Page 129 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“You going to talk?” Jonathan asks after a bout of silence.
“You going to be an ass during this entire conversation?”
“Pretty much.” He sips his beer and keeps his eyes fixed on the TV.
“Fair enough.” I clear my throat. “I came over here because I wanted to tell you that I love Paisley and plan on being in her life as long as she will have me. That being said, I need to patch things up with you because despite how much I hate it, you matter to her, and I don’t ever want her to feel uncomfortable when we’re in the same room. That’s not fair to her.”
“Awfully mighty of you,” Jonathan mutters before drinking from his beer again.
“Just trying to make this situation harmonious.”
Jonathan turns on the couch. His leg is propped up on the cushion and his back rests against the arm of the couch. His stance is relaxed but I can see the tension in his jaw; I can tell this conversation is just as hard on him as it is on me.
“I love her,” Jonathan says, point-blank. “I love that girl and would do just about anything to have her as mine.”
And there it is. The fear I’ve been harboring the minute I found out Jonathan the roommate wasn’t gay. The non-roommate, the schmuck dragged along for the ride, the guy that always loses in the end, that’s the kind of guy I’m feeling right about now with Jonathan staring daggers at me.
Fuck, this better not be one of those endings.
Before I can lay out my cards, he exhales and shakes his head from side to side in defeat. “It’s a shame though that she doesn’t feel the same way.” That perks up my ears. “For some godforsaken reason, she likes you. Imagine that.”
The term “like” doesn’t settle well with me, but I have time to change that, hopefully I have time to do so.
I hold back the brewing sarcastic comment. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I take a sip of beer to hide the smile that crosses my face.
“No, you’re not.” He chuckles. “Fuck, I hate you.”
“Feeling is mutual.” I nod in agreement.
“At least we have one thing in common.”
“That and our love for Paisley.”
Understanding passes over Jonathan as he takes in my words, acknowledging them with a nod. “Too bad for her she’s picking the lesser man. Can’t be mad at a girl forever over her bad taste.”
“Fuck off.” We both laugh but then Jonathan grows serious.
“One wrong move, and she’s mine.” He makes his stance known, and I read it loud and clear. The minute I slip up, he’s swooping in. I can get that. Hell, if I were in his position, I would do the same thing.
“Understood.” Sticking my hand out, I shake his and add, “I respect you for not moving in on her while I was gone.”
“Ha!” He laughs. “Yeah, I’m not that good of a guy. Just got turned down, that’s all.” He gets up from the couch and goes to the fridge. “Another beer?”
I grit my teeth from his confession. “No, but I will take a fucking fist to your face if you’re handing those out.”
“Not so much.”He rounds the couch and looks down at me. “Never claimed to be perfect.”
“Yeah, well, when she comes back in my life, I suggest you learn to stuff your dick in your pants when she’s around, none of this naked shit anymore.”
“Intimidated?” He raises an eyebrow.
I stand up, toe to toe with him. “Not in the slightest.”
We stare each other down, our chests puffed, pure testosterone filling the apartment air just as the front door opens.
A gasp comes from the entryway. Keys fly to the floor and Paisley comes running up between us, pushing us apart.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, shielding Jonathan. From behind, he’s grinning, his eyebrows wiggling at me, a smarmy look on his face from Paisley reprimanding me.
