The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)
Page 22Yes, they were. Mat was a naval vet, and although he was a sophomore like Bickley and I, he was three years older.
We’d gotten off on the wrong foot because Bickley started in right away, trying to gain advantage. “So, we’ve got a single and a double,” my roommate had begun.
“The single is mine,” Mat said without a glance. “Says so right on the room assignment.”
He wasn’t wrong. The sheet we’d gotten in the mail had read: Room A: Mat Douglas. Room B: Rafael Santiago, William Gilchrist Bickley.
“We should trade off,” Bickley had argued. “Everyone will receive one third of the year in the single. That’s how my brother and his mates did it when they were here.”
“That’s not going to work,” Mat had said.
“Why not?” Bickley had pressed. “You’d have the single for three months. Then I’d have a turn. And then Rafe.”
Mat shook his head. “In the first place, I just spent three years on a submarine sharing a room that size with five other guys. So I’m due for some space. But trust me. You don’t want me as a roommate during those three months when it would have been your man Rafe’s turn.”
“Says who?”
A smirk crept across Mat’s angular face. “My boyfriend is stationed in Groton, about an hour away. He visits. We get naked. I’m just assuming you don’t want to watch.”
“I’m what?” Mat grinned, enjoying the discomfort he’d created. “Never mind. I’ll say it for you. I like dick. I’m a butt pirate. In the navy, they called me the Rear Admiral.”
At that, I’d thrown back my head and laughed.
“You think I’m kidding?”
“Not at all. I just never heard that nickname before.”
“You got a problem with it?”
“Dios.” I shook my head. “I’m from New York City. We don’t have a problem with much. Except rats and tourists.”
Mat’s eyes crinkled for a second, the first sliver of actual humor he’d shown.
But Bickley had been stony. “If you wanted to keep the single without a fuss, that would be a pretty good way to play us.”
Mat’s jaw hardened. “I don’t have to play you, asshole. The single is mine already. I figure they gave it to me because I’m three years older than y’all. Nice try, though.” He picked up his duffel and disappeared into the single.
And so it began. He and Mat had been at each other’s throats ever since. I tried to stay out of it, but the jousting never stopped.
“You can tell Bickley it’s safe to come home now,” Mat said eventually. “He won’t walk in on any queer action.”
“You flatter yourself,” I replied from the couch cushions. “When I came home last night, you were both here. And both getting action.”
From the window seat Mat gave a bitter laugh. “Seriously? I didn’t hear him.”
“I heard the both of you.”
Mat snorted. “Bickley was out on the prowl last night, too? That’s something I don’t need to see. ‘Hey baby, come for a ride in my Mercedes.’”
“For once would you just shut it?” I snapped. “And open the fucking window.”
I rarely told Mat where to get off, so apparently it made an impression. The next sound I heard was the creak of the window opening. “What crawled up your ass and died?” he asked.
I sighed into the leather of the sofa. “I got dumped last night.”
Pissed now, my head shot up off the couch, which unfortunately made the room spin. Ouch. “That’s funny to you?”
His lip curled. “It is, actually. Because I got dumped last night, too.”
I gave my head a shake. “No lie?”
He shook his head slowly. “I only wish I was lying.”
That explained the bags under his eyes and the early morning cigarette. “Sorry.”
“Yeah. So am I.”
Who knew I’d have something in common with my orneriest roommate? “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see it coming.”
Mat flicked the ash from his cigarette out the window. “Can’t say that I did, either.”
“I thought we were doing pretty good. But she cheated on me with some rich guy she met in Ecuador.”