CHAPTER TEN

Monica

I close the door and take a deep breath, not even trying to get rid of the stupid grin on my face.

I slept with Chandler.

I was the one who initiated things, got him all hot and bothered and he followed through.

And it was amazing.

Chandler The Lover, is nothing like Chandler The Roommate.

Chandler, The Roommate is cute, annoying sometimes, sloppy often.

But Chandler The Lover? He's cute and hot, he's cute-hot, he's take-charge, and he left no stone unturned, metaphorically speaking.

I don't know what it really meant for him, but I know I had to bite my tongue a few times to avoid saying anything revealing about how I feel about him. How I already felt about him Before Sex and how my feelings are reaching a dangerous level now.

So I don't tell him this morning that it's never been this good, that when I stopped to look into his eyes I saw everything that seemingly struck me out of the blue, but had been there all along if I'd stopped to notice, and finally noticed last night when he came to the restaurant to get me home, asking no questions, then to my room to offer words of comfort. Reading me like a book.

I never could imagine in a million years he would be so attuned to my feelings.

I knew then. He's the man that I want.

I slept with my roommate, but deep in my heart, I know I made love to the man I'm falling in love with.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply before going down the stairs when the door to the apartment next door suddenly swings open.

A young man appears, and his presence makes me realize there were boxes in front of the door, but I was too preoccupied with a certain someone to pay close attention to my surroundings.

And that guy waves hello at me, flashes me a smile straight out of a toothpaste commercial while checking me out, up and down. Unscrupulously.

In other circumstances, I might have been affected by his obvious attractiveness, his tight shirt underlining his muscles and overall Don Juan looks, but these aren't normal circumstances. I still have endorphins rushing through my brain, due to one guy and one guy only, sharing my apartment.

Still, Don Juan isn't discouraged and starts lifting a box while looking at me, and he almost falls. Out of politeness, I offer my help which he declines, preferring to show off probably.

That's when Chandler makes his presence known.

Don Juan drops the box then extends his hand. "Hey there, I'm Joey Tribbiani. Just moved across the hall."

I shake his hand. "Hi, I'm Monica. Monica Geller, I live next door. Welcome to the building."

I turn to look at Chandler, who doesn't seem thrilled at all.

"How did you get this apartment?" Chandler suddenly says, in an unusual shrill voice.

I give him a look. "Chandler, don't be rude."

"I don't understand, this apartment was illegally sublet, they wouldn't let me move in! How did you do it?"

Joey frowns his eyes and looks incredulously at me. Frankly, Chandler is acting a little crazy, I can't blame him.

"Answered an ad on the paper," he answers with a shrug.

I move to Chandler and pat him on the chest. "Chandler, please let it go. You just had sex with your roommate, can't you be a little grateful?" I whisper to his ear and he finally relaxes.

"Okay, fine. Welcome, I guess. I'm Chandler."

They finally shake hands, in that weird, man-to-man thing that guys do, as I look at my watch to make sure I'm not running late for my shift.

"So you two are the couple next door. I hope you don't make too much noise at night." Joey smiles, a rueful little grin.

I realize we do look like a couple since we're standing very close to each other and I was comforting him with my arm over his waist.

Following his remark, we both take a step away, then glance at each other as if trying to decipher what that reaction meant.

"We're roommates," Chandler jumps in. "Roomies. Bunkmates. Bedfellows," he follows in an old-timey accent. I nudge him and he clears his throat. "We live together."

Another sly grin appears on Joey's face. "Is there something else you do together?"

I look away and Chandler tenses.

"Not to my knowledge, no," Chandler says.

I am a little annoyed by his answer but then again, we never established what kind of relationship this is other than deciding to do it all over again tonight.

Or talk it over. Or both.

It's an unconvincing denial, but Joey seems to buy it.

"Oh, I get it. You're―" he trails off, looking at Chandler when a realization emerges on his face. "Does that mean you're single, Monica?"

He is Don Juan.

Surprised, I can only smile politely as Chandler takes a step forward to stand in front of me―adopting a weird aggressive posture facing Joey.

"She's my best friend's sister, so by extension, she's like my sister. Like my little sister, so you know the rules."

Little sister? The rules? What the hell?

"Oh, dude, sorry about that."

I roll my eyes and decide I can't be near these two cavemen anymore. "I have to go to work."

"See you tonight, sis?" Chanler jokes, and I can't believe he thought that was a good set of words to utter right now.

Ugh, that was most definitely Chandler The Roommate.

"Yeah, tonight," I answer. I look over at Joey and he's still smirking. Is he constantly in perv-mode?

It's my turn to clear my throat. "Tonight, for laundry night."

"Laundry night?" Chandler questions.

"Yes, our weekly laundry night. You haven't forgotten, have you, Bing?" I punch him lightly like a bro would and he winces.

"Ouch! No, I haven't. Laundry. Can't wait, Roomie."

"Wait, you two do laundry together?"

Maybe we're taking it too far.

"Yes, we do," Chandler says. "She loves laundry and she's an excellent folder."

