Page 13 of Dear Roomie (Classic City Romance #1)

Morgan

T he sound of a door opening down the hall interrupts the low murmuring coming from the TV.

I jump at the unexpected noise and turn my head right as James bolts out of the darkness.

Skimpy shorts barely cover her ass, and her hard nipples peek through a thin camisole, but that all fades away when I spot her black-rimmed, tear-stained eyes through the damp hair framing her face.

She looks wrecked.

I don’t think she’s noticed me yet; her frantic eyes are locked on the front door while her chest heaves. I’m on my feet before I have a plan. All I know is I have to fix it.

“Hey, are you all right?” Slowing my steps, I approach with an outstretched arm.

I want to touch her and offer her comfort in my arms, but if I do that, she’ll flee.

Heck, she’s already eyeing my hand like it might bite her if she lowers her guard.

I run it through my hair and let it drop to my side, halting in place as I do.

“What are you doing out here?” She wipes the moisture from her eyes, but her voice is still steady, biting even.

“Watching TV,” I tell her. “I like to come sit out here when I can’t sleep.”

“Oh.” Her eyes lock on the screen, which strobes in the darkness behind me.

She moves toward it with ghostlike grace.

It’s a stark contrast to how she fled down the hall like a bat out of hell.

She observes the screen for a moment with a furrowed brow and then turns back to me with narrowed eyes.

It’s the first bit of life I’ve seen on her face since she ran out here.

“What the fuck is this Lord of the Rings shit?” The disdain in her words is emphasized by the clang of clashing swords.

This is the she-devil I’ve come to expect.

After this morning, her venom doesn’t hold the same sting.

She’s deflecting, trying to make me mad so I forget something was bothering her in the first place.

It’s exactly what she did that day in the bathroom and at Cutter’s, but I won’t let her do it again.

“It’s called Merlin ,” I tell her and hit pause.

I finished my watch-through of The Adventures of Sir Lancelot last week and moved on to my second favorite show.

“It’s a version of the King Arthur legends.

This episode is almost over. We can put something else on after if you are planning on staying out here. ”

“Are you inviting me to hang out and watch nerd shows with you?”

“Or other shows. I mean, it’s your apartment and your TV. Inviting you doesn’t seem necessary. I’ll be out here either way, but I’d like it if you’d stay. ”

“Why on earth would you like that?” she asks, her voice ringing with genuine curiosity.

Why do I want that?

Images of her breakdown this afternoon flash through my head, and that overwhelming need to take care of her floods through me again.

That was a whole new James, a vulnerable one with no walls, and seeing that roused something in me.

I want to see more of that. More pressing, I want to see what an unguarded James is like when she’s happy. I bet she’s breathtaking.

“I’d like the chance to get to know you.

Maybe patch things up enough between us that we can live together peacefully.

I don’t think we will ever become friends or anything, but I’d like to get to a place where I can pass you in the hallway without worrying that you are going to accuse me of something crazy or criticize my every action. ”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. You told me to stay out of your way. I took it literally.”

“That’s the very definition of avoiding me,” she says with an exasperated huff.

“Would you rather have had it the other way? I didn’t get the impression you liked me very much.” I give her a pointed look, watching her fidget as she mulls over the question.

“Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck it, I don’t know. I don’t not like you. It’s just that Tanner isn’t happy with this whole situation, and it’s easier if I keep away.” She flops down on the far side of the couch and throws one arm over her face while looking up at the ceiling.

“Is that why you came out here so upset? Did you fight? I can talk to him if you want me to.” I don’t know what I would say to him.

But the last thing I want is for James to be hurting.

If my being here is putting strain on their relationship, I’ll need to sit down with Tanner and make sure he knows I’m not a threat to them.

“No. At least not this time. ”

“But he upset you?” My hands clench by my side. I might need to set him straight regardless.

James pauses for a second, before letting out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, I guess he upset me. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Just put your nerd show back on. Please.”

As much as I want to push her further, I bite my tongue. She will tell me if she wants me to know. If I push her too hard, she will be gone faster than I can blink. I resume the show and settle back on the couch, keeping my attention on James out of the corner of my eye.

At first, she watches the screen with predetermined contempt, but it doesn’t take long for her to get sucked into the magic of it all. Her face relaxes as she leans forward, watching the drama unfold with wide eyes. A small smile curls the corner of her lips, and the sight flips my stomach.

I can’t bring myself to turn my attention back to the episode.

My eyes do a quick scan over her, looking for any signs that her fight with Tanner involved more than harsh words.

When I don’t find any, I relax back into my seat.

I don’t think James would put up with that type of abuse, but I had to be sure.

As the episode plays on, James becomes more at ease.

The tension she was carrying melts off her shoulders.

Right as the credits roll and the next episode queues on the screen, my stomach decides to interrupt with a loud growl.

That sound breaks the spell she was under, and James turns her focus to me.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. Her voice is soft and riddled with uncertainty. We have reached uncharted territory.

“Kind of,” I tell her as my fingers rake through my hair. “Dining halls were closed when I left Ramsey. I’ll be fine until breakfast, though.”

“Why didn’t you get something once you got home?”

“I don’t keep any food here.” My eyes drop to the floor with the mumbled confession. I can’t bear to see the judgment in her eyes. My stipend only goes so far, and it seems wasteful to spend it on extra food when the dining plan has already been covered by my loans .

“Do you like lasagna?”

I lift my gaze back to her in confusion. Lasagna ? I’m not sure how we got from my financial situation to what food I like.

