Roommates With Benefits [BL]

For once, I missed the moment everything went sideways. Given my track record lately, that was probably a good thing.

I seemed to have a knack for being in exactly the wrong spot whenever someone decided to turn my life upside down.

Whether it was getting a crazy offer to vanish for ten million bucks, getting fired from my café job because I tossed coffee at a scary billionaire, realizing my ex had helped a psycho stalk me, or beating that psycho until Damien had to pull me off him.

Seriously, I was starting to think the universe had it out for me.

It felt like there was a well-organized plan in play, complete with a spreadsheet and cute sticky notes labeled "Ways to Ruin Oliver’s Day!"

So, while I was stuck at work making drinks for folks who thought hollering their orders would speed up the process, Damien was quietly cleaning up the mess Jeremy had created.

At first, I had no clue any of this was going down.

All I knew was what Damien had said before I left for my shift that morning, he had some "things" to deal with. He delivered it so calmly that it didn’t register much at the time.

"Some things?" I echoed, trying to tame my hair in the mirror, which looked like it had been attacked by a pillow after Damien spent half of last night plowing me.

"Yes."

"That sounds a bit suspicious."

Damien was perched on the edge of the bed, watching me with that unreadable look on his face.

He glanced at my bandaged hand, then back to my face. "Its abouy the Jeremy Problem, you don’t need to worry about it."

"That’s exactly what someone says right when I should start worrying."

A faint smile appeared on his lips. "I’ll handle it."

I stared at him for a moment, waiting for the usual prelude to disaster. But nothing came.

With a sigh, I finally said, "Fine. But if you end up in cuffs, I’m telling everyone you made me do it."

"You’d visit me."

"Only because you’d look horrible in prison orange."

He mockingly gasped, "Who says? I think I look good in all colors."

I chuckled softly, and I headed to work feeling oddly lighter.

Little did I know then, Damien had already made up his mind.

He wasn’t about to let Jeremy’s confession just linger on his phone like a weird souvenir. He took the recording, the photos, and Melanie’s statement to a lawyer first.

Apparently, that’s what happens when your entire life is spent around people who can turn issues into mountains of paperwork.

While I was learning how to mix a whiskey sour without drowning it, Damien was across from a lawyer, laying everything out with the calm precision he usually had when studying.

Damien didn’t need to spice things up; Jeremy had already done that for himself.

He had confessed to what he’d done, detailed the reasons behind it, talked about stalking us, getting the photos, and using Melanie, all while targeting Damien.

His own words became the proof against him.

From there, Damien escalated things to the university.

Campus security and administration got involved, and then it was the police’s turn.

There were meetings, questions, statements, and a mountain of paperwork that would have crushed any regular person.

But Damien managed each step without making a scene.

Which is why I wasn’t surprised when he told me later he spent most of the day looking like he was about to murder someone while calmly signing forms.

That was one of Damien’s special skills; he could look like death itself while holding a pen.

By the end of my shift that night, I was tired enough to consider sleeping in the bar’s storage room.

The place was packed, and I spent way too many hours dodging elbows, spilled drinks, drunken advances, and one overly enthusiastic man who thought that buying me three shots that I declined meant we were fucking engaged now.

I politely declined the proposal, partly because I already had a boyfriend, and partly because the guy was forty-three and sporting a shirt that said Whiskey Business.

Some standards had to be maintained.

When I finally got back to Preston Hall, it was late. I unlocked the door and stepped into the familiar quiet of the apartment. It felt... strange.

Not peaceful, exactly. Just quiet, like a feeling I had almost forgotten.

I kicked off my shoes near the door and dropped my bag on the chair.

The slight scent of alcohol still clung to my clothes, mixed with the fancy soap the bar provided in the staff bathroom.

My feet ached, my shoulders were sore, and my hand reminded me every few minutes that punching people might not be the best career choice.

"Damien?" I called out.

"I’m here." His voice came from the living room.

I followed it and found him sitting on the couch, dressed in dark trousers and a simple black shirt.

His laptop was open on the coffee table, though he wasn’t looking at it, more like he was waiting for me.

That little realization softened something inside me.

I plopped down beside him on the couch like a sack of potatoes that had given up. "You look suspiciously calm."

"I am calm, Sunshine."

"That’s what makes it suspicious."

He smirked slightly.

"So? What’s going on?"

He shook his head, but a small smile played on his lips. Then that look of calm settled back on his face.

"Jeremy is gone."

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. For some reason, I was expecting more of a dramatic statement or at least an explosive revelation maybe even fireworks.

But he said it just like he was sharing that the grocery store was out of milk.

I blinked, "Gone?"

"His family pulled him out of Hawthorne."

I stared at him, processing. "When?"

"Today."

I sat up a little straighter, my heart sinking. "Today?"

"They moved quickly once the university and their lawyer saw the evidence."

I rubbed my face, feeling the weight of the news. "So he’s just... gone?"

"Pretty much."

"You’re telling me that after all that, he just vanishes?"

"His family took him out of school. He won’t be coming back."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Of course."

Damien studied me. "Of course what?"

"Of course the shitty coward would just fucking disappear." My voice wasn’t satisfied, which surprised me.

I had thought about this moment plenty of times,.imagined Jeremy being exposed or arrested, dragged away in handcuffs while I stood nearby looking heroic even in my cheap shoes.

Instead, it was just paperwork and lawyers, and now, Jeremy was simply gone. Just like that...after weeks of turning my life inside down.

I leaned back against the couch. "That’s it?"

"For now."

"He doesn’t even have to face us?"

"No."

"That’s annoying."

Damien looked my way. "You wanted him punished?"

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