Bad Girl: An Enemies-to-Lovers Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 3) Read online
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I was panicking, telling myself I should’ve met him at the restaurant. Or skipped the meal and made it just about sex.
It became glaringly apparent that this wasn’t just a prelude to a fuck-fest. It was an actual date. He was asking questions. He was sharing information. Jude Novak has way more substance to him than being sex on a stick. And it got me scared. Terrified. I did not need him finding the need to do a background check on me.
No matter how hard I tried to keep it shallow and sexual, he kept veering into the deeper end.
The final straw? My breaking point?
He leaned forward, crooking his finger to make me lean forward.
“What do you want me to make you for breakfast tomorrow before I fuck you a second time?”
“I’m not a breakfast gal,” I fibbed, because I totally am.
“You will be. Because you’ll need nourishment after I put you through your paces. And baby, I can cook. Head to my place after this?”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Just toast me an Eggo, wrap it in a napkin and send me on my way with a slap on the ass. I’ll be good.”
He gave me a look that shook me to my core, and then said, “Not the way I work. Not all I’m lookin’ for, either. I’ve played the field, had a lot of fun. I’m at a point in my life where I’m ready for something more. Deeper.”
And then there was a long, loaded silence. And the jig was up. Because you can’t pretend it’s all about sex when he literally announces to you that it isn’t.
The server approached to refill our water glasses and I took the opportunity to excuse myself to go powder my nose. But the ladies’ room is not where I went.
I left.
Stupid. I should’ve just said it was all I wanted and if he wanted more, we would agree to disagree and split the check. But nope… I made it hard on myself by slipping out in an absolute panic like the drama queen I’ve always been.
I left the restaurant and messaged him from the cab on the way home to say I was sorry but feeling really unwell, that I had a stomach issue.
I turned my phone off, thinking nothing will turn a guy off like the idea of a girl with possible diarrhea.
He didn’t answer, so I figured it was message received.
He texted the next day.
Jude: How are you?
Me: Not great. Sorry about last night. Can’t chat right now. Sorry. Take care.
Jude: I’ll pop by and bring you some soup. Family recipe. Perfect for a stomach bug.
Me: No, that’s okay, thanks. I’d rather just rest.
Jude: I’ll drop it at the door. I have to stop by Aiden’s, so I’ll text when it’s there.
I stared at the container of soup for twenty minutes before I opened it up to taste it. It was the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had. Even if it tasted like guilt. And unfulfilled dreams. Also lies. My lies.
He texted the day after.
Jude: Feeling better?
I didn’t answer. He texted the following day with just three question marks. I waited about ten hours to reply.
Me: Thanks for the soup. I’m super slammed at work so can’t chat.
Two days after that…
Jude: How are you?
I took six hours to answer.
Me: Good thanks. Hope all is well. Smokin’ busy. Ciao for now. I gave Aiden your container. TTFN.
I put that container in Aiden’s office with a Post-It note when Aiden wasn’t there so that I wouldn’t have to answer questions. And even the container Jude put the soup in told me things about him that I didn’t need to know. It was glass, meaning A) he cared about the environment and B) knew stuff tasted way better reheated in glass than in plastic.
I was giving him a brush-off, wishing he’d go away at the same time as hoping he wouldn’t. I felt so conflicted. And so attracted to him I was having hauntingly beautiful sex dreams about him every single night. They were so vivid, so wonderful that I woke up disappointed each morning that I was alone in my bed.
The loneliness started to get quite palpable because I was thinking of him constantly.
And then I started running into him. Repeatedly. And that probably made me act sketchier, making him suspicious. I couldn’t seem to stop making bad choices where Jude was concerned.
I didn’t know if I was overthinking things and being paranoid or if the universe kept throwing him in my face to taunt me. And the way his eyes were on me, the way he looked at me – I felt like I was in serious danger. Because he was suspicious and maybe looking into me.
I was terrified and trying my hardest to hide it.
I saw him at work and that could be dismissed because he visited Aiden, and Aiden’s office is near my cubicle.
But then a day later, I saw him at the supermarket, and I made a hasty exit. And three days after that, randomly at a mall with Stacy from work. At the supermarket, I pretended I didn’t see him and caught him looking aggravated, so I was guessing he saw me and the sight of me pissed him off. I couldn’t pretend not to see him at the mall because we literally collided. I walked straight into six feet two-ish of inked muscles.
“Ally.” He looked down at me. His large, tatted, hot hands were on my biceps.
“Oh hey. How are you, hey! We’ve got an appointment with the waxing girl so gotta dash, but how are you?” I said this as I grabbed Stacy’s hand and I could swear his hands tightened for the briefest millisecond before he let go. I immediately dragged Stacy in the other direction.
He flexed his jaw and jerked his chin before he kept going.
Stacy quizzed me about what the heck was wrong with me and also about fibbing about a non-existent appointment. I told her he was creeping me out and that the color of his aura was all wrong.
Stacy proceeded to act like I was a crazy person because of how gorgeous Jude is and started asking me aura color questions, which I deflected because I know nothing about that – it’s just something I say because it never gets questioned.
