Three's a Crowd Pt. 01

"I guess," I said while scratching my head. Barbara's reasoning was completely logical of course, from her perspective, but she was oblivious to the true nature of my living arrangement with Jasmine. The mere thought of asking her to leave terrified me. I mean, what if she told Barbara about everything that had been happening for the past two years? My relationship would likely be over instantly. "It's just not an easy conversation to have." I slipped my hands into my pockets, looked towards the floor and kicked the toe of my shoe against the table leg. "I'm not good with stuff like this."

"You know this isn't a jealousy thing, right?" Barbara added, and honestly, that thought hadn't even entered my head. She took a step towards me and gently squeezed my bicep. "I know she's attractive. Is that why you've been keeping us apart? But it's not even about that. I really think you need to ask her to leave, for your own good. Even if we weren't dating, this whole situation is very unhealthy. She's totally mooching off you, and if there's going to be a future between us, James, then we can't have a third wheel constantly in the way." She placed a fingertip beneath my chin and lifted my head so our eyes met. "Imagine it, we want to have some alone time and she marches through the room in her underwear? We're not in student housing, James, and I'm uncomfortable with some scantily-clad girl constantly barging in on us."

"She's not like that, but okay. I get it."

"Do you need me to speak with her? Is that it?" There was kindness and genuine concern in her eyes. "Is it difficult because you're friends? Maybe if it's coming from me it'll be easier, especially since I'm much older?"

Though the idea of Barbara taking the responsibility from me was tempting, I was fearful of how Jasmine would respond to such a request from my girlfriend. She could easily lash out and expose me. Though I had been dating Barbara for half a year now, I still hadn't fully disclosed my particular interests to her, the interests that Jasmine was painfully aware of. Barbara knew that I was a giving person, but as far as she understood, this was just bore out of kindness; the Jasmine situation almost being confirmation of that. In her eyes, I had helped out a work colleague, who had subsequently taken advantage of me. But the truth was, a truth I was too shy to share with her, was that I just liked being used by demanding girls. Especially beautiful, bratty girls like Jasmine. I hadn't had the courage to truly confess all of my fantasies to my girlfriend, and pissing off Jasmine would probably lead to an onslaught of revelations which Barbara would feel totally betrayed by. Revelations that may have been passable if I'd be honest and eased her in, but I'd turned this whole situation into a clusterfuck. I mean, they hadn't even met, and Barbara wanted to roll up and say: Hi, pleased to meet you, now, would you kindly fuck off? Jasmine would implode my life while being dragged from her free-ride.

The safer option was for me to have a soft, quiet word with Jasmine. It had been a good two years, and she'd certainly done well out of our peculiar understanding. Obviously, it couldn't last forever, and she was fully aware that things were going very well with my girlfriend. In fact, she'd been supportive of our dating from the start, as long as it didn't change things between the two of us; as long as it didn't affect our living arrangement. Perhaps my misgivings were unnecessary and I was doing Jasmine a disservice. I mean, she'd been completely understanding and indulging when it came to my fantasies, hadn't she? She'd surely show equal level-headedness when it came to my romantic life. The times we had shared had been fun, but now, things needed to get serious. I had a genuine chance at a healthy, normal future with Barbara, and I couldn't throw that away because of some odd kink.

"I'll do it," I said. "You can get off to work. I'll have a conversation with her and sort it out."

"You'll do it right now?" she asked, clear disbelief on her face. "Because I know what you're like." She rolled her eyes. "How many times have you already promised to take me to your apartment and introduce us? It must be a hundred by now, and we still haven't met."

"You want me to call her now?"

Barbara shook her head and finished up her coffee. "Don't be silly. I'm guessing she's home right now?"

"Now?" I asked, shocked and already fearful of confronting my housemate. "Can I at least have the time to plan what I'm going to say?"

"We can talk about it on the walk over. Come on, no time like the present." She stood and was already leading me towards the exit.

I'd managed to keep Barbara away from my apartment, and with it, Jasmine, for a full six months, but it seemed that was about to come to an end. Barbara encouraged me down the street with such enthusiasm, such confidence and a determination that I was helpless to oppose. They were bold attributes that I adored her for, but they were nothing in comparison to the arsenal my housemate possessed.

