The Roommate (10 page)

Water was running on the other side of the shower wall.
 
A quiet moan.
 
My eyes widened.
 
Was he…?
 
Unable to resist, I put my ear to the tile.
 
Oh my God
.

Was he thinking of someone or just getting rid of morning wood?

A final louder groan, then nothing but the water running for another five minutes as he bathed.
 
I’d heard Patrick climax
.
 
The fogginess of my hangover was long gone.

I stepped away from the wall and my nipples puckered at the brush of cotton.
 
The nightgown went over my head.
 
My roommate wouldn’t be the only one with an orgasm in the shower this morning.

Chapter Eleven

“You look better.”
 
Patrick was stirring something on the stove.

“I feel better. Thank you.
Ros
asked me to drop by today, so I don’t know how long I’ll be out.”

“Ah.”
 
He put a bowl on the breakfast bar.

“What’s that?”

“Oatmeal.
Easy on your stomach.”

“Seriously?”

“Try it, Jess.”

Sighing, I did, and okay…whatever he’d seasoned it with made it not half-bad.
 
My stomach gurgled, but I didn’t get nauseous.
 
“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Keep that down, and if you’re still hungry, you can have something else.”

“Okay.”

“Rosalind texted me a thank you for coming.”

“See? You did the right thing.”

He rolled his eyes.
 
“Let it go, Jess.”

The oatmeal sat okay, so he made me scrambled eggs and hash browns next.

“You could come with me.”

He waved it off.
 
“Go have girl time.”

Turns out, this was the last day I’d see
Ros
.
 
She had to fly for business tomorrow and a moving company would be packing and shipping her stuff this week.
 
This was goodbye.

I came home with a puffy face.
 
My normally not-touchy-feely roommate took one look at me and hugged me.
 
I sighed into his t-shirt.
 
“This would really suck without you here.”

“Was it this bad when you parted for college?”

I looked up at him.
 
“No. We made all kinds of promises about keeping in touch and seeing each other at holidays and we believed it. This time, we know things are gonna change.”

Standing in the circle of his arms felt like the perfect place to be, even though he was a foot taller than me.

He wiped away a tear I hadn’t felt on my cheekbone.
 
“I’m sorry you’re in pain.”

“Like I said, having you here helps.”

He smiled at me.
 
A second or two of staring into each other’s eyes, then he pulled away.

Moment broken.

“I was going to run by the grocery store tonight,” he said.

“Okay.”

“You can come if you want.”

“You just don’t want to carry everything on a bicycle.”

“I’m caught. I’ve been using you for your car,” he deadpanned.
 

The snorting laugh that brought out wasn’t very ladylike.
 
It still surprised me when he made jokes.
 
He was such the straight-man all the time.
 
I released him.
 
“Okay, let’s go.”

When you’re with someone that likes to cook, you learn new things, like it’s apparently a necessity to go to more than one grocery store.
 
This one had the best prices on shelf staples, that one had the best produce, another had the best butcher.
 
How he’d even discovered all this, I can’t tell you.
 
It mystified me, but I went along, shuttling him everywhere he wanted to go and arguing over the bills.
 
He’d just been paid on the 15
^th
.
 
I insisted on buying the stuff specifically for me.
 
Most important thing—it got my mind off
Ros
for a couple hours.

Once we were home, he put a frozen meal in the oven and we turned on a movie.
 
I took advantage of my perceived need for comfort and leaned on his shoulder.
 
Would’ve been really nice to hold hands, but that wasn’t us.

After dinner—Stouffer’s lasagna was quite tasty—I got ready for bed.
 
Before turning in, I chanced a quick peck on his cheek.
 
“Thank you for being there for me this weekend. I appreciate it more than you know. Goodnight, Patrick.”
 
Then escaped into my bedroom.

When I got to work in the morning, Lydia informed the floor that it was corporate’s anniversary Friday and we were all getting half the day off.
 
Yeah!

