Roommate's Mixed Messages

Eric catches Sylvie in that long T-shirt that barely covers anything. He tries not to stare. She, on the other hand, treats him like one of the girls, chatting about her girlfriend Marian stopping by tomorrow while she peels the shirt off and walks away naked like it's Tuesday. Eric stands there looking like he just got slapped with a wet sock. Next afternoon the bedroom door is wide open and Sylvie's busy between Marian's legs, fingers moving slow and steady. They notice Eric passing but just wave, like he's dropping off pizza. A couple days after that he comes home from the gym and Sylvie gives his biceps a squeeze, slaps his ass, all buddy-buddy, while he grinds his teeth. Then he gets off work early and hears the moans again. Enough. He marches to her room to tell her to shut the damn door and stops cold. Paula's under Sylvie now, not Marian, and both of them are making plenty of noise. Sylvie hustles Eric into the living room, nervous. She asks him to keep quiet, says they're tight, right? Eric blows up, says her head games are driving him crazy and he's packing his stuff and maybe having a word with Marian. That gets Sylvie's attention. She offers to even things out the quickest way she knows how, right here, right now. Eric says fine, but Paula stays and everybody's getting naked.