Page 1 of Their Little House Boston (Five Little Roommates #3)

Boston

The headlamps of the bus were heading my way, and I ran as fast as I could, barely getting to the stop on time.

It was the last bus of the night for this route and, had I missed it, I’d have been screwed.

The cost of a taxi the distance I was going would be astronomical, if I could even find someone willing to travel that far this time of the night.

I’d been stuck at work, finishing a project that wasn’t even mine.

My coworker gave their two week notice and was told that they were no longer needed, effective immediately.

If they weren’t needed, I wouldn’t have been working past midnight to get their shit done.

No one would call me the perfect employee, but when the boss begged for someone to take it over, I was the first one with my hand up after they changed the offer from comp time to overtime.

I didn’t need another day off. I needed cash. I was saving up to get an apartment of my own, or maybe a small house. Something that didn’t require a forty-five-minute bus ride to work or sharing a space with someone who was fine but not a person I’d choose to spend time with.

I plopped into my seat and braced myself for the long journey home.

The smell of the bus was every bit as ripe as you’d expect at this time of night—stale beer from some drunks who’d been wise enough not to drive, the faint smell of puke, and, of course, a whole lot of body odor.

But the bus was a cheap way home, and it wasn’t like I’d been expecting elegance.

The ride felt extra long and I nearly missed my stop, thanks to my bright idea to close my eyes, “just for a minute.” If the driver hadn’t slammed on his breaks, I’d have been forced off at the last stop on this route with no bus back.

“Night.” I gave the bus driver a nod on my way off and popped into the twenty-four-hour convenience store across the street from the place I’d been calling home to get some very overdue dinner.

All of the hot food was either long gone, or, in the case of the pizza slices, far past their time to be tossed out.

I ended up grabbing a questionable turkey sandwich out of the cooler and a bottle of lemonade before jogging across the street and up the four flights of stairs to my apartment.

I’d only been there for a month, and the place wasn’t horrible. I’d have loved an elevator, especially when moving in, but the landlord kept the hallways clean and lit, and the neighbors were quiet. There were far worse places I could be.

My roommate Ray wasn’t a friend, or even an acquaintance until we moved in. That had been a first for me. I preferred to either live alone or with someone I knew and liked. But I was no longer in my college town and knew exactly zero people here when I took my job.

It was a jump scare seeing the rent prices here.

If it was only the rent I had to think about, I’d probably have sucked it up and snagged a place of my own and taken on some side hustles to make ends meet.

Moving in cost so much more than that. Most places I inquired about wanted first, last, and a deposit.

I was looking at big bucks from the get-go, and one thing I didn’t have was big bucks.

Ray’s ad in the local marketplace had seemed too good to be true.

He had a private room that didn’t require first or last month’s rent.

He didn’t even ask for a deposit or lease.

The listing raised every red flag there could possibly be.

That was probably why it was still available.

When I finally sucked it up and inquired, my one-month relocation benefit at the extended-stay hotel about to expire.

I didn’t have high hopes, or any hopes really.

I figured best-case scenario was in a not-so-great part of town.

Worst case? It had rats and roaches, and I’d need to walk through an area I should never be in after dark, and there was mold.

Thankfully it was none of those things. Ryan was nice enough, the room wasn’t too bad, and the price was great with no hidden anything.

He’d been through a really bad breakup, and his girlfriend moved out.

From the sound of it, I’d have done the same exact thing she had.

He’d slept with his boss, of all people.

But that wasn’t for me to judge, especially not when I was the one fully taking advantage of the situation like a little vulture.

I’d been very up front with him from the time we met, letting him know I liked both men and women.

I posed it as a question pertaining to overnight guests, a litmus test I’d read was solid in an article about roommate hunting while queer.

In theory, it was known to keep me out of what could quickly become a pretty ugly situation.

If he said I could only bring home women, they were biphobic, and I didn’t need that in my life.

Thankfully Ray didn’t pull that. He said as long as we kept it in my room, he didn’t care who I brought home or how many, but that the living room was off-limits to all guests without prior approval.

It wasn’t ideal, but at least he didn’t send me packing, which was better than moving in and finding out later they were assholes.

I went straight into my room. Normally I wouldn’t eat in there, but I knew that if I made too much noise in the kitchen by opening cabinets or even shutting the garbage can a little too loudly, I’d disturb my roommate.

And the last thing I wanted to do was piss him off.

Not signing a lease went both ways. It allowed me to move out without notice, but it also allowed him to kick my ass to the curb in the same manor.

Living here had been great as a stopgap. I was about halfway to my savings goal for an apartment. But if I could stay here longer without the commute killing me, I might even have enough for a down payment on a small house.

I ate my sandwich quickly and climbed into bed beside my stuffed koala.

I barely had the light off when I realized my roommate wasn’t alone.

Their bed was creaking, and the moan was definitely female.

I grabbed my earplugs, popped them in, put on some lo-fi, and went to sleep thinking maybe he’d moved on from his ex.

It wasn’t until the morning, when I walked into the kitchen and put my pot of coffee on, that I saw who it was.

He had not come close to moving on. This wasn’t some random one-night stand or a girl he just started dating.

Nope. It was his ex. I recognized her from the picture he showed me when he sobbed about what a dumbass he was.

“I’m Boston.” I somehow made the moment more awkward with those two words. Ugg.

“My boyfriend said you were staying here for a little while.”

Boyfriend. That was not the word I wanted to hear. Boyfriend meant they were back together. Boyfriend meant my bedroom, the one that had once been her office, might no longer be mine.

“Yeah.” What else was there to say?

“Thanks for helping out with the bills while I threw my fit of temper because he made a mistake.”

Mistake. She called him putting his dick in his boss a mistake. This situation was going from bad to worse. He’d somehow managed to gaslight her into thinking this was her fault.

From the sounds of it, my days here were limited…very limited.

I pressed the button on the coffee maker. “Excuse me, I need to catch a shower before work. Nice to meet you.”

The next day, my roommate told me she was moving back in in two weeks and would need her office for work. And that was fair enough, but also, that didn’t give me a lot of time.

“I’ll start looking,” was the best I could offer. I not only needed to find a place without the cash most complexes needed, but had to find one with immediate availability.

“I know this sucks, but I got you,” he said and handed me a little pull-tab flyer with a phone number on it. “It’s a room for rent in an older house. You’d be one of multiple renters, but they’re all like you. I’m sure you’ll get along.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah, like you with your preferences.”

Oh. He meant they were queer. That was one hurdle skipped. And at least he was trying?

“Well, thanks. I’ll give them a call.”

I didn’t really have a choice, and besides, it had to be better than being homeless. Right?