“Hold on. The reason you have a half day is there is a formal banquet Friday evening. Two tickets have been left on all your desks, for you and a guest. Attendance is
strongly encouraged
.”

I texted Patrick:
Do you have a tux?

That is a random question
, he replied.

Work thing Friday.
Formal
.

Now it makes sense
.

We all got 2 tickets, so
.

I’ll see what I can do.
Can talk later
.

Okay
.

“Will I see Hot Roommate on Friday?”
 
Lydia.
 
She had a real knack for sneaking up on my desk.

“I don’t know.”

“You asked him, right?”

“You just saw me texting.”

“Yeah, but I’m nosy. What’d he say?”

“Lydia…”

“So he didn’t say no.”

“No, he didn’t say no.
Yet
.
Geesh.
Can I get to work now?”

She grinned.
 
“By all means.”

In the afternoon, Patrick texted:
What time Friday?

7:00

Okay
.

Was that a yes, or just gathering details?
 
I was way too nervous about his answer.
 
Wanted him at my side too much.

If Patrick didn’t go, I could probably ask Matt.
 
He was good with people.

But I really wanted to see my roommate in a tux.

Chapter Twelve

Friday

Got off work at one.
 
Picked up my dress from having the hem shortened and took it to the salon so we could come up with a style to match.
 
Forty-five minutes later, I had an up-do that wouldn’t fall no matter how much dancing I might do.

The party was at a country club in Malibu, so a notable drive from home.
 
I couldn’t really drive in my long dress, so it was hanging in the backseat.

I ate light today.
 
Made sure I had everything from earrings to clutch purse to undergarments.
 
Triple-checked.
 
It was a new dress and I was nervous.
 
This was my first big company party since they only did this anniversary shindig once every five years.

At four, Lydia called to say she’d hired a limo.
 
Did I want a ride?
 
Yes!

So much easier to dress at home.
 
Got the dress and shoes on by five and went downstairs to wait for the pick-up.
 
She had several people from our floor in the car.

“Great color,” Lydia said.
 
“Can’t wait to see the whole dress.”

“Thanks.”
 
I wore a coat, so only my skirt was visible.

We’d probably arrive early even with traffic, but that was okay.
 
Gave me more time to prepare to meet the big bosses.
 
The party was at Braemar Country Club, which was actually in Tarzana.
 
California
contemporary style, with a recent makeover of the whole property, according to the website.
 
We were directed to a large ballroom.

Tables for dining, a lounge area, mood lighting, fresh flowers…corporate had spared no expense.
 
And the view was beautiful.
 
The club sat on a hill.
 
A few people had also arrived early and already milled about with drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

When you wear a red dress, men notice.
 
I’d checked my coat, so the deep red fabric was on full display.
 
Lydia raised a glass to me in approval.
 
This was a more daring choice than I usually made, but I couldn’t resist the gown once I spotted it.

I stayed near the entrance, looking for my date to arrive around seven.
 
Hearing women’s voices suddenly murmuring, I turned to the door.
 
Great merciful Zeus
.

Patrick stood at the threshold wearing a tuxedo that accentuated his shoulders and slim waist.
 
While I’d love to see him without them, his glasses didn’t detract from the look at all.
 
The one drawback was that his hair had been cut short enough the curls were gone.
 
He scanned the crowd for me, and I saw his expression transform the moment he found me.
 
His gaze traveled slowly head to toe and back again before meeting my eyes.
 
My skin was suddenly hot, certainly on its way to matching my dress.
 
He walked straight to me.

“You…”

“Yes?”

“You, uh…, you look beautiful.”
 
Shyness returning, his gaze shifted somewhere behind me.

I took pity on him by switching the topic.
 
“You found the place okay.”

He nodded.
 
“Yes.”
 
Since he still had to work until five-
ish
, he’d rented a car.

“They have drinks and stuff already. Would you like anything?”

“Lead the way.”

