious about it. He sees me as friend, like Edward. Jasper could have any girl he wants and often does, and it's very obvious he is way out of my league.
On paper, Jasper is an art major, though his real major is hockey. 'Slapshot Whitlock' is the Badgers' star player, and everyone at UW worships the ground he walks on. No matter where he goes on campus, some dumb ass is calling out that stupid nickname and giving him a high-five. Jasper takes it all in stride, accepting the attention with a bright smile and shrugging off the praise with irresistible Texas charm.
Of course, that only makes people crazier for him. Not that I blame them - he has the kind of story that begs to be written. His grandfather moved to the states from Alberta, Canada shortly after Jasper's mother was born. When she had little Jasper, Grandpa Roberts bought him skates and a stick and drove ten miles to the nearest indoor rink every Sunday after church. At the age of six it was obvious to everyone that Jasper was a natural. Edward showed me the home movies that Jasper's mother sent him last year. We use them to embarrass Jasper when he's being an ass about doing his chores.
I don't know much about hockey, but even I am blown away when I see him in action. It's not surprising that the Canadian league has been courting him since high school, but he's hell bent on finishing college before he goes pro, if he does at all. He's a really talented artist, and sometimes it seems like that is where his passion lies.
No matter how much schoolwork he has or how late he stays at practice, Jasper never fails to paint every night. His room is his studio with a tiny corner reserved for his bed. The rest is filled with easels and painting supplies, or at least the stuff that isn't scattered all over the bathroom. He has tried to keep that mess contained after Edward tripped over a bucket of brushes in the shower, and cut his forehead on the glass door.
I don't mind the paint splattered on the floor or finding crusty brushes in the bathroom sink. It's worth it, because his paintings are breathtaking. He creates these intricate designs, and at first, they look like a jumble of unassociated images. A woman with a flower in her hair. A wrinkled hand holding a seed. An infant cradled in the center of a rose. Then when you stand back and look at them flow together, and...feel, well, usually I'm unsure of what exactly I feel. Mostly, I want to cry or just stare at it for hours.
I try to not bug him too much with poking around the piles of completed paintings that are stacked in his closet. Though if given the chance, I would spend a week there just staring at all of them. He is an incredible artist, which is why I asked him to design my first tattoo.
"You're going to regret it; I promise you," Edward groans, cradling the empty vodka bottle in his arms while draping his lanky body over his side of the couch.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, sweetheart," Jasper chuckles behind me, tossing a crumpled piece of paper over my head and hitting Edward's temple.
Edward barely flinches as the paper ball rolls over his face and drops to the floor. He is so drunk he can barely keep his eyes open, but he is still trying to talk me out of getting a tattoo. Sometimes he can be too fucking sensible. Jasper often teases him about it, calling him Mister Sensible. Edward just rolls his eyes and continues to lecture us.
It's silly and pointless to try and stop me - when I want to do something, even if it's stupid, I do it. I spent too many years doing what I was told, and I'm not wasting another day on that, at least not when it comes to silly shit like tattoos. Besides, Edward talks a tough game, but he changes his look all the time. Sure, he doesn't have tattoos, but he has four piercings on his face alone.
Edward says he got both of his ears pierced in high school. Jasper claims he convinced Edward to get the tongue bar. Apparently he has other piercings, but neither of the guys will confirm where the mystery piercings are located. What I do know is, when Edward wears thin t-shirts the circular shape of his nipple rings is unmistakable.
"A tattoo is so permanent," Edward speaks again after a few long minutes of silence, further convincing me he was halfway to passing out.
"Yeah, cause piercing your dick isn't permanent, Mister Sensible," Jasper counters, getting up from his chair and grabbing my empty cup from the floor.
"I knew it!" I jump up from the couch to point an accusing finger at Edward and slam into Jasper sending us tumbling to the floor.
Jasper is lying on his back, both our empty drink cups in his hands, and a look of amused shock on his face. I'm sprawled over his lower body, my face hovering right above his stomach where his shirt is riding up. I can see the soft, dark-gold hair that circles his belly button and disappears beneath his belt buckle.
"Whoops," is all I can manage to say as I stare at the giant red rooster on his belt buckle.
"I do declare, you look positively radiant when you blush, Miss Clearwater," Jasper rasps in a low, sultry southern accent that makes me think of hoop-skirts and iced tea.
One thing that hasn't changed much is that I still get completely flustered when Jasper turns his attentions on me, but I've learned to cope. Okay, I'm totally full of shit. My coping is just a sad bag of awkward tactics, encouraging him to tease me more. It's like he is flirting with me because he knows how much I like him, but I know it isn't true. Jasper flirts with everyone, even Edward. It's just part of his personality and charm.
Most of the time I laugh at Jasper's flirty comments like they're a big joke, or I just ignore them all together. In my weaker moments, when I'm tempted to jump on him and fuck his brains out, I use Edward as a shield. I will run to Edward and play like I'm madly in love with him. Edward plays along, and melodramatically claims he shall not take my virtue until we are properly wed. Usually, this makes Jasper groan and leave the room. Lately, he has taken to staying and playing it out with us. Trying to woo me away from Edward, or even worse, he jokingly suggests we have a threesome. Both Edward and I usually share an eye roll and leave the room when that comes up. Please note: that most of this happens after we've consumed a considerable amount of alcohol. We are not theater majors.
