Chapter 3

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Beyonce

Nicki almost drops her dentures, as my mother would say, when she sees Kelly and whoever the seriously bleached blonde is sprawled bare-ass on the bed.

At least Nicki is getting the full picture on Kelly up front. Quite literally, as the asshat is lying on her back on the bare mattress, with nothing left to the imagination.

The blonde is curled up next to her, snoring softly, her mouth open and a line of drool on her chin.

No idea who she is. I can't remember seeing her before, but that's no surprise. We get new people every weekend.

And she certainly looks like Kelly's type: hot and "breezy"—her slang for an easy broad.

Why she steered her into Nicki's room instead of her own last night, I have no clue. Maybe she already had a girl, or two, passed out in her room downstairs.

I wouldn't put it past him.

Nicki is just standing there gawking at them. She gives me this wide-eyed look like she doesn't know what to do next.

There's something quirky and coltish about this girl that I like.

She's got ass that go on for days, just the right amount on top to fill out the little black tank she's wearing, and long, glossy black hair that I immediately want to bury my face in.

Physically, she's definitely my type.

And, assuming my gay radar is in good working order, the attraction between us is mutual. Nicki wants me; I can feel it.

You'd think I would've learned my lesson about hooking up with housemates, after the whole Megan drama. But what the hell. We're all adults.

Thing is, though, when she took off her sunglasses in the living room and I saw her eyes, I almost choked.

Because I instantly thought of another girl on the other side of the world with very similar eyes: Same color, same old-soul expression.

It freaked me out.

But maybe I'm just looking to see that girl in others. Maybe I can't let go of her memory.

Spotting the drumstick on the floor gave me a reason to bend over for a moment so I could get my shit together.

It's not the first time since I became a civilian I've suddenly been on the verge of tears.

I walk to the bed and twist Kelly's big toe hard to wake her up.

At the same moment, Munchie runs into the room, his nails clicking on the wood floor.

He goes straight to the bed and sticks his cold nose into the blonde's nicely toned ass.

Yowling, Kelly and the blonde try to sit up at the same time, and the blonde rolls off the bed and hits the floor, which gets Munchie barking, thinking she wants to play.

"Get that fucking dog away from me!" she screams, jumping to her feet while trying—pointlessly—to cover her privates with her hands.

Munchie keeps barking and rushes toward her, rearing up playfully.

And she kicks him, sending him scrambling behind me like a coward. For a German Shepherd, the dog's no canine cop.

"Hey!" I yell at her. "Don't kick the dog. He's just trying to play."

She grabs her clothes off the floor and, still cursing, runs into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Kelly is cradling her head in her hands.

"Jesus, Bey, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Seriously?" I snarl, picking up her underwear and throwing them at her. "I could say the same thing to you, asshole."

Kelly clutches her underwear in one hand and squints painfully at the sun pouring through the window as I go on.

"Our new roomie here just had to walk into her room and see your nasty bare asses all over her bed. Get the hell out so she can move in."

Kelly slowly turns to give Nicki a cocky smirk.

Then, still naked, she gets off the bed and strolls past her out the door. 

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