Outside my apartment, I was fumbling the keys, terrified about what was going to happen once I dropped this bombshell on Jasmine. I already knew that she was going to be pissed off if I suggested she was to move out. Why would she do that? For the past two years, she'd had a free ride at my place, and that was what we had agreed upon. In return for her indulging me, she got to live at my place for free and I pretty much took care of everything. Other people would find it extremely weird, but it worked for us, and we were both happy with how things were. Outside the apartment I was free to do whatever I wanted, thus my relationship with Barbara. However, Jasmine was the one in charge inside my own home, and she'd been firm about that from the beginning, making sure this was exactly what I'd wanted. The fact we had once worked together, and I had actually been her superior, was simply the icing on the cake as far as I was concerned.

"Open the door already," Barbara insisted. "I know you're stalling, James. Stop being such a scaredy cat. She's a grown woman, she must have known this was coming eventually."

I was petrified, as the two of them had never actually met. they'd seen photos of each other, where Barbara had wrinkled her nose at how pretty Jasmine was, whereas my housemate had snorted and quipped that she wasn't surprised that was the best I could do. I mean, I thought Barbara was pretty, but according to Jasmine, I was mistaken. She'd always been like that though, looking down her nose at people she considered beneath her, or rolling her eyes at girls that weren't pretty. That was part of the reason my fucked-up brain found her so endearing.

I hesitantly walked along the hallway towards Jasmine's room, thankful that she wasn't lazing around watching television. At least I wasn't granted a few extra seconds of reprieve, before I paused while staring at her door.

"Is that where she is?" Barbara asked.

I nodded glumly, though praying Jasmine wasn't actually home. Even if she wasn't, there was a feeling of resignation, where I couldn't kick this can down the road any further. "You better get off to work," I said. "Leave me here. I'll get it sorted."

"If I leave you here, you'll chicken out and we'll be having the same argument again next week." She rolled her eyes at me, already knowing me better than I knew myself.

"I promise I'll do it," I said. "But please, let me do this alone? If this happens the first time she meets you, it's going to make this so much worse."

"You'll do it, right now?" She cocked her head at me and waited, then when I failed to respond in any way, Barbara brushed passed me towards Jasmine's room. Before I had a chance to process what was happening, she'd loudly knocked the door multiple times.

"What are you doing?" I whispered in a hushed tone while scampering after her. "Don't do that!"

"What?" I heard Jasmine shout impatiently from inside her room. "What is it?"

I flinched in fear, but Barbara merely giggled. "She sounds a handful," she said, then while covering her mouth, she added, "I'm making sure you do what you're told."

Immediately, a wave of apprehension washed over me, more so than the first time I took Barbara out on a date. I was never one for being put on the spot and this kind of situation made me extremely nervous. I gulped, my body already trembling as I heard Jasmine's feet stomping across the floorboards. When she was alone in her room, she didn't like to be disturbed, unless she'd explicitly instructed me to do so via a text or whatever. That had been one of the firm rules of our arrangement; the apartment was hers to use as she pleased, but her room was firmly off-limits to me unless invited.

As if to make matters even worse, Barbara gave me a final thumbs up as she backed down the hallway, looking around for somewhere to hide, before yanking open the restroom. "Be a big boy," she whispered with a nod of her head. "You can do it. Get rid of her!"

