Filling Up My Roommates Novels & Stories

Letting myself fall back into his bed like it meant something. But then I smiled softly. Controlled. Safe. “I can’t,” I said, adjusting the strap of my duffel bag on my shoulder. “I need to check on my roommate. She’s one moment from dying of boredom. Probably already talking to plants and naming them after her exes.” Bruce’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flickered. Not anger. Not hurt. Something else. Possession, maybe. Or suspicion. “Roommate,” he repeated. I shrugged. “She’s dramatic. And she’s been alone in the apartment for three days. I’d rather not come home to glitter bombs and empty tequila bottles.”

My smile vanished instantly, and instead, red had taken over my face. “I wonder if roommates also beg each other to have sex with them when they’re drunk?” He proceeded. “Not to mention - be mad when they’re denied of it?” I narrowed my eyes at him, “Key word here is drunk. I was drunk out of my mind when I did that so you can’t hold that against me.” “I’m not, I’m just stating how roommates behave. Lusting after each other, making out at friend’s party, demanding sex - how to be roommates 101. Maybe we should write a book about it.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a smile that didn’t belong on my lips as I stepped in. Three of my roommates Lena, Margo, and Callie were sprawled across their beds, half-dressed, doing makeup, passing dresses between them. The room smelled like perfume and glitter. “Oh hey,” I greeted softly, clutching my books tighter against my chest. None of them looked up. Lena was busy curling her hair, Callie was fixing her lipstick in the mirror, and Margo was on the bed typing furiously into her phone, giggling every two seconds.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, pet.” “What do you want?” “I guess he told you. We’re going to be roommates.” “I wouldn’t put it that way.” “So how would you put it?” “We’ll be sharing a condo. Separate rooms.” “If you shared a two-bedroom place with anybody else, wouldn’t you call them your roommate?”

Because the fridge is always full? Because the kids are taken care of? At this point, we’re roommates, and not even friendly ones. Not the kind that ask how your day was or offer to cook dinner. We just exist in the same space. I finish the bottle and head downstairs for another. I glance outside, no headlights, no familiar minivan. I grab the bottle, go back to the couch, and turn on N*****x. I don’t care what it is. British Bake Off. Stranger Things. Some random series I’ll never finish.

I asked. “Let’s see...” my roommate thought for a moment. ”There’s us, the med school, the law school, the teachers’ college, the culinary institute, and some kind of arts academy that’s supposed to be tiny and super elite. The park’s a great place to meet people,” he added with a grin. “Yeah,” I nodded. ”I saw someone there today too. But I didn’t have the nerve to say anything,” I laughed. — I kept up my habit from last year—reading through the day’s material every evening—so it wasn’t overwhelming. I knew I had a class with Uncle Steve midweek, but I was still surprised when I came back from swimming and found my roommates studying like mad.

he said, cutting me off. "Wh... what? Your room is occupied and..." "Not anymore. My roommates vacated because they didn't want to be associated with me anymore. It's perfect. We can share the room." My brows furrowed. It was perfect. I wouldn't have to hide in the library especially with bathing and changing, but I also would be walking right into trouble. On one hand, I would be fulfilling Alpha Kyran's wish, but on the other hand, Eros... "Are you worried about Alpha Eros?"

The box was warm between them. “See? This is nice.” Jess grabbed a slice. “Roommates eating together, not secretly hating each other.” “Do people usually secretly hate their roommates?” “Have you met people?” Jess pointed her slice. “My cousin’s roommate in Ohio State used her toothbrush to clean the toilet. Didn’t tell her for three months.” Maya’s slice stopped halfway to her mouth. “That’s illegal.” “Right?” Jess shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m a good person. I’ll even let you borrow my stuff. Just ask first. And don’t use my toothbrush for anything except teeth.”

The seventh day finally arrived. I was restless the entire time and could not focus at work. Winston, my colleague, noticed my condition and asked in concern, “What’s wrong? You look horrible.” “It’s nothing. I haven’t been sleeping well.” I forced a smile. I was pretty close with Winston, and we usually ate and chatted together. “Is it because you’re not getting along with your roommate? You mentioned that she was a bit weird.” I hesitated for a moment before giving him a general rundown of what had been happening recently.