Page 12 of Dear Roomie (Classic City Romance #1)

Tanner’s eyes flash with cold rage, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came.

He effortlessly schools his expression, pasting on one of his bright, thousand-watt smiles that I’ve watched him practice a million times in the mirror.

His image is everything; it has to be when his dad is a small-town celebrity.

His father is a state commissioner with aspirations of becoming governor.

For as long as I’ve known him, he has worn the mask of a perfect, devoted son.

Even now, he looks the part, wearing clothes that would be more suited for a golf course than a date night in.

I’m one of the few people who ever gets to see the real Tanner Nicholson, not just Commissioner Nicholson’s son.

The real Tanner is the man who dotes on his little sisters and whose perfect day would be spent fishing on the river.

It’s the man who watched hours of videos to learn how to line dance so he could take me out dancing when I begged to go.

I’ve always loved the unmasked version of him the most, even if I see less and less of him now that the campaign is in full swing.

“Hi, babe.” I walk over and wrap my arms around him. He reciprocates, but his focus doesn’t leave Morgan. I guess we are doing the alpha-posturing bullshit today. Great .

My roommate doesn’t take the bait. He simply throws his backpack over his shoulders and extends his hand.

“Hey, you must be Tanner. Great to meet you. James has told me a lot about you. I’m Morgan.” It’s a bit of a stretch, considering how little I’ve actually spoken with him over the past few weeks. I cringe inside, hoping he won’t take it to mean we’ve gotten too friendly.

My boyfriend eyes him up for another second before grabbing Morgan’s hand in an iron grip. “Tanner Nicholson.” He says his name as if it means something. “I can’t say Ophelia has had much to say about you.”

To Morgan’s credit, if Tanner’s antics are getting to him, he doesn’t show it.

“That’s understandable. We don’t see each other that often. I spend a lot of time at the library, and I actually need to head that way now. If you are still around when I get back, we can have a beer or two and get to know each other.”

“Sure thing.” His tone says the opposite. He claps my roommate on the back as he helps guide him out the door. Morgan doesn’t spare me a second glance, fleeing the apartment like a bat out of hell, not that I blame him.

The door falls shut, and Tanner latches the deadbolt with an ominous click . With that sound, his smile falls and his fury returns with a vengeance.

“What the fuck was that?”

Grover picks his head up from where he had been sleeping to let out a low growl at Tanner’s tone.

“What was what? Why are you angry?” I feign ignorance, but my voice sounds wrong.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I walk in here and see you with your hands all over that chump. You know exactly why I’m mad.”

“That? That was nothing. He was about to leave, and I tried to stop him so you could meet him, that’s it.

If you had walked in six minutes earlier, you would have seen us sitting on opposite ends of the couch, in silence, waiting for you to get here.

” And if he had walked in here two minutes before that, he would have seen Morgan on the floor between my legs with my hand on his chest. Jesus fuck, that would have been bad .

“You asked to meet him. I hadn’t talked to him in weeks. I only did it for you.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His anger deflates, and he gives me a sheepish smile. “I overreacted. I just hate that he gets to be here with you all day, every day, and I’m stuck hours away.” He wraps me up in his arms, tucking me into the hollow of his neck. “Forgive me, love.”

I sigh, breathing in his familiar fresh, citrus scent, but it doesn’t fill me with the same comfort it normally does. I force myself to relax into his hold anyway. I’m probably still unsteady from the roller coaster of emotions I just rode. My equilibrium is off.

“Always.”

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He kisses the top of my head and releases me.

“I was going to cook your favorite lasagna, and I thought we could watch that new World War I movie that just came out.”

His face scrunches in distaste. “I just drove for nearly six hours. Sitting around is the last thing I want to do tonight.”

“Oh.” I fight to keep my expression neutral despite the sharp stab of disappointment. Tanner always wants to stay in when he visits. He says he can get more of me that way. “We can eat out and then go out downtown if you want.”

“That sounds great, O. Wanna hit Cali-n-Titos, then go to Magnolia’s?”

“Sure, sounds good. Let me take Grover out, and then we can go.”

I guess I’ll have lasagna later this week.

It’s not like it will go bad in the fridge if it sits unbaked for an extra day.

It’s also more fun to watch movies by myself.

He always gets handsy, and the movie gets forgotten for sex.

