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Zina is peering at me from under her long lashes, eyes gleaming, her full lips looking fucking biteable. Making my heart gallop inside my rib-cage. I wonder if she can hear its deafening beat. And I swear I don’t know how I’m resisting throwing her over my shoulder and locking us into my penthouse suite.
“If you’re sure…”
Her voice is just as throaty and enticing as I remember. A seductive rasp that trickles down my spine like a caress.
I wink at her, grinning broadly. “Let me grab my jacket.”
When I come out from behind the bar, I’m back in my three-piece suit, and it’s go time. Don’t fuck this up, Romano.
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO - Zina
“Girl!”
I almost fall off my bed, sitting up abruptly at the loud call coming from the dorm suite door. My sleepy eyes blink as I turn to the startling voice. It’s my roommate, Mynna.
Mynna Johnson is a force of nature. Opinionated and bossy, but also the funniest and most caring college roommate I could have dreamed of being paired with. She bulldozes through my quiet habits and forces me out of my comfort zone. It’s exhausting, but your girl needs that.
* * *
I grew up in a family of five, as the youngest child, with a seven-year age gap between each one of us. By the time I was eleven, both my brother and sister were out of the house. They were super sweet when they were around, but being alone with my parents for most of my life, I was never used to being very social. On top of that, I was identified as a gifted child. So between skipping grades and always having my neck buried in a book, I didn’t really have a regular teenager life so far.
* * *
My mind slowly registers Mynna is talking, gesticulating, and overall being her crazy self.
“What are you doing? It’s six-thirty.”
She’s staring at me wide-eyed, lips parted in an expression of horror, making me roll my barely open eyes, smiling.This girl is so dramatic.
Sucking my teeth teasingly, I reply, “girl, I was just taking a nap. Youknow, it’s been a week.”
Mynna shakes her head. “No, no, no, no, no. We can’t let them win, baby girl. Uh-huh. They drown us in projects and papers. And exams are not even here yet. Nope. We came to college to studyandparty.” She pairs her words with sassy twists of her neck and shoulders, while swirling her index finger upward. “Get up and get dressed. I’m not leaving without you.”
I shake my head, laughing. “It’s fine, Mynna. You go have fun. There’s this romance book I was keeping for the weekend.” I wag my eyebrows. “I’m gonna read a bit and go to the cafeteria, grab me some dinner.”
Mynna’s eyes grow wider. Now I’m feeling a bit self-conscious.What’s so bad about wanting to spend a quiet evening?
“Zina, do you know what today is?”
“Uh, Friday?”
More disgusted head shaking.
“It’s Battle of the Bay, you fool!” When I shrug, signaling my ignorance, Mynna looks at me like I’m the bane of her existence or something. “It’sthegame of the season. DelMonte plays Seaside,” she explains, naming our two DelMonte Bay local universities.
“Oh, okay. Cool.”
Blink.Longblink. “Cool? Girl, if you don’t get your behind off that bed!” I jump, startled by her increased volume. Mynna takes a deep inhale, then comes to sit on my bed next to me. “You know I love you. You’re sweet, smart, and funny. The best damn roommate I could have asked for. I never have to remind you to clean or tidy your stuff. You don’t steal or even borrow my things without permission. And I love our movie nights and all the girly shit we do together.” She pauses for a second before emphatically laying her hands on my shoulders. “But girl, you’re only eighteen, not eighty. You gotta get out of this room.”
Mynna’s theatrical delivery makes me giggle, but her words just echo what my parents, siblings, teachers, and friends have been repeating my entire life. ‘Get out more, meet new people, do fun things.’
I let out a defeated sigh. I would have loved to spend the evening with that broody rake from my Regency romance novel and a greasy slice of pizza. But, oh well. “You’re right. Let me just-”
Before I can complete my sentence, Mynna shrieks excitedly, clapping her hands. In one swift move, she jumps off my bed and scurries to my dresser, starting to rummage through the drawers.
“I know exactly what you should wear,” she mumbles to herself, completely ignoring me. “That jeans skirt that makes your ass look ah-mazing. And where’s that cute top you never want to wear because it shows off your boobs?”
She strongly encouraged me to buy that top on one of our shopping trips. And I may have grown to accept and even like my generous curves, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to flaunt the girls!
