Page 38 of Roommate's Guide to Love

At least, that’s what I portrayed. And after a while, I started to believe it.

Which is why I always turned down Porter when he asked me out. I knew he wasn’t serious about it. He couldn’t have been. No one else in that school ever asked me on a date, and you’re going to tell me that Porter McCoy, one of the most popular guys at Rolling Hills High School, was the one to do it?

Please. I’m the Queen of Pranks. I can see one coming at me a mile away.

I always told him no, even though parts of me wished it were real. But I knew it wasn’t, so I saved both of the us the embarrassment. Because I know he would’ve gone through with it if I’d have said yes. And then I would’ve had my heart broken when I found out it was just a joke, or him being nice.

No. Turning him down kept my heart intact.

Which is why right now I need to tell myself that this is just one night. I can’t think about my crush. I can’t think this is more than two people needing comfort on a very shitty day.

And most importantly, I can’t spend the night. I can’t wake up in his arms or feeling him next to me.

I won’t be able to take it in the morning when he tells me it was a mistake. Or when he asks me to leave with regret in his eyes.

So no. I’ll let myself enjoy tonight. I’m going to let my body enjoy this. But without a doubt, I’m going to protect my heart.

And I did. That night was like no other. The way Porter kissed and held me? It was like nothing I’d ever felt in my life.

At that point, I’d been with a few guys, and the sex was enjoyable-ish. But nothing that made me want to write anonymous posts on the internet bragging about the earth-shattering orgasms I’d just received.

Over the years, I tried to date, even as Porter and I were in the midst of what we were. I didn’t feel bad. We were just having fun. And I assumed he was dating while I was away too. But I found that, at least in my case, the men who wanted to be with a bigger woman didn’t want to date her. They just wanted to fuck her like a dirty little secret that they could only have in their bedrooms but God forbid take her to an Olive Garden for some breadsticks.

Then I’d come to Rolling Hills, be with Porter, and remember why at least in the bedroom, no man was stacking up. He turned on a switch in me that’s never been turned off.

Porter and I are still standing pressed against each other, neither of us moving. He’s so close. I could just tilt my head up and easily kiss the scruff of his jawline. He hasn’t shaved for a few days, and right now he’s sporting the perfect amount of beard that I don’t even have to close my eyes to remember how it feels between my thighs.

God, how am I going to be able to do this? I’m not strong. I’m just a weak bitch with a good vibrator. I told Porter for years that we weren’t going to do it again, and every time I crumbled at the first mention of chicken wings. Or a wink he’d send me across the bar.

“Quinn…” My name on Porter’s lips is more of a groan than anything. But before he can finish, the deafening sound of glass breaking snaps us out of our trance.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” The apology is coming from the birthday girl, who apparently dropped her drink. “But everyone! It’s my birthday!”

The crowd cheers and forgets about the glass breaking. And if they were looking at Porter and I, their attention is now diverted.

Thanks, drunk birthday girl.

“I’m going to go clean that up,” Porter says, giving his head a shake before turning to walk the long way around the bar so he and I don’t have to touch for him to make his exit.

I in turn head to the ice chest and take a few cubes out to rub them on the back of my neck and drop a few down my bra for good measure.

Because I might’ve turned the light switch off in theory when it comes to Porter, but apparently the fucker still has current flowing to it.

11

porter

“All right,Porter. I’m outta here!”

I don’t know if I’ve ever heard George say those words in my life. “Where you off to?”

He points outside as he fixes his trucker cap. “It’s a beautiful day and the lady wants me to go to the greenhouse or some shit. But then she promised steak tonight, so to the greenhouse I go.”

I laugh and wave goodbye. “See you next week.”

He tips his cap to me and walks out the door, leaving me alone at The Joint on a Saturday afternoon.

I don’t know the last time I worked a Saturday day shift. Jenny usually holds down the fort and I come in at night, but because Quinn’s in the fold, Jenny was able to take the day off and after a week on the job, Quinn said she’s ready for a solo night weekend shift. Which left me here for the day.

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