This will be so much more fun than what I had planned.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I grab the leash and rush outside, fighting back tears.

***

Tanner peppers my neck with wet, sloppy kisses while I try to unlock the front door.

His hot breath reeks of cheap liquor and the stale stench of cigarettes that he claims to only smoke when he’s drinking.

That one was new to me. I’ve never seen him smoke before, and I don’t think I like it.

Once again, my unsteady hands fail to get the key in the door.

I’m sure it would be easier if I wasn’t a little tipsy, but it would also be easier if he wasn’t glued to me.

His hands roam over my body, groping and squeezing as if he’s afraid of what will happen if he lets go.

“God, I missed you, O,” he slurs. He pulls me in closer to him right as I’m about to get the key in the lock. This is also new. He’s never been a binge drinker before. He’s always been more of a glass-of-bourbon-after-dinner type of guy, as it has a classier image.

“I missed you too, but give me a second to get us inside.” I’m unable to hide the annoyance that’s bubbling up, not that he would pick up on my cues at the moment.

Thankfully, he relents, letting me get the key in the lock.

My reprieve from his overzealous affection only lasts a second.

As soon as the door is open, he has me pressed up against the wall, and his lips crash into mine.

I fight back the urge to recoil at the taste of ash and nicotine.

His tongue and teeth bash against my own without any finesse.

Normally, his kisses would send tingles racing down my spine, but right now, I feel absolutely nothing.

I kiss him back, though, and he continues to try to devour me like he’s a starving man and my lips are the only thing that can sate his hunger.

The evidence that he isn’t experiencing the same hesitancy presses up against me, making my stomach clench.

This is exactly where I saw tonight going, but for some reason, everything about his touch feels wrong.

He lifts my shirt to pull it over my head, and I rip my mouth from his.

Without missing a beat, his lips descend onto my neck.

“Tanner…wait…roommate…bedroom,” I manage to gasp out between heaving breaths.

As soon as I utter the words, I’m lifted into the air.

His hands squeeze my ass as he carries me to my room, but his lips never leave my skin.

That’s all it takes to break past whatever mental block was holding back my arousal.

My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my hands grip his hair, and I seek out his lips with the same passion he has been giving me.

He slams me back against the bedroom door, and my feet sink to the floor as his newly freed hands roam my body, trailing up my torso and to my chest. His fingers expertly tweak my nipple in the exact way he knows drives me crazy.

I bite my lip to hold back the moan that’s fighting to escape.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” Tanner growls in my ear, “I want that fuckhead roommate of yours to know exactly who you belong to.”

A wave of unease washes through me at his words, but I push the feeling down and focus on the feeling of his hands on my skin.

He moves to pull off my shirt again but freezes. A sheen of sweat breaks out on his now-pale forehead. He takes a slow step back, then turns and makes a mad dash for the bathroom. Before I can fully process what happened, the sound of retching echoes off the porcelain toilet.

“Babe, are you okay?” I straighten out my clothes and go to check on him.

“No,” he moans before letting out another stream of vomit.

He looks so pitiful on the floor, curled up around the base of the toilet.

I move to sit next to him and brush back his hair while his body forces him to purge the poison.

It doesn’t pass quickly; we stay like that until my limbs go numb and he starts to drift to sleep.

Pins and needles shoot through my legs as I uncurl from my awkward position. It takes a lot of prodding and coaxing, but I’m able to get Tanner off the floor and into the bed. His head hits the pillow, and I place a soft kiss on his temple before standing up to get myself ready for bed.

“I really love you, O,” he mumbles as I leave. He is unconscious again before I can even respond.

Red splotches paint my skin as I scrub myself to the point of pain under the shower’s scalding spray.

As if that could somehow pluck out this awful new feeling that has taken root within me.

It started small, but as the day progressed, it grew until it bloomed into this ugly tangle of disappointment and resentment toward the man I love.

Every logical thought says I should go to join him in bed, but I can’t bring myself to crawl under the covers.

Seeing him lying there brings those feelings swelling to the surface with a vengeance.

My fingers itch to purge my emotions onto a canvas, to expel them the only way I know how, but Tanner’s oppressive presence looms in the room, suffocating me.

Through the muddled haze of emotions raging through my head, one thought comes through crystal fucking clear.

I need to get out of this room.

I don’t look back as I bolt for the hall.