Thanks coloryourworld for the edit...
=====================
"Spaghetti with meatballs. Something is not right."
Not bothering to look up and completely ignoring the comment, Samantha Morris continued grating cheese on her pasta. "Want some?"
"Maybe later," her roommate replied, sitting on one of the four kitchen stools attached to the breakfast bar and explained, "Imogen demanded a five-course meal which she enjoyed with gusto and no amount of dancing and sex can digest it off completely."
"Sheer talent," Sam concluded with a pensive sigh then started eating, "Of course, no calorie will dare touch her. Some people are lucky that way. They can eat whatever they want and not gain any weight at all. Unlike me who will forever carry the extra ten pounds however long I slave away at the gym. "
Chris Abbot merely gave her a look. The kind that asks 'what the hell is going on with you?' and she chose to ignore it. The last thing she wanted to do right then was to remember Stuart. And what he was doing inside his apartment when she arrived. It doesn't take a genius to know what groaning and moaning means. Especially when punctuated with a woman's screams of 'Oh Yesssss! More! Deeper! Yesssss Stuart!' But stupid her decided to open the door using the key he gave her a month before, hoping against hope to see something completely different. Like Stuart watching porn where the actor has the same name. But when she walked in, all those hopes vanished. Stuart, in all his naked glory, was mounted over someone like a dog in heat, undoubtedly getting it on with a familiar-looking redhead on the carpeted floor of his living room. His eyes were closed and he was grunting so loudly he did not even hear her come in. And Sam just stood there clutching her heart in disbelief. It felt like everything suddenly appeared in slow motion. Even Stuart's thrusting which could have been funny if her heart hadn't been breaking. She lost whatever voice she had and couldn't even manage a yelp of protest.
God, she is such a loser.
"No you're not."
Sam glanced at Chris and realized that she actually said that fact aloud. To her housemate who never -- not even once -- experienced this sort of thing before. Women gravitate towards him like moths to a flame. Tall, muscular and movie-star gorgeous, Chris is the quintessential hunk. One look at the man's wavy blonde hair, piercing blue eyes fringed with unbelievably long and thick eyelashes and the female species of this planet go nuts. He can literally have anyone he wants and right now the chosen one is a French-American, Charlize Theron look-a-like supermodel named Imogen Bradley. Her bikini-clad body is on billboards and magazine covers for everyone to see and her hand-me-downs sell thousands of dollars on E-bay. Imogen is truly red-hot.
Besides their complementing perfect looks, the couple apparently has a fantastic sex life too. The model bragged about it in FHM, calling Chris her very own Energizer Bunny. Mona, her researcher, endlessly teases Sam about having an 'Energizer Bunny' for a roommate. Of course, beneath the teasing, Mona is just plain envious. As expected, her researcher is into Chris too. So much so that Mona insists on dropping by her place almost daily and stays until the wee hours of the morning hoping Sam would ask her to sleep over which will never happen because unbeknownst to Mona, Sam and Chris have a couple of Housemate Agreement... and Rule Number One is: No Sleep Over's Of Any Kind. Translation: No lover, family or friends are allowed to spend the night. Simply put, kindly have sex in your lover's house not here. If either of them have a relative coming, book him/her/them to a hotel. Or if a friend is in crisis, suffer somewhere else. The agreement may sound cold but it works. The house is their sacred place. And it should always remain that way. It's not like their arrangement isn't unusual enough as it is. A man and a woman not romantically involved but living in one house, up to this day, remained to be a constant curiosity among their respective peers; the male dominated group of Chris and Sam's writer and publisher friends. An ex-NFL Quarterback turned bar-owner and a children's book writer sharing a house will often be questioned. Add the gender and personality differences and it is quite mind-boggling. But they do get along. Better than everybody expected.
Who could have thought that a random ad she published three years ago would bring someone like Chris? Sam had lived alone after her parents moved to Florida and sold their house. From the sale of their other house and chain of convenience store businesses, her parents bought her a two-bedroom studio-type apartment as a gift. Hating the loneliness of living alone, she looked for a housemate. For some unexplainable reason nobody paid any attention to her ad. Then after almost a month of waiting, Chris came to see the house and meet her 'boyfriend' Sam. He obviously did not expect Sam to be female. And when he did learn that she was indeed Sam, Chris quickly wanted to leave. But there was something about the ex-NFL player that made her feel at ease. Maybe it's Chris' way of looking directly in her eyes when they talk. It could also be because her Dad, who's an excellent judge of character, was a huge fan of the injured NFL player. Whatever the exact reason was, she immediately liked Chris. The no-malice, totally platonic kind of like. So she convinced him to be her housemate. It didn't hurt that his about-to-open bar was just a block away from her apartment and that the second floor of the building he bought which he originally planned on renovating to be his flat, became the much-needed stock/supplies room instead. So he moved in a week later. And they've been living together ever since.
Sam sighed. "I am."
"You are not a loser Sam," Chris insisted, reaching over her plate to pick up a meatball and took a small bite on it. He made an appreciative sound as he chewed. Sam's spaghetti with meatballs is out of this world.
Pushing her plate towards Chris, the brunette pleadingly groaned. "Please ignore me. "
"Meaning you don't want to talk about it huh."
Sam watched him eat for a full minute before answering. "I'd most likely blab about it non-stop for days anyway, being the over-analytic psycho that I am but not now. It still hurts so much."
Chris wisely shut his mouth. Three years of living together let him know the woman beside him really well. And the way to handle an upset Sam is to give her some "quiet time". He gave Sam's plate his undivided attention for a while, ignoring his still-full stomach's protests. When everything was all gobbled up, he straightened and unceremoniously reached out to give the all-too silent woman beside him a hug. Quiet time was over.
Sam, as if on cue, burst into tears. He patiently listened as Sam cried her eyes out and haltingly talked about Stuart Jones. Her two-timing boyfriend whom she caught doing it with his next door neighbor. In respect for her, he kept his opinion of Stuart to himself. But he did think Sam can do better than that curly-haired accountant who sniffs weirdly and "resembled that funny guy in Ally McBeal," to quote Sam's quirky researcher Mona. Contrary to how she sees herself, Sam is very pretty. The long, naturally wavy dark-brown hair and gray eyes, plus her alabaster skin..... What a deadly combination. One can get lost in those tresses and eyes. And Sam's perfect complexion, she could model for Neutrogena,Imogen had told him weeks ago, after meeting Sam for the first time. And she's definitely not fat. Sam has curves that won't quit. Some of his male friends actually wanted to date her but aside from the obvious fact that she was committed; Chris won't have any of it. He knows those men well, so well that he's keeping Sam as far away from them as possible.
"You know, I have a theory about why Stuart cheated on me."
