Roommate wanted: Must be well hung, able to perform multiple orgasms in a single night, and be completely and utterly gorgeous.
“You can’t write that!”
My best friend, Lauren, rolls her eyes and looks up from the computer screen. “Your version is boring.”
I know it is. It’s why I invited her over to help me write the ad. She’s the one that is supposed to be good with words since she’s a journalist. I’m just an underpaid administrative assistant who needs someone to move into the spare bedroom of my apartment so I can afford to keep living by the beach.
“Besides,” she continues, “you need to get laid; it’s been four months, Sarah. Time to get back on the penis. With my ad, you get rent and a steady supply of orgasms. What more could a girl want?”
I know she’s teasing me, but the look she’s giving me is deadly serious. I contemplate playing her bluff just to see what she’ll do, but then chicken out because I know she’ll do anything to win a bet.
“Just fix mine up to sound better. I don’t want any weirdo’s answering the ad.”
“Fine, but it’s your loss. Think of all the sleepless nights you could have had.” She grins and I can’t help but laugh. We both know that I haven’t slept with anyone since Danny. I’m not like Lauren who can pick up a stranger and take them home for the night. I need a connection. Maybe I should be more like her. Less chance of getting my heart shattered into pieces again.
“Let me read it.” I glance over her shoulder as her finger hovers over the submit button.
“Does it meet your approval, Miss Bennett?” She raises her eyebrow mockingly.
When I wrote it, I sounded like a nerdy desperado. She’s changed it to make me sound cool and the apartment to die for. I’d apply if I wasn’t already living here. I nod my head. “Send.”
“No, I’m sorry, there are no pets allowed in the building.” I groan and press the end button on my phone. Fifteen calls and not one of them I would want to meet in person. Maybe I’m being too fussy? I mean, it’s not too much to ask for people to have a job before they apply to live somewhere is it? Perhaps I should have given the woman who claimed to be a blogger a chance.
I scroll through the list of numbers trying to remember which one was hers when the phone rings again. Please don’t be a freak, I think to myself before I answer.
“I’m ringing about the room.” His voice is deep and breathy, like he’d just been running.
“Do you have a job?”
“A job. Income. The ability to pay rent.” I’m too annoyed to be polite. Might as well get straight to the questions.
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t apply if I didn’t.”
I audibly breathe out. “Good. You’d be surprised how many people who have rung up today don’t.”
He laughs and I immediately feel better. “Yeah, I can afford rent.”
“Pets. Do you have any pets?”
“No. Used to have a dog when I was a kid. But it died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Now I feel bad.
“Doesn’t matter, it was a long time ago. So, can I see the place? I’m looking to move somewhere right away.”
I pause. I haven’t got this far with anyone yet and suddenly I’m not sure that I’m ready to meet a complete stranger, let alone live with someone new.
“Hello? Are you still there? I’ve got references.”