And then he was no longer popping up, no longer texting me, and I was sad even though I was also saying to myself, ‘mission accomplished’, until I heard in passing a month or so later from Aiden and Austin talking by the photocopier about Jude being out of town on some big undercover job.
Another month, almost two go by and I still think about him constantly, but don’t see him and don’t ask about him.
I’m feeling like he’s given up and I’m half relieved but three quarters sad. Carly has asked about him a couple times and I’ve given vague answers about not being into him anymore, but then, out of the blue, I ran into him at another nightclub with Sonia and Stacy from work.
He cornered me by the bathroom.
“What game are you playing?” he asked when I waved casually and tried to walk straight past him.
“Game? Not a gamer, buddy.” I tried to breeze by, and his arm shot up, caging me in.
“Pretending I don’t exist when the two of us met and there was instant chemistry. Flirting. Sexually charged conversations. And then… nothing. No, not nothing,” he glared, giving me a once-over, “You acting like you’ve got the plague and are afraid to give it to me.”
“What? Maybe more like you’ve got it and are gonna give it to me.”
He reacted by spinning his index finger in the air. “The other way around.”
I found this peculiar. And far too intuitive.
“You’re talking months ago. I barely remember,” I lied.
He stared right into my eyes, making my heart skip a beat and it evidently had an impact because I quickly added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run hot and cold on you, but I was looking for casual, but now I’m seeing somebody and that’s turning out not to be casual, so, I find myself in an awkward spot with you. I’m bad at confrontation.” I shrugged. “Friends?” I held my hand out for him to shake it.
He grabbed my hand and got super close to me. Our mouths barely two inches apart.
“Friends? No fucking way,” he growled, eyes holding mine hostage.
And I probably failed at hiding the mixture of terror and raw lust in mine.
“Later, Ally.”
A promise. A threat. Something that both thrilled and terrified me in equal measure.
He disappeared, then. My eyes kept scanning the club looking for him, but I didn’t find him again.
And I went into a days-long funk because good God, the dreams, the fantasies, the longing. It was all-consuming.
The following Saturday afternoon, I was hanging out upstairs at Carly’s and Aiden dropped into conversation that Jude wanted to know my story.
“My story? What do you mean?” My heart thundered in my chest, and I broke out into a cold sweat because nobody can know my story and my story is a very vague one intentionally and probably very obviously vague to someone who’s a private eye.
“He’s askin’ questions about you. Looks like he’s interested, Pinky. Has been since he met you but seems like you two can’t get your shit together. Go for it. He’s a good guy.”
I tried to mask my confusion.
“What shit together?”
“He’s not usually the type to wanna be tied down but see somethin’ with him that I saw in myself when I met this one.” He jerked his thumb at Carly.
She rolled her eyes. “This one,” she muttered.
He smirked at her.
“What did you tell him about me?” I asked, peeling nail polish from my left thumb with my right, trying to act casual.
“That you joined us from a merger in Baltimore, that you’re a solid employee, a quirky weird girl, but we like you. And that you make killer fuckin’ cupcakes.” He shrugged.
“She is not weird,” Carly defended, looking like she was ready to take him down at the idea he’d upset me.
>
Gotta love Carly.
“I’m weird,” I admitted, “And completely uninterested.”
Carly and Aiden both jerked toward me with surprise. “Uninterested?” Carly looked me over. “Maybe you are weird. And when was your last eye exam?”
Aiden looked Carly in the eyes with a flexing jaw. “Tell us how you really feel, Peaches.”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean, obviously he’s nice to look at. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed. But more important is that I saw how you noticed and heard how excited you were about that first date. But then you said he ghosted you after that date, but it sounds more like the other way around from what Aiden has said. Then… you change the subject whenever his name comes up. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. What’s goin’ on?”
Aiden leaned back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms, evidently also interested in my answer.
“It just wasn’t…” I shrugged. “Just not into him. Weird aura. Sorry, he’s your friend but I’m about more than looks. What else did you say about me?”
“Just that you’re single. He asked if you were in a relationship.”
“How do you know I’m not?” I snapped, making him rear back.
“Duh. Because I’m sure we’d know if you were,” Carly stated.
I shot her a look that I hoped screamed for her to stop talking.
It didn’t work.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked.
“Just not into him.” I shrugged. “I’d like him to back off, too, so don’t encourage him, okay, Aiden?”
Aiden frowned.
“I’m hung up on someone from my past. I’m not ready for anything,” I added.
“You wanna talk about it?” Carly asked.
Aiden looked uncomfortable.
I bit my lip.
“Want me to mix some drinks?” she asked.
Who wouldn’t love her? She’s always ready to take my back with booze-infused fruity beverages just like I take hers with my frosted cupcakes.
Aiden looked at his phone and made a hasty exit, obviously wanting to avoid getting caught up in girl talk.
So that was good, but the bad part – Carly.
“Talk to me,” she invited, eyes full of concern.
