AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We don't have AC in our apartment, but it's late September, which means the nights are in the low forties. I shouldn't wake up drenched in sweat. My attempt to turn is blocked from both sides. What the—?
I pause and assess the situation further. Usually, the inability to move would send me into an immediate sense of panic, but there is none. A body is pressed into my back, arms wrapped around my stomach while my face is pressed into…fur. Peace settles over me. I'm sandwiched between my dog and best friend, both radiating more heat than sitting in front of our firepit midday in August.
Last night begins to come back to me.
Aw, fuck, there goes my happy place.
I start pushing against Echo, and she grumbles at me—the dog seriously grumbled.
"Move over, girl." I shove harder, and she jumps up, bolting off the bed, but not before stepping on Kiwi and me in the process.
"Owww…" comes a groan from behind me.
Finally having more space, I pull away from the other heat source and sit up, swiping my tangled hair out of my face. My fingers touch something wet, and I let out a string of curses.
"Jeez, Roe-Roe, I know you're not a morning person, but this is a bit extreme, even for you." Kiwi turns on his back, rubbing his hands over his face.
"She drooled all over my hair," I whine. "I have dog slobber all over my head." I'm somewhere between losing my shit and crying. Still assessing if I can fix the damage with dry shampoo, my bedroom door opens, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Echo bolt out into the hallway, knowing precisely that she's the reason for my current mood. Mags appears, holding a mug between both hands, taking in the scene in front of her.
"You need to wash it." Her remark makes my frustration rise even more, and I fight the urge to kick my legs in a temper tantrum.
Of course she can read my mind.
I climb over Kiwi, who is now sprawled out with his hands behind his head, and pass my other friend on the way to the bathroom.
"Psych-major freak," I hiss at her in passing, which makes her grin as she brings her coffee to her lips.
I take my time, fully aware that Kiwi probably has to piss like a horse. But like he pointed out, I'm not a morning person. Actually, you could say I am diabolically evil in the morning—especially running on less than seven hours of sleep and zero caffeine.
Mags has the bedroom with an en suite, which leaves me to use the hall bathroom. I'm not complaining; it beats living out of my Jeep or my living arrangement before that. I'm grateful for everything I have.
How long will it last?
I'm drying my face when someone—Kiwi—hammers against the door. "OPEN UP!"
"Go use Mags's bathroom. I'm not done," I shout back.
"Kingsley!" Kiwi's exasperated use of my full name makes me snicker. Mags doesn't let anyone use her bathroom, and I mean anyone—not even her own sister. She is a weirdo when it comes to that.
When I don't respond, a low thud sounds against the bathroom door. I picture him hitting his forehead against the wood. I count to twenty, being extra salty, before unlocking the door.
Kiwi immediately pushes in and stalks to the toilet.
"Jeez, you could at least wait to whip your dick out until I'm done," I laugh, following his movement in the mirror.
"Fuck you, Roe-Roe," he murmurs as he relieves himself, and it sounds like a waterfall in my small bathroom. "You've seen my dick more than anyone else," he adds when he tucks said man part back into his shorts.
I just shake my head as I rummage for my moisturizer in the cabinet next to the mirror. He's not lying, but it has never been in the way most girls see a dude's privates.
Growing up together, his grandma took care of me whenever Mom worked. I slept at his place, or he at mine, more nights than I slept alone. Especially after my sister… I refuse to go back there.
We'd gotten ready together in the mornings so much that we had a routine between who showered, who got the sink, etcetera. Neither of us wanted to get up earlier to have privacy. Kiwi's interest in his own gender was evident from an early age—the age when it would've become inappropriate for us to see each other naked—so neither parental figure in our lives objected. Mom was glad I wasn't alone when she worked herself to death—literally.
Kiwi steps up behind me and waits for me to meet his gaze. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen so we can talk."
Talk.
I nod and watch him leave the room. My small bathroom suddenly seems like a vast black hole with no way out. A cold shiver runs down my spine, and I know I can't avoid it any longer.
