I shrugged and let out a breath. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. It was a temp job; you can’t just pop up whenever you feel like it. I just hope that he finds what he’s looking for…with someone capable of returning his affections.”
“Sorry,” Angel whispered, her lower lip jutted out.
I gave her a sincere smile. “Don’t be. I made a huge mistake getting involved with someone on the job, especially my boss. You live and you learn, and I certainly won’t be doing that again. Plus, I’m used to…being this way. I wish I could say I was used to hurting people but I don’t think anyone gets used to being a cold, heartless bitch.”
Angel propped her custom-detailed pink guitar against its stand and came over to wrap her arms around me. “Kamilla Duvall, you are not a cold, heartless bitch. You just haven’t met the one worth giving your heart to. So it’s just a little harder to find because you’ve been burying it for so long.”
I squeezed her forearm circled around my chest and rested my head against hers. “Thanks, boo.”
“And since you won’t take me up on my offer of love, affection and mind-blowing sex, I highly doubt we’ll be excavating it any time soon,” she snickered.
I gave the blonde bombshell a pinch on her thigh and pushed her away. “Ewww, Angel! You know that will never happen. I am strictly dickly,” I laughed.
She made her way back to her guitar, shaking with laughter. “Well, it’s been hard to tell, seeing as there haven’t been any dicks coming through here in a while.”
I stuck my tongue out at her though I knew she was right. “But between you and Dom, there’s been plenty of pussies. Pussy galore!”
“Hey did someone say my name?” a deep voice called from behind us. We spun around to see our third roommate, and my most favorite person in the entire world, Dominic Trevino wearing only boxers and a lazy, satisfied grin.
“Depends. Is your name Pussy Galore?” Angel asked between singing the melody from before.
Dominic, or Dom as we called him, ran a hand through his jet-black bed head and gave us a sly smile. “No, but after the night I had, it sure was Pussy Galore in my room. One word: twins!”
Angel and I both cringed at the thought and let out a simultaneous Ewwww. I loved Dom more than anyone in this world, and he was probably the only person who had ever fully understood me and loved me anyway, but he could be disgusting. He pretty much slept with anything in a skirt, and being that he was tall, dark, and amazingly handsome with penetrating brownish-green eyes, most skirts flocked to him in droves. I knew his whorish ways stemmed from the downright horrific things he experienced as a child so I didn’t chastise him too much about it. But I worried about him. And I hoped one day that he would find someone special to fill the void he kept trying to satisfy with nameless women.
“So are you staying for practice today?” Angel asked me, trying to steer the conversation from Dom’s latest sexcapades.
“Nah. I think I’m gonna get out there and pound the pavement some more.”
Angel sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Kam! Just join the band already. You could be making money from performances and with your voice, we’d probably score even more gigs. I don’t know why you keep depriving yourself and the rest of us of something you know makes sense. You were born to sing!”
I sighed because I had heard this speech before. “Angel, you know why I won’t join. I don’t need that kind of attention. It’s…not smart. Not safe. Besides, I like being head cheerleader for AngelDust,” I smiled, hoping to appease her.
Angel perked up and I gave myself a mental pat on the back. A little stroke of her ego and she was putty in my hands. “I just want you up on that stage with me. The world should get to experience your gift.”
“Angel, you are an amazing artist! What are you talking about? The way you perform and captivate the audience…I could never, ever do something like that. And you are a much better musician than me.”
Shrugging, she twirled a long lock of blond hair between her fingers. This week, she had added hot pink extensions in honor of receiving her new guitar. “But you’re a better singer. And I know singing makes you happy.”
“Geez, enough of the Vagina Monologues!” Dom interjected playfully. “My dick just shriveled up into beef jerky!”
Angel gagged. “Gross. Sounds like Gonorrhea. I told you about picking up those gutter sluts. Don’t leak any shit on my rug. I just had it cleaned.”
“Carpet muncher,” Dom sneered.
“Whore,” I shot back at him in Angel’s defense.