So I took him to the bar, where he ordered a club soda and downed it in short order.
 
Okay, parched.
 
Had I done that?
 
“You clean up pretty well, Mr. Clark.”

“Thank you. Nice place.”

“Yep.”
 
With my hand hooked on his elbow, I guided him to the hors d’oeuvre table.

“Jess!”
 
Lydia
, on her way over.
 
“So this is the roommate.”

“Patrick, this is my boss, Lydia.”

He shook her hand.
 
“Pleased to meet you.”

She looked him up and down.
 
“Likewise. I hope Jess hasn’t been too hard to live with.”

“No trouble at all,” he said.

“Patrick is in IT.”

“Ah, logic and numbers, how dreadful—at least if you’re me.
Jess, don’t let me forget to introduce you to people later. And it was
very
nice to meet you.”
 
Lydia winked,
then
sauntered off to her next target.

“You talk about me at work?”

“Well, I did have to inform her I was moving.”

“Of course.”

It was obvious he was uncomfortable here.
 
“Hey, I know this isn’t your scene, so if you want to cut out early, I can get a ride home.”

Patrick shook his head.
 
“I told you I’d come and I keep my word. My preferences are my problem, not yours.”

“It’ll get better once we sit down to eat and they start making speeches about how we’re so awesome.”

“When is that?”

“7:30 is sit-down time.”

He glanced at his watch.
 
“Okay.”

Tables were labeled so each floor was seated in the same section, able to be with people we knew.
 
The top brass was in the front where the podium was.

We picked at canapés and cheese cubes until a voice came through the sound system asking us to find our seats.
 
I’d already found our tables before Patrick arrived, so I led him in that direction and picked a seat facing the front.
 
He pulled my chair out for me.

No one had done that since my grandfather was alive.
 
“Thank you.”
 
Got a warm smile in return.

He sat to my right.
 
Not surprisingly, Lydia grabbed the chair next to him.
 
As the table filled up, I introduced my coworkers.
 
Women who had spotted Patrick tonight kept glancing at him.
 
Made me feel proud and jealous.
 
I wanted to claim him and squash their ideas.
 
The boy was mine until he said he didn’t want to be.
 

The venue had put as many chairs at each table as could fit, so there wasn’t much elbow room, but at least we were all right-handed.
 
Anyone with a lefty relative knows what I’m talking about.

Dinner was three courses—salad, entrée, and dessert.
 
When the waiters brought the salads, they asked if we wanted the regular or vegetarian entrée.
 
You’d think that would’ve been arranged ahead of time, but we didn’t have assigned seating by name, so.
 
The speeches would start once everyone had been served the entrée.
 
The meal was fancy food, made to look very pretty, but I preferred Patrick’s simple home cooking.
 
Also, these portions were too small.

“What do you think?” I asked him.

“The chef took great care.”

“That doesn’t tell me how it tastes.”

The corner of his mouth turned up.
 
“It does not.”

“Well, I prefer what you do to this…chicken?”

“It’s quail.”

“Oh. That makes sense now.”

He grinned.
 
Laughing at me on the inside.

“What are you two whispering about?” Lydia asked.

“Just discussing the food.”

“Hm.”
 
She turned back to the speaker at the podium.

These people were boring.
 
When would dessert come?
 
You couldn’t screw up dessert.

Can you?

I shuddered.

“Cold?”
Patrick asked.

“No, I’m okay.”

He touched my arm.
 
“Your skin says otherwise.”
 
The dress was sleeveless.

“Only on the outside.
I’m fine, really.”
 
My skin had goosebumps for an entirely different reason.

“If you say so.
Standing offer to borrow my jacket.”

I touched his hand.
 
“Always the gentleman.
Thank you.”

He smiled every time our eyes met, and god, I didn’t want to read too much into it!

Dessert meant the speeches were over, so the room got louder with the chatter of a few hundred people.
 
The waiters brought cheesecake—definitely can’t go wrong there.
 