Joey ponders his answer then ends up nodding and buying it again, somehow. We got lucky.

I exhale in relief. "Okay, I'm going. Welcome again, Joey."

He waves at me, and I hear him talk to Chandler as I go down the stairs.

"You lucky bastard. I want a hot roommate too!"

The prospect of our "laundry night" talk― okay, more accurately, laundry night sex―blocks out any hope of coherent thought while I'm at work.

The whole "little sister rule" reminds me that Chandler, for all his great qualities, and there are many, in and out of bed, is still a dude in his twenties; with the immaturity and lack of serious relationship experience that come with it.

And he's still my roommate.

Having one-time sex is one thing, a fully-fledged relationship with an immature roommate? Utopia.

I am convinced dating a roommate is always a bad idea. No matter how great the sex is, so much more is at risk: a friendship, an apartment in New York.

Every time I tried to picture it, it led inevitably to the worst-case scenario. I couldn't shake the pessimist in me.

Then why can't I stop looking at my watch every five minutes? I was never a clock-watcher at work, impatiently waiting for the end of my shift. I liked my job, I loved being a sous-chef at Iridium.

But today, I can't wait for my shift to be over so that I can see him … Just being with him is exciting. That shouldn't be the case, who's excited to see the roommate they live with 24/7?

I am so screwed.

Whatever our arrangement is―will be―one thing is certain. I can't freak him out and risk losing him. I want him but I need him as a roommate, as a friend even more.

It's 7 p.m. when I get home.

I pause for a moment before opening the door.

I hear noises. Unusual noises.

My curiosity trumps my nervousness, and I open the apartment to find three guys sitting on the couch in front of the TV.

"Hello," I say as I drop my keys on the counter,

They turn around and Ross is the first one to get up, walking to give me a quick hug.

"Hey, Mon. I met your new neighbor."

Joey turns his head, beer in his hand, waves it at me and turns again to the TV. I glance at Chandler, who's smiling softly at me, but I can read the slight worry in his eyes.

I didn't expect Ross to show up tonight.

I also didn't expect Joey to get so chummy with both my roommate and my brother.

"Hey, Joey, please make yourself comfortable," I say sarcastically. He lifts his beer at me and I shake my head.

I turn to my brother. "I didn't know you were coming, I didn't have time to make dinner."

"It's ok. I got big news and I couldn't wait to share it with you."

My brother is sporting the goofiest grin in the entire world so this should be good.

The guys turn around expectantly.

"I'm going to propose to Carol."

My eyes grow big and I squeal. I hug him. "Ross, that's amazing!"

"Finally!" Chandler says.

"Bummer," Joey whispers.

"Yeah, I got the ring. I got a reservation tomorrow night at her favorite restaurant … It's going to be great," he pauses. "I'm a little nervous."

"You two are crazy about each other, she'll say yes," I reassure him.

"I hope so. I thought I could hang out with you guys tonight to relax a little."

Oh.

How are we going to have our laundry arrangement with Neighbor Joey and Brother Ross around?

I look at Chandler and realize he's thinking the same thing.

He sniffs his shirt while looking at me, and it takes me a moment to realize what he means … laundry.

Yes! Laundry!

Such a simple, elegant solution. He's so smart.

"Well, you can hang out here ... I have to do my laundry. I'm out of clean towels."

I tilt my head toward Chandler, signaling him to follow my lead.

He stands up and sniffs his shirt exaggeratedly in front of them. "Yep, I need to do my laundry too."

"Wait a minute," Ross says. "You do laundry together? That's a little weird."

"I won't let him touch my stuff," I tell Ross, without thinking.

He scrunches up his face in disgust. "Gross. Why would you let me picture that?"

"We're doing our laundry separately. Just side by side."

"Plus, she's an excellent folder," Chandler says and everyone looks at him. "I don't know why I said that."

"Ross, there are leftovers in the fridge. Joey, there's plenty of beer."

"Your sister is awesome," Joey tells Ross, who's still less than thrilled at the prospect of me and Chandler doing laundry together.

He goes to him. "Don't touch my sister's underwear."

Chandler goes pale. "I won't touch your sister," he flusters, "or anything she owns or wears or touches."

"Ross, can you relax now?" I warn him.

"Die Hard is on!" Joey yells all of the sudden at the TV, Ross looks at him and gets very excited.

"Die Hard!"

Chandler makes a tempted step towards the TV, and I pull him back by his shirt.

"Chandler!"

"Oh, sorry. Laundry, of course. Die Hard, yuck."

We go downstairs to the laundry room in the building. Thankfully, there's no one else there. As soon as he closes the door behind us and we put down our baskets, Chandler picks me up and sits me on one of the washers.

I yelp and laugh. "Chandler!"

I look at him and I'm struck by the look of lust and desire in his eyes.

His hands are on my wrists, he lifts mine above my head then kisses me. His mouth devours mine like it was the best dessert served at a high-class restaurant. His tongue finds my upper lip, flicking twice until I gasp, and his tongue slides inside my mouth, tangling with mine, and I forget that we're friends or roommates or our names and remember only that he is man and I am woman and kissing is what we were meant to do.