When I'm really desperate and Jasper is laying it on thick, which usually involves his accent, I think he knows what it does to me, specifically what it does to my "lady parts," as my grandmother calls them. I swear all it takes is a long twangy vowel slide from between his lips, and I'm fucking wet. It is so embarrassing that I usually panic and run over to smash my face into Edward's chest like a little kid hiding from the boogieman.
I do it so often it's become my trademark move. Edward has even named it. "Oh look, Leah's assumed the crash position."
Lame, I know, but it's better than humping Jasper's leg like a horny dog. I just don't have the verbal skills to spar with him, which is pretty sad since I'm an English major.
"Someone tell Rhett Butler he lost the fucking war," Edward comments and immediately snorts at his own joke.
I immediately dissolve into giggles and quickly roll off of Jasper. Without thinking, I run over and jump on top of Edward, seeking his comfort and hoping that the color has faded from my cheeks. He grunts at the impact, his eyes flying open to fix on me. He smiles and flops an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his body.
"I do assure you that the South will rise again," Jasper says, as he gets to his feet and playfully knocks Edward on the top of his head with one of the cups.
"Ouch," Edward mumbles like a pouty child, tightening his hold around me.
"Choking me," I gasp, pulling his arm from around my throat and sitting up.
"Where you going?" Edward mumbles softly, his eyes are already closed and his breathing is visibly slowing down.
"Shhh. Rest sleepy boy," I mutter, leaning over to kiss his temple. He nuzzles his nose into my neck in return.
He mumbles something, but I can't make it out. It's fucking adorable and part of me wants to snuggle back into his arms, but slamming of the cabinets in the kitchen brings me back to reality quick. Edward's practically snoring next me, which leaves me all alone with Jasper. Shit! It's ridiculous that I'm this freaked about being alone with someone whom I consider a close friend, but I can't help it. I really like Jasper, and I know he doesn't feel the same about me. I'm not about to let him know how I feel, but it's difficult, because, Jesus Christ on a cracker, does he make it hard not to turn into a drooling puddle at his feet.
I see other girls do it all the time, and it is fucking annoying. Every time we go out, Jasper gets swarmed by these brainless, panting groupies that fawn all over him. Edward calls them Hockey Hoochies, and he even created a whole game where we rate them. Scores are based on lack of clothing, excessive giggling at Jasper's lame jokes, and cliché tattoos. They get double points for spray-on tans and belly button rings.
The prizewinner last quarter was Harmony Kendall. She wears pink, almost exclusively, has a butterfly tattoo on her lower back, two belly button rings, and speaks in text message abbreviations. I didn't believe people could actual say "OMG" out loud and mean it seriously until I witnessed it live.
It's annoying to see girls, who must've been at least marginally intelligent enough to get into college turn into these giggling, inarticulate airheads just because Jasper gives them a wink and calls the darlin'. Ugh! I fucking hate that shit.
I can handle him calling me sweetness and honey, because he uses those on Edward too. But darlin'… no way. Jasper only says it when he's trying to hook up with dumb tramps at that bar. He purposefully exaggerates his accent when he says it and ends up sounding like some ridiculous stereotype of a southern jackass. It drives me nuts, because it's not him, not the real him anyway.
He has only ever used it with me once. I can still remember Edward nearly choking on his food, while he laughed at Jasper's expression of shock after I slammed my steak knife into the table so hard that it stuck two inches deep in the wood. I couldn't help myself. I was just so angry. I thought he was treating me like one of those bar girls, and it really hurt my feelings. It's bad enough he sleeps with those brainless bimbos. I would not stand for him categorizing me with them.
Thank god for house rules. Edward and Jasper agreed upon rules last year, when they were roommates. Like, no overnight guests (AKA booty calls). Edward explained that this prevents awkward morning-after conversations, and we don't have to worry about being kept up all night with the sounds of each other humping. Not that I have anyone to bring home, but I like that rule, mostly because it means I don't have to see the skanks Jasper fucks.
"Leah, I need your help," Jasper's voice jolts me from my thoughts, dragging me back to the uncomfortable reality of being alone with him.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. After a second, I finally open them and stand up. As I walk around the side of the couch, Edward shifts a little and lets out a little whimpered snore. I stop and comb my fingers through his messy hair. We just cut it a few weeks ago, and it's already turning into a shaggy mess.
"Stop mooning over Sleeping Beauty and get in here, girl," Jasper calls again from the kitchen.
I reluctantly pull my hand out of Edward's hair and turn to face Jasper on my own.
Author's note: Yeah, it's a cliff hanger, I know I'm an asshole. Now, you know too. ;)
Thanks to my fabulous beta Jessypt as well as my wonderful proofreaders Chele681 and Mjinaspen.