A/N: I recommend listening to Here Is My Love by Jesse Frederick while you're reading this :)
Anthony twisted the key into the lock of her apartment door. At Tomlinson, they offered off-campus co-ed apartments, so Anthony's dad insisted that she should get one. So, of course she did. The sun was setting and the humidity of today's weather was subsiding. She went in as the door opened and she closed it behind her. As the door closed, Anthony sank to the floor right in front of it and blew her bangs out of her face. Today had been tiring. She had gotten lost about five times until she finally decided to go to the office to get a map of the campus. The majority of her classes were in trailers—or learning cottages as they called it at Tomlinson.
Anthony swore under her breath as she got up to go into the small kitchen. She opened the door of the refrigerator and turned on the stereo system on top of the counter pressed play. She held the refrigerator door open with her foot. She knew that her Idolmaker soundtrack CD was already in there. She turned up the volume to a deafening level as the beginning notes played.
Taking out a pan and some cooking oil, she laid the pan on the stovetop, turning it on. She put some oil in the pan and took a carton of eggs out of the fridge and closed the door. As the stovetop heated, she unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them, kicking them over to the pantry door. She'd take care of that later. She adjusted her boy shorts and started lip-synching. There was a reason why this was her favorite song—she would never be caught lip-synching to anything else.
Anthony began to sing along with the track as she cracked eggs into the pan. Soon, the shy Anthony began to dance all around the kitchen, coming back to the pan to scramble the eggs and transfer them to a plate every once in a while. Anthony hardly noticed that she wasn't alone anymore; that she was being watched. The track ended as Anthony still sang the chorus, turning the volume down. She went to reach for a glass and her eyes met a smirking man who wasn't there the last time she turned around. Now, this tall man closely resembled Adonis, the mythological god. He had beautiful long chocolate hair, eyes that matched his hair color and his face was chiseled. She could make out well defined arms through his t-shirt.
Anthony's mouth dropped as she let out a mortified squeal. She felt heat flood to her cheeks.
"Who…are you..?" She managed to whisper. She watched as he dropped his large duffel bag on the floor. His smile widened.
"Your roommate." He chuckled, softly. "John Morrison…and you are?" He reached his hand across the counter.
"…Embarrassed as a mother fucker." She hadn't realized that she had said that out loud.
John still took her hand shaking it. "Nice to meet you, 'Embarrassed as a mother fucker'." He played along.
She shook her head, clearing her mind. "Anthony Dale…I'm sorry." She shook his way big hand, again, firmly.
He smiled again. "It's okay." He sat on the counter. He towered over her small stature. "This isn't the first time I've seen someone dance in their underwear to 'Here Is My Love'…" He said trying to make her blush disappear as she looked up at him. He realized there was no point.
"Nevermind." He decided to stop himself. He looked over at the stove. "That smells good." He changed the subject. That seemed to break her daze.
"Oh. Right. Eggs." She turned away from him to retrieve the eggs. She wasn't so hungry anymore. As soon as she turned her back to him she muttered another curse, beating herself up. You idiot, she thought. She could hear John's attractive chuckles that emitted from his throat. She turned around, raising a perfect eyebrow at him.
"Sorry," He apologized, hiding a smile with his hand. "Your underwear's sexy." He offered as a compliment. She rolled her eyes and turned back around.
"You're not getting into them." She got out a fork and picked up the plate, leaning up against the fridge, beginning to eat.
"So, your dad is Gregory Dale, yeah?" He asked and Anthony nearly choked on her eggs. She didn't even have to ask before John began to explain.
"He's alumni. Well known alumni. Aside from the fact that you're practically Shawn Michaels' niece.." He began, but she stopped him.
"—I don't need people to know that…So please, don't say anything." She pleaded, her mouth full with food. John pretended to think about it, placing a hand on his jaw.
"Hmm.." He looked upward, pondering. "Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"
Will you sleep with me tonight?
She narrowed my eyebrows at him. "Non. Oh, and that's not a way to make a good first impression on a roommate." She thanked her high school guidance counselor for advising her to take French although she wanted to take Spanish. He smiled again.
"Okay, I won't."
She could see this would be a long year.