“I can put some in the oven if you want it,” she continues as if that answers all my questions.

“Sure…I mean, yes, I like lasagna. Thank you…I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble, that is.” I stumble a bit over my words and wince at how caught off guard I sound.

She beams at me, and it lights up her whole face.

I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since I saw her dancing at Cutter’s, and it’s definitely the first time she’s ever smiled at me like this.

If I were Tanner, I would be doing everything in my power to keep that smile on her face permanently.

Even with her raccoon eyes and unkempt hair, my she-devil looks like an angel.

“It’s not a problem at all,” she says, her southern drawl thickening. She gets up and makes her way over to the fridge, and I don’t resist the urge to follow her. I’m like a junkie: I’ve gotten my first hit of her radiant smile, and I’m already jonesing for another.

She opens the door and pulls out a full tray of homemade lasagna, ready to be baked.

I lean against the counter and watch her move around the kitchen with practiced ease.

For the first time since I moved in, I feel like I’m welcome in this apartment.

It doesn’t take her long to wrap the pan in foil and put it in the oven, not even bothering to wait for it to preheat.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but why did you have a tray in there ready to go?” My tone is teasing, but her smile falters and then fades completely.

That was clearly the wrong thing to say.

James folds her arms in front of her and curls in on herself, turning back into the sad ghost of herself that came out of her bedroom less than an hour ago.

“Hey, please tell me what’s going on.” I move closer, and this time, I don’t resist the urge to reach out and place a hand on her bare shoulder. She stills for a second and then leans into my touch. Warmth radiates from where my skin meets hers.

“I made the lasagna for Tanner,” she admits, melancholy coating each word.

“If you made it for him, then why did you give it to me? You didn’t need to do that. I wou—”

“No, Morgan,” she interrupts, “I made it for him to have for dinner tonight, but he didn’t want it.

” She sucks in a deep breath, and her eyes grow glassy with unshed tears.

“I planned a night in for us, something simple. I made his favorite food, and I figured we could watch a movie and spend some quality time together. It’s been months since we’ve had the time to just do nothing together.

He started a new job that’s been eating all his time, and I did summer classes, so I couldn’t go to him much. ”

The floodgate opens for both her words and her tears. She wipes away the trailing liquid with the base of her palm, smearing the remnants of her makeup even further.

“I know I’m being stupid,” she says with a bitter laugh.

“He didn’t do anything wrong by saying he would rather do something else.

We still had fun, or we did until he got so drunk that he ended up spending the night with his head in the toilet.

I just wish we could have had more time together.

He leaves in the morning, and I feel like I barely saw him. ”

“You aren’t being stupid.” But I am as I pull her into my arms. She melts into my embrace, and I hold her closer, whispering reassuring words in her ear and running my hand in soothing patterns along her back as my shirt grows damp with her tears.

After a few minutes, her crying quiets and she pulls back.

I let her go despite my every instinct to keep her close, and I immediately miss her warmth and sweet, woody scent.

She wipes the remaining tears from her face and adjusts her posture, standing straight to be the woman who tore me down the day I moved in.

Her lips open and close again like she’s trying to find the right words to say. She will probably apologize for being upset or something equally as unnecessary .

“What movie,” I ask her before she can utter a word.

“What?”

“What movie did you want to watch?”

“It’s stupid.” Her cheeks turn pink as she drops her gaze to the ground.

“Stop saying that,” I growl at her, and her eyes widen as they snap back to mine. “Your interests aren’t stupid. Your feelings aren’t stupid. Now tell me what movie you want to watch.”

“It was the one that came out a few months ago about World War I. I really like war movies.”

“Go put it on.”

“But what about your show? It was actually kind of cool for being nerd shit.”

“If you liked it, we can plan to watch it together another time. Right now, you are going to walk into the living room and put on that movie.” My commanding tone leaves no room for argument.

“Yes sir,” she says and freezes. A deep blush spreads across her cheeks as her eyes grow comically wide, and she scurries off to the living room.

Those two words set my heart into overdrive as it thumps wildly in my chest, and my whole body tightens with awareness.

I stall for several seconds, willing my body to calm down, and then join her on the couch, choosing the seat furthest away from her.

I’ve spent too much time in her space today, and it’s messing with my head.

She gets the movie playing, and like before, she’s mesmerized by the on-screen action within minutes.

I force myself to watch the movie and not her reactions to it.

Comfortable silence hangs between us. It’s so different from the oppressive pressure I felt when we were in the same position before Tanner arrived.

The oven’s timer beeps, and James pauses the TV while she prepares our bowls.

I offer her a soft “thank you” as she places the dish on the coffee table in front of me, which earns me another beautiful smile.

I dig in, savoring each morsel, but she barely gets three bites in before she drifts to sleep and lets out a soft snore .

I chuckle and pause the movie so she doesn’t miss anything.

The couch shifts as I get up, and I wince, not wanting to disturb her, before grabbing the bowl from her hand.

There isn’t a huge mess, but I clean up in the kitchen and put the leftovers away.

Once that’s done, I go back to check on James; she’s dead to the world, probably exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions she went through today.

Not that I can blame her.

Snagging a blanket off the back of the couch, I drape it over her. A stray piece of hair lays across her face, and I tuck it back behind her ear, letting my fingers trail along her face for this one quick moment.

With a weary sigh, I turn and make my way to my bedroom. This morning, I thought I knew what to expect from my roommate, but now I’m not so sure she’s as bad as she made herself out to be.