Page 2 of Roommate's Guide to Love

From a bar.

Because that’s who I’ve become. A thirty-four-year-old childless cat lady who doesn’t date, but has had an eight-year secret situationship with the boy she had a crush on in high school.

Yes, I know it’s fucked up. Eight years is a long-ass time. Yes, I should talk to someone about this. However, I’m not ready to tell a therapist that I’m avoiding commitment by sucking on the same dick twice a year with no attachments.

In my defense, it’s a really nice dick.

“Porter?” I ask, his face between my tits.

“Yeah?”

I want to laugh at his mumbled reply, but the thought I’m having is serious—one I don’t know if I’ve ever been ready to vocalize until right now.

“What are we doing?”

This makes him pause, and he slowly brings his eyes to me. “Currently? You’re lying back while I reacquaint myself with my two best friends.”

I sit up, which naturally pushes him back. “I’m being serious. What is this? How have we let this go on for eight years?”

Porter nods and sits up, though he does a fantastic job of making sure that his dick isjust barelycovered by the sheet.

“I thought this is what we both wanted? Nothing serious. Just fun. Right?”

Everything he’s saying is exactly what we’ve talked about before. Hell, I’m the one who put down most of the rules. “It’s just… I don’t know. Maybe it’s because two of my sisters are now in healthy and happy relationships. Even Simon is settled down. I feel like what we’re doing is something people do in their twenties. Not in their thirties.”

Porter’s fingertips brush down my arm as he places his fingers through mine. “I get that. Things change. Has something changed for you? Do you want something more?”

It might be the darkness of the room, but I swear for just a split second I saw something that looked like hope in Porter’s eyes.

Hope for more? Or hope that I’m about to call this off? Not really sure.

“Nothing has changed.”

“See. Who’s to say this is wrong?” Porter scoops me up and somehow, despite my size, places me on his lap. “Just because what we have isn’t conventional, doesn’t mean it doesn’t work for us. And I think it works pretty well, don’t you think?”

“It does,” I admit.

“Then don’t worry about anything else. Don’t let what others are doing get in the way of what we are,” he says as he starts kissing across my chest and up my neck. “Just relax and have fun. Stay. Let’s enjoy this impromptu visit a little longer.”

I melt into the feeling of Porter’s lips traveling up and down my naked body as he lays me back on the bed. I know I should leave. I don’t stay the night. Ever. Porter knows that. And he didn’t mean “stay” as in “stay the night.” I know he meant stay for round two.

And I want to—God, I want to. Especially because the first round was so chaotic and hot that I didn’t get to enjoy him like I really wanted.

So why is my head being a bitch and trying to be responsible? Is it really just because Maeve’s now married? Or that Stella is living with the love of her life? I mean, I love my sisters and I’m happy for them. But I didn’t think their happiness would make me question what I’ve decided to do with my sex life.

My mind is going back and forth when Porter’s kisses suddenly stop.

“What?”

“I can hear your brain working.”

Porter sits me up in bed, his hand gently grazing down the slope of my cheek. “I know what we have isn’t traditional. But that doesn’t make what we have wrong. We’re two adults who enjoy each other. A lot. What we have works for us. Fuck everyone else.”

I nod. “You’re right.”

“See? So how about this? You get out of that beautiful head of yours, stay a little longer, and let me remind you of all the reasons why we’re so good at what we are.”

Words fail me as Porter’s mouth goes to work again. My hands immediately go into his hair, running my fingers through his chestnut brown locks as he sucks and laps my nipple.

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