Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Present Day (Chapter Fifteen) Tuesday

"Do you have a good relationship with your parents?"

It was an innocent question.  A normal question.  But I had to take a deep breath.  I sat on the very edge of my bed and forced myself to answer honestly.

"They died."

"I'm sorry, Tucker."

"Let's talk about something else," I suggested in as light a voice as I could manage.

"Sure," he agreed quickly. "How about if we talk about where your roommate's phone might be hiding."

I smiled. "I'll dial, you listen for the ring and search through her stuff."

"Do you really think she'd want me rifling through her underwear?"

"Probably not. And she probably wouldn't want me to give you her number either."

"Oh?"

I shook my head. "She just doesn't like you, I'm afraid."

"She doesn't even know me," Joey protested.

"No, she doesn't," I agreed. "But she thinks she knows guys like you. And that's enough."

"And what exactly did a guy like me do to a girl like her that makes her hate us all equally?"

"He married her. Then knocked up his secretary."

He tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "Hmm. And what did a guy like me do to a girl like you?"

"Same thing."

Joey frowned. "He knocked up his secretary?"

Then I did something that surprised me.  I laughed.  So hard that I thought if I didn't contain it, the girls whose room was beside ours might start banging on the door.  I covered my mouth with my hands as I tried to hold it in.

"She wasn't his secretary," I managed to get out in between giggles. "She looked more like a hooker, actually. And God help him if she got pregnant."

Joey tapped his chin. "See, now I'm insulted."

"Why?"

"Because your roommate thinks that I'm the kind of guy who'd sleep with a hooker."

"Who knows what a guy like you would or wouldn't do?" I teased.

He grinned. "You know what we need right now?"

"If you say a hooker or a secretary…I'm leaving."

"Well, I was going to suggest a hooker dressed as a secretary, but I'm assuming that's out of the question, too."

"Ha. Ha."

"So what we need instead is tea."

"Tea?" I examined his face and decided he was being utterly serious.

"Tea heals all wounds."

"Hmm. Not that I'm doubting you, but how many times do you know of - personally, I mean - that tea has healed the broken heart of a girl who's boyfriend slept with hooker?"

"Is your heart still broken?"

I sighed, too tired to lie. "I didn't think it was, but then I saw Mark." 

"And he looked good enough to forgive? Maybe you do need more than tea."

"No. I mean, yeah, he looked good. Grown up. Different than when we went out."

Joey stiffened, and his eyes went dark.  Was he jealous?  I covered a smile at the thought.

"I just wasn't expecting it to hurt like that," I admitted.

"Do you want me to kick his ass?" Joey offered.

I laughed. "Kind of. But how about we try the tea method first. Do you have a specific request, your highness? I believe our kitchen has a vast selection."

"How about chamomile?"

"Let me see what I can do."

I managed to stand up without tripping over Joey's legs, and exited the room quietly.  I made my way to kitchen area, and started digging through the cupboards in search of chamomile.  As I set up the cups with one tea bag each, and plugged the kettle in, my mind wandered.

Joey Fox, playboy extraordinaire, son of Gretchen and Holland Fox, local millionaires, is sitting on the floor in my room. Waiting for a cup of chamomile tea. Because he wants to be my friend. How weird is that?

I was so distracted that I didn't even notice as the water began to boil and the kettle let out a shrill whistle.  I jumped a little at the sound.

I filled the cups quickly, grabbed some cookies from an open package with Liandra's name on it, and placed everything on a plate so I could carry it all easily back to my room.

"Here you go," I called quietly as I pushed the door open. "Chamomile and cookies…"

I trailed off as I realized Joey was no longer sitting on my floor.  He was lying on his side with his back to the wall.  On my bed.

"Joey?" I whispered. 

He didn't stir.  I put the plate down on the floor and leaned over him.

"Joey," I said a little more loudly.

Except for the rise and fall of his chest, he remained still.  I watched the rhythmic movement of his breathing, and it made me sleepy, too.

You are not thinking about climbing into bed with that boy.

I shook my head, thinking that my subconscious sounded an awful lot like my roommate.  I glanced over at her bed.  No space there.  I looked down at the floor.  No way was I lying down there.

"What other choice do I have?" I wondered out loud.

I didn't even bother to acknowledge the logical part of my brain that argued against my conclusion.  

I sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed beside Joey's knees and waited for him to notice.  He shuffled just a little closer to the wall, as if he knew that I was there and that he had to make space for me.

Probably because he's used to having to make room for girls in his bed.

I pushed aside the jealous thought forcefully and stretched my body out beside his, careful not to touch him.  After a few moments, Joey murmured something in his sleep and put an arm around me.  I went utterly still, barely breathing.  I was sure that any second he would wake up and realize he was wrapped around me.  Instead, he stroked my arm lightly and parted my legs with his knee.  I stifled a desire-filled moan that threatened to rip from my throat as he settled himself intimately against me, and wondered how the hell he was making me feel this was while he was still asleep.  My whole body was on fire, and I didn't think that I would ever be able to go to sleep myself.

I lifted his heavy arm and rolled over so my back was pressed against him instead.  It was no less of a turn-on, but at least I was able to inhale carefully, and relax slightly.  Pretty soon, my breaths matched the rhythm of his perfectly, and I drifted off, utterly content.