“I don’t wanna talk about it. About him. My ex. He’s a douchebag. I’m not ready for the next douchebag, I guess. Jude looks fun to roll around with, but he was giving me relationship vibes, so yick. I’m not down for that. Too messy to play and then ghost him since he’s friends with Aiden.” I fake-shivered for effect.
She cocked her head curiously.
“Wanna go get manicures and pedicures? My treat,” I tried.
“We got mani pedis last weekend.”
“Is there such a thing as too much feet pampering” I asked. “And look at the mess of my fingernails.”
(Even though the fingernail mess was something I just did.)
Carly tipped her head side to side a few times in contemplation.
“Let’s go! And frothy overpriced coffee, too. On me. Meet you in the lobby in ten? I gotta dash down and get my pedicure flip flops and my bag.”
“I get the sense you’re trying to distract me from the conversation, but you look like you need to, so I’ll let you.”
“Thank you,” I rasped, giving her an expression that was rare for me because it was completely unfiltered. “I really can’t talk about any of that.”
Carly nodded. “When you’re ready.” She squeezed my hand.
Sadly, it didn’t matter if I was ready or not. It couldn’t happen.
The following Friday, I saw Jude outside my office. He walked up to me in the smoking shelter and got right in my space.
“What’s goin’ on with you? This is your last chance to start makin’ sense because I know you don’t have a man; you’re single one minute, in a relationship the next, and hung up on an ex according to someone else. And I’m losin’ patience.”
God, those expressive eyes were incredible. I guarded my reaction at the way he looked at me, which felt like it was more with concern than frustration. And that made it worse.
“What’s it to you?” I snapped, bitchily.
His eyebrows rose in challenge.
“Nothing to lose patience about,” I added. “We’re not anything, so back off.”
“Huh?” he looked completely baffled. “What’s going on with you?”
“I’m trying to be cool here, but you’re being creepy. Listen, we’re both friends with Aiden and Carly so let’s not make this awkward.”
“Explain yourself, woman, and do it now.”
“I have nothing to say. Is your ego so fucking massive that you can’t possibly comprehend that I’m not into you?”
“You say what you say but the way you look at me says different so looks like I’ll be listening to your body language instead of your lyin’ mouth.”
I gasped at the audacity and shouted, “I owe you nothing. Back off.”
I hated the look on his face when I shouted at him, so backpedaled. “I’m sorry, I’m just not ready to date. I tried to go on a date with you and things just didn’t feel right. I got hurt. Bad. And it takes time to get over that kind of hurt. And it’s uncool that you’re not taking a hint.” I took one more haul of the strawberry flavored vapor and quickly moved past him to go back inside, not looking back. Not letting myself even though I really wanted to.
And I felt sorry for myself the rest of the day.
So much so that I had to organize a girls’ night out to find a way to cheer myself up.
And when that ended early and hadn’t had the desired effect of making me forget the craving, I did something stupid.
Really stupid.
I sent him a text.
A booty call text.
Totally stupid, but I was drunk and feeling sorry for myself, so I rationalized my behavior. I told myself I was doing it to get it out of my system. Get out of his system.
Give myself one night of wild indulgence. Which I did. It was exceptionally indulgent.
So, why then, is he sitting in my apartment now, a week later?
This is my corporate apartment and by all rights, I’m surprised I’m still here. The three months rent-free thing as part of my relocation incentive package was long since up. Because it’s the company’s apartment and there’s a spare room there has always been the chance I’d have to share it. Meryl left soon after I got here, and it’s been all mine ever since.
In fact, I mentioned concerns about time running out to Aiden, a while back because I got hired permanently but my employment contract said nothing about housing and my previous temporary contract had only promised lodgings for three months.
Aiden told me to consider included housing part of my salary for now, not to worry about looking for a new place yet, that if they needed the room, they’ll tell me and give me plenty of notice.
Carly lives upstairs and we usually carpool to work either in a cab or Aiden drives us and we constantly hang out together. Plus, I like it here. I’d been thinking I’d rent something else in the building once I no longer got to stay rent-free – something I can inject with some more personality.
But frankly, living here suits me, too, because my name isn’t on the lease and the fewer fingerprints and breadcrumbs I leave, the less chance there is of my past catching up to me.
So, more about that night with Jude…
2
Ally
Flashback: The Booty Call
A Week Before Carly and Aiden’s Wedding
Me and my stupid vagina. My stupid drunk vagina, making me send that text on the very same day as the smoking shelter incident, telling him to back off.
Me: How’s this for mixed signals, but wanna come over and get laid? Sex only. One night only. Offer expires in half an hour.
I know, this makes me a horrible person, but the girlie party ended before I wanted it to. I got drunk and Carly fell asleep while we were looking at wedding dresses online, so Aiden saw me out – not remotely interested in partying with me, and I went downstairs to my lonely, boring apartment.
First, I tried texting Sonia from work to see if she wanted company. She didn’t answer. I tried texting Stacy to come over to my place for a sleepover. She told me she was in bed already and too sleepy.