I could kiss him for the rest of my life.

I can't help but think if we're making a mistake, it's the best mistake ever made in history because I've never experienced this kind of chemistry in my life.

Our lips finally separate.

"Better than Die Hard?" I tease.

"Much better," he says, giving me another quick peck. "I think I'll be the one dying hard."

I roll my eyes without stopping the smile off my face. "You know, I actually need to do laundry."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Plus, it will give us a chance to talk."

I look at him, trying to gauge his emotions or read his mind or spot a sign. "Right. Talking. Good."

We sort our respective pile of clothes as I smile at Chandler when I hand him my high-efficiency detergent that I usually hide, to use instead of his off-brand detergent.

We load the washers and we sit.

"So how would this work?" Chandler asks.

"I don't know. It was both our idea, you know. Haven't you thought about the details all day?"

"Monica, all I could think about was the possibility I could have mindblowing sex again with my hot roommate. Everything else is just … details."

I smirk, but I could still feel my cheeks heat up. I knew the sex was good for him too, but mindblowing … It's nice to know we felt the same things.

"Well," I say, licking my lips, the images from our tryst still flooding my mind, "How about the first rule is … there are no rules?"

Chandler purses his lips then laughs while squeezing his eyes. When I hit him lightly on the arm, he finally stopped. "Sorry I was distracted by … hell freezing over! Where are you talking about? You love rules."

"I know." I sigh. "But maybe that's why this needs to be different. The most important thing is that we don't want to ruin our friendship, do we?"

"No, we don't," he answers quickly.

"Let's say … there's no limit on how many times we can … do it. We stop when it stops being fun. Once the itch is scratched. Uncomplicated and fun."

"I'm all for the unlimited sex, trust me," he says, with a smirk. "Sex in a drawer. Friendship in a separate drawer."

"Exactly. And we go back to being friends when we're done."

"Get it out of our system."

I square my shoulders and give him my best show of confidence. "We are on the same page, then."

He nods, a little thoughtful.

Of course, he doesn't need to know I'm stupidly falling for him. I'll just have to stop myself from falling further. This arrangement won't need to be more than a sweet little tryst with my … cute-hot, amazing in bed, best friend roommate.

I'm tossing out in the trash all those strange sensations in my chest. It's just sex and friendship, and nothing more.

"Is this an exclusive thing?" he asks.

"I'm thinking …" I pause to see how he'll react to my proposition. "It's just us, for as long as we're doing this … but when we're done, we can go on with our lives."

"Okay," he says simply.

I twist my mouth as I start to think about the logistics. "Maybe we need some kind of safe word."

"What?" Chandler's eyes go wide. "Geller, what kind of kinky things are you into?" he goes on, wiggling his eyebrows. "Cause I'm adventurous and willing to try but nothing too―"

"Stop that!" I say, rolling my eyes. "Maybe not a safe word, but a signal … if we're stuck like tonight."

He shrugs. "Fine. What is it?"

I tap my fingers against my chin, thinking until an idea springs to mind. "Laundry. Codeword for … the deal."

"Okay, anything else?" he says, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"You have to keep your sheets clean. Otherwise, it's always going to be my bed."

"I see you've already abandoned your 'no rules' rule."

"Take it or leave it, Bing."

"Fine. I'll take it. You need to tell me where you hide your fancy detergent then."

I smile. "Okay."

He smiles back. "Okay."

A short moment of silence follows, we glance at each other.

"When do we start?" Chandler asks.

"Well, we can't tonight because… Ross."

"How about here?" Chandler stands up, already unbuttoning his shirt.

"Chandler! Anyone could walk in on us. Let's not traumatize our neighbors."

"Fine. Tomorrow?"

"Ross will propose to Carol, they'll probably come to the apartment to celebrate," I say and Chandler looks disappointed.

"Hey, you have an afternoon shift tomorrow, right?"

I nod, he remembers my schedule. The strange sensation is back in my chest.

"I can get away from work at lunch," he says in a suggestive tone.

"Like … a nooner?" I whisper in a scandalized tone.

"Yes, Miss Geller. Will you be available for a meeting at noon?"

"I will be available, Mr. Bing."

We laugh as Chandler helps me stand up and we high five. I'm relieved to see nothing has changed, we bicker and we tease each other.

Nothing feels different, nothing feels weird.

Except I can't wait for him to sneak out of work tomorrow.

"I can't believe Ross is going to get married," he says when I retrieve my clothes from the washer to put in the dryer.

"I know. But it was about time. Ross and Carol have been together forever now."

"Yeah, I guess they've been pretty serious since college. It's hard to think of a time they weren't together. I just … you know, I've never witnessed a marriage or a relationship working out around me. Deep down, I didn't expect theirs to work out."

I look at him, thoughtful, and I'm taken aback. Chandler doesn't believe in relationships working out.

Or marriage.

"Sometimes it works out."

He doesn't say anything to that.

Yesterday was more than just sex.

But from now on … it can't be.