It was buttery and creamy and sweet, thankfully, though again my roommate didn’t look impressed.

“Do you bake?” I asked him.
 
“You’ve always made breakfast or dinner around me.”

“Only with Mom.
I don’t eat a lot of sweets, so…”

“Well, if you ever decide to make cookies, I’ll eat them all so you won’t be tempted.”

He laughed.
 
“You have a deal. Tonight has been alright, hasn’t it?”

I smiled at him.
 
“Indeed.”

They started playing music with dessert, and as couples were finishing their plates they were wandering over to the dance floor.
 
It was good people-watching.
 
Easy to see who liked each other, who didn’t…what couples were very comfortable with each other, and which ones were still new and hot.
 

“Would you like to dance?”

“Beg pardon?”

“You were watching the…did I misread that?” Patrick asked.

“No, I mean, sure. I thought you don’t dance.”

He stood and I offered him my hand.
 
“I don’t, but I can sway in time with music like anyone else.”
 
He kept my hand as we walked to the other guests.

I placed my hands on his shoulders; his were on my back.
 
Even with the three-inch heels I wore, he was still a little too tall for me.
 
We swayed to some classy instrumental track.
 
I couldn’t pick out old tunes without the lyrics.
 
The hard part was deciding where to look—his eyes, his chest, the room…but this still felt right.
 
Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Coming alone would’ve sucked.”

“Why? You know several people.”

“Because everyone brought somebody.
Would you want to be the only one alone?”

He shook his head.
 
“Story of my adolescence.”

“See?
Always good to have an ally.
Did you go to any school dances?”

A wince.
 
“Once.
Mom insisted, said I’d enjoy myself once I got there.”

“It’s not what happened.”

“No. I spent the whole night sitting with the other nerds waiting for our parents to pick us up.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventh grade.
The only other event I’ve been to was a mixer for seniors and professors, which obviously wasn’t a dance.”

“Would you make your past easier knowing it made you who you are today?”

“Deep question, Jess.”

“It’s a
good
question.”

A
sigh,
and he paused in thought.
 
“I want to say yes, but the smart answer is no. I think it could’ve been a little less painful and not changed everything.”

“So you like how life has turned out?”

He smiled, showing dimples.
 
“Yes. What about you? Are you where you expected to be?”

“No…but that’s a good thing.”

“Why, did you have low expectations?” he teased.

“Nothing like that.
You were a surprise.”

“Well, yes, if you want to talk about the last few weeks.”

“We really should thank your sister and your boss.”

He chuckled.
 
“My boss wouldn’t care.”

“Doesn’t matter.
Fate brought us a good thing.”

“Jess…”

“Hmm?”

“The music stopped.”
 
He let go.
 
People were starting to prepare to leave.

“Guess the party’s over. I’ll make a stop and then we can go, too.”

“I’ll wait by the exit.”

I nodded and he walked away.
 
I let out a breath.
 
The world around us had ceased to exist while we were talking and dancing.
 
It felt like we were really getting somewhere.

Probably my hormones again.

Searched out the restroom and found my boss freshening up her lipstick.
 
“When did you two finally hook up?”

“What? We’re not.”

“Could’ve fooled me, honey.
You looked pretty intimate on that dance floor.”

“We were only talking, Lydia.”

“More like eye-fucking.”

“Oh my god, not everything is about sex!”

She leaned her hip against the counter.
 
“That boy didn’t take his eyes off you all night,
and
I never had a chance to introduce you around because you two were thick as thieves. Tell me you felt no chemistry tonight and I’ll let it go.”

“Lydia, my personal life is really none of your business.”
 
I went into a stall, but I couldn’t pee in this dress.

“As I thought.”
 
She was way too smug about this.

“Why is it so important to you?”

“I like you, Jess. I want people I like to be happy. He makes you happy. All there is to it. Now find your lady-balls and make a move.”
 
Lydia left the restroom.