Almost in an act of synchronicity, as the restroom door closed behind my girlfriend, Jasmine's swung open, revealing her stood there with a grimace. She was wearing nothing but a t-shirt that came down just above her knees, and as I squinted, I realised it was one of my own that had disappeared some months back. Things like that tended to happen a lot, but it was just another confirmation of Jasmine being entitled to anything that was mine. She wanted the shirt, so she'd taken it. Thankfully, Barbara had never been aware that it was my shirt in the first place. Seeing Jasmine swanning around the apartment in it would have raised even more questions; questions that I really didn't know how to answer. While she scowled in my direction at the interruption, my eyes uncontrollably lurched downwards in search of the part of her that had initiated this whole situation, a part of her that I had hidden my penchant for from my girlfriend: Jasmine's feet. Her black-painted nails wiggled impatiently, the silver rings on the second toe of each foot gleamed, her signature tattoo on the top of one foot almost taunted me, and I was reminded once more with how this had all escalated out of my control. Even as I stared down at her feet, Barbara's instructions fresh in mind, I couldn't bear the thought of Jasmine leaving. The past two years had been so fantastic with her living at my apartment, and despite wanting a future with my girlfriend, I couldn't imagine my life without my housemate in it. A life of being at her beck and call.

"Eyes up, bitch boy," she said rather loudly, and I cringed, sweat trickling down my back, convinced that it was loud enough for Barbara to have heard. "You think you get to gawp all over my feet after bothering me like this?"

"I...uh...sorry," I said in a hushed tone.

"Sorry, what?"

"Sorry, Queen Jasmine," I said in barely a whisper, again, nervously glancing back over my shoulder, convinced the restroom door was about to slam open and an enraged girlfriend would come bounding over.

With that, Jasmine's annoyance seemed to dissipate and her youthful beauty re-merged. Her spunky, strands of purple-dyed hair, amongst her natural black, were a sight to behold, along with the piercing in the corner of her nose. She almost looked like that same innocent girl that had turned up for work two years ago, a young girl still in the stages of experimenting with her own identity, and for a moment, I couldn't even believe that we had come this far.

"So, what do you want, bitch boy?" she asked while smirking.

I swallowed nervously.

You see, despite Barbara thinking as much, Jasmine wasn't a regular housemate. She never had been. I'd known she was special from the first day I'd met her. She was an old employee of mine. I'd taken a job in a local fast food restaurant and had gradually worked my way up to manager. After about five years at the helm, Jasmine had come on board as a team member at the ripe old age of eighteen, her first job, and while still living with her parents. Even in the greasy uniform she had been a sight to behold and I had been smitten with her from day one. The way the tight pants had hugged her peachy ass and how even with her hair tied in a ponytail beneath the standard baseball cap, she had still managed to look jaw-dropping. She had these sharp features, with pronounced cheekbones and a ski-slope nose, marked with a ring in one nostril, all above the juiciest, plumpest lips I'd ever seen.

Despite that, the uniform requirements were a killer, even for a young, beautiful girl like her. She had almost looked dorky as she had worn the same boring shirt, pants and plain black slip-on shoes that the rest of us had to. This had been further compounded by her bright, dyed hair swinging from the rear of the similarly dorky baseball cap which sported the restaurant's logo. Of course, I had found this incredibly frustrating, due to Jasmine's attractive features, her smooth, blemish-free skin, her youthful and slender body, her punk-like attitude and the way she had an aura-like ability to draw people in. All of the boys on shift that day had glanced at each other and nodded at the new girl, but as the manager, it was left up to me to introduce her to the set-up. I had jumped into the task with enthusiasm, and while leading Jasmine around the restaurant, I had noted the jealous looks from the other employees; even some of the customers. I had kind of lost myself in the fantasy that we were a couple as I showed her around, and it felt good to live in that feeling, however fake it was. I had gone out of my way to make a good impression, and I had wanted to make her work transition as easy as possible. I had wanted her to like me, more than anything. I mean, if I was nice enough to her, she'd date me, wouldn't she? Such a fantasy, that seemed so crazy, could actually become a reality. I just had to go out of my way to make her feel welcome and make myself an approachable boss. Even I could admit, that whenever a pretty girl like Jasmine joined the restaurant, I'd treat them better than the other employees. It wasn't an intentional strategy or anything, it was just something that had always naturally occurred.

