All characters in this story are 18 years old or older. Also, all characters, organizations, and events contained in this story are fictional, and any similarities to real people, organizations, and events is purely coincidental (except for the name drop of a certain pornstar, 'cause she's a real person).
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I am pretty good friends with my landlord. My neighbors would tell you that's impossible, but it's true. You see, our relationship is rather unique. No, not in that way. We have history. Let me back up.
My landlord, who I still call Mr. Becket despite his insistence that I can call him Bob now, is a very close friend of my parents. As a matter of fact, he was the best man at their wedding. You know that unspoken rule that friends have to drift apart as they get older? OK, maybe it's not a rule, but if it were, my parents and Mr. Becket definitely would have broken it. They all kept hanging out together, even after I was born. It was pretty cool, actually. Mr. Becket in many ways was like a second father to me. A much cooler, more fun father than my actual dad.
Why am I telling you this? Well, because he's the reason I have my current living situation. See, after I flunked out of school thanks to what my teachers called a "poor work ethic," my parents thought telling me that I had to leave the house and fend for myself would "teach me to be an adult." When Mr. Becket found out, he got me a job at a local restaurant and let me live in one of his apartments for half the price. His only two conditions were that I had to keep the job and be willing to live with a roommate if my paying half price ever became a problem for him. Seeing as the job wasn't too hard and the apartment was a two-bed, two-bath, I saw no problem with that.
So while everyone else in the complex found themselves living with the rules of a strict landlord (Mr. Becket's business persona), I was living it up in an apartment that was basically gifted to me by my second dad. And for the next few months everything stayed the same. I lived in the apartment by myself, went to work five days a week, and my parents remained oblivious to the whole arrangement. Life had become a routine, and I was surprised to find that I liked that routine.
Then everything changed. Several of the residents at the complex decided they had had enough of Mr. Becket's rules and left when their leases were up. Mr. Becket soon needed all the help he could get, so we put out an ad saying that I was in need of a new roommate. Within days, we had several responses. After weeding out the ones that didn't meet Mr. Becket's requirements, I was presented with three options for a new roommate. The first was a college student. Nope, not dealing with all of that late-night partying. The second was an accountant. Boring. The third was a photographer who apparently traveled a lot and just needed a place to crash whenever he wasn't on assignment. Nice. At least I would be able to keep my old routine some of the time.
The day of my new roommate's arrival finally came. I asked off of work that day so I could help him move in. Gotta give a good first impression. The day past slowly. I finally turned on a movie to pass the time. That movie ended and still no roommate. I started another movie, finished it, and started another. No one came. By mid-afternoon I was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong.
Then I heard it. A key going into the keyhole at the front door. The lock turned. I paused my movie and stood up to greet my new roommate. The door opened, and I could barely contain my surprise. The person standing before me was not the photographer who was supposed to be moving in. Instead, I saw before me one of the most gorgeous girls I had ever seen. She had long, dark, curled hair, beautiful green eyes, a slender frame, long smooth legs that were exposed by her short shorts, and a great pair of tits that I couldn't see much of, but her tight fitting shirt left little to the imagination. She could not contain her surprise at seeing me. "Who the fuck are you?" she yelled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I-I live here," I replied, taken aback by her reaction.
"Like hell you do," she snapped.
Oh boy. This was not how I expected this day to go. One minute I was just watching a movie, waiting for my roommate to show up. The next minute I have this really hot girl standing in my doorway who is clearly more than a little upset by my presence in my own apartment. I took a deep breath and said, "OK, calm down. There has probably just been a little mix-up. I'll call the landlord and see if we can get this thing straightened out."
"Fine," she replied, calming down a little.
I reached for my phone and began searching my contacts for Mr. Becket. I had just hit the button to call him when I realized that this girl was still standing in the doorway. "Come in and take a seat," I said in the friendliest voice I could muster. "This might take a second."
She sighed and begrudgingly entered and sat on the sofa. I noticed her eyebrow lifted when she saw my movie paused on the TV screen. She had recognized what movie it was, but I didn't have time to determine if she approved or disapproved of my film tastes before Mr. Becket answered the phone. "Thomas!" Mr. Becket exclaimed. "I was just about to call you."
"No kidding?" I replied. The girl glanced at me, clearly wondering why the hell I had said that.
"Yeah," Mr. Becket continued. "I just got off the phone with your new roommate. It seems I gave him a key to one of my empty apartments by mistake, and now he wants to renegotiate the lease so he can keep it. I told him I normally wouldn't do that, but seeing as how he was willing to pay for a whole apartment all to himself, I would make an exception. So I guess we're going to have to pick a new roommate for you."
"Yeah, about that," I said. "I think you may have given someone else his key. Or at least, what should have been his key."
"Oh, shit," Mr. Becket muttered. "I must have switched the keys by accident. Well, ask him if he would like to just switch a pay half price."
"That's not going to work, Mr. Becket," I replied.
"Why not?" he asked.
"He is a she," I answered.
"Oh, shit," Mr. Becket muttered again. "I'm sorry, son, I just fucked up worse than I thought. Tell her to come back to the office and I'll see about getting her in a different apartment."
"OK, thanks, Mr. Becket," I said.
"Yeah," he replied. "Have a good one."
"You too," I answered and then hung up the phone. As I put my phone back in my pocket, I turned to the girl and said, "OK, so I was right, there has been a little mix-up."
"What happened?" She seemed a little less upset now. Now she just seemed a little anxious.
"Well, I was expecting a new roommate today, and it seems that Mr. Becket accidentally gave him your key and you his key," I explained.
"OK," she stood up, looking quite relieved. "So I guess we just have to switch keys."
I took in a sharp breathe and said, "Not quite."
"What?" Great, she was upset again.
"OK, don't freak out, but he wants to keep your apartment," I continued in my best calming voice. "But don't worry, Mr. Becket will set you up with another apartment if you go down to his office right now."
"Alright," she sighed and turned for the door. Just as she got to the door, she stopped and turned back toward me. "Look, um," she said, "I'm sorry I freaked out on you earlier. I just wasn't expecting to see anyone in my apartment when I opened the door."
"Totally understandable," I replied. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"It wasn't your fault," she shook her head, "but thanks for saying it."
"You're welcome," I smiled.
She smiled back, letting out a quiet laugh as she did so. "I'm Kailee," she said.
"Thomas," I replied, smiling again.
"Thomas," she repeated and then smiled again. "Thank you, Thomas."
"Don't mention it," I nodded.
She stood there for a moment and turned back toward the door. She opened the door, but hesitated to step out. She turned back toward me. "So I guess you'll be needing a new roommate, huh?" she asked.