In my years of isolation from the dating scene, and my ability to shrink away from any sort of romantic interaction with women, I'd developed an infatuation-like response to pretty girls. I'd pander to them, I'd aim to please them, deluding myself into thinking they'd see me as a viable match, however, I'd never actually ask them out. I had always been too afraid, and instead, I'd just hover around, basically doing anything they wanted to seek their approval. For some reason, my continued rejection and indifference from these women had sort of crystallised, and perhaps in an attempt to cope with the continued disinterest, I had grown to enjoy the way these women that I desired constantly brushed me off. It was almost like I had developed a way to turn their rejection to my advantage, to in effect, gain something for myself from it.

That first time Jasmine had arrived for her induction day, I was immediately overwhelmed with excitement at getting to work with such a youthful and beautiful girl. The women that usually arrived were either older, large in the midriff, or not at all my type; my type being the alpha sort of female that paid me no mind at all. I'd initially go through this phase where I'd delude myself into believing that a girl such as her would find me both interesting and attractive, even saying to myself: this is the one. That once she had realised my suitability, from there, some kind of romantic relationship would bloom. But, I had always left it to the girl to make a move.

Of course, this never, ever, happened, and what would begin with politeness and patience, would eventually result in a girl either friendzoning or ghosting me. That was just the inevitable resolution to any interaction I had with a female. I couldn't even place why it was the natural course, but I was abundantly aware of it happening as I set out on the same trajectory again and again. I was alright looking, and of average height, and I didn't have a harmful bone in my body. Being a manager in the restaurant, I earned a decent wage and I had my own car and apartment. It wasn't as if I was some kind of social outcast or anything. Of course, there was the whole element of working together, but I'd seen other employees get together, and even on one occasion a fellow manager had paired up with a new starter.

My loneliness could only have been because I was painfully shy and lacked confidence when it came to women. It was as if they could immediately sense it upon speaking to me, and I'd recognised that immediate twinkle in Jasmine's eye after the first time we spoke. My words had been nervous as I showed her around. There had been no composure and authority, with my voice constantly wavering and lacking conviction. To make matters worse, I had struggled to look her in her pretty eyes, and my eyes had often dropped downwards, awkwardly lingering on her black shoes, wondering what her feet looked like. This was something I often did whenever we had a girl start at the restaurant, and it had almost began as a confidence thing, with me avoiding eye contact. Though, it had later developed to a greater focus on their actual feet. That was something I couldn't fully explain, but I had always had a thing for pretty girls, and once I realised that even their feet could be pretty, it had stirred something inside me. Almost as if not only were these girls too good for me, but even their feet were too. Whenever a new girl had started at the restaurant, I'd be overcome with curiousity about how their feet looked. Unfortunately, the dress-code required closed-toe, black shoes, so usually, I'd just leave it at that. However, Jasmine was so young, and such a beauty, that despite knowing she was adhering to the dress code, I still couldn't shake my curiosity and wanted more than anything to find out how beautiful her feet were. I mean, imagine if her feet were just as beautiful, along with the rest of her? Imagine I got to date a girl like that!

I had been so obvious in my behaviour that she must have seen straight through it. However, she didn't say a word or call me out for my weirdness, instead nodding along as I had shown her around the restaurant while she asked the odd question. Every time my eyes had dropped down to her shoes, and I'd hesitate or stumble over an answer, Jasmine would look at me curiously, before a slight smirk would come to her lips. She had probably just thought I was some uncool, odd, awkward guy. The kind of guy that was completely out of touch with the youth of today, but, that seemed to relax her somewhat, and her true personality had begun to come through. I hadn't been a threat, or an asshole to her, and she seemed to appreciate that. As we had moved between appliances, I noticed that her questions became less formal, and rather more jokey. I liked that, and I had encouraged it, making a few jokes of my own that seemed to fall flat. But, she had been fun, spunky and easy on the eyes from that first day; what more could I have asked for in an employee?

During that initial morning, and as she settled in and learned how things work, I had learned that Jasmine's attractiveness was just the icing on the cake, because it was her attitude that I had found utterly enticing and unable to resist. While I had been walking her around and explaining how things work, Jasmine had come across as being increasingly uninterested. What had begun as honest questions, and then became jokes, gradually turned to bored expressions of exasperation. The more she had realised that it was a hard, tiring job, and she'd actually have to do a lot of work, the more she seemed to lose interest.