The Temporary Roomie by Sarah Adams

SUNDAY

I shut the fridge. “We’re out of creamer.”

Jessie is standing beside me, holding a cup of black coffee, looking like I just told her she has to pee in that mug and drink it.

“No,” she whispers dramatically.

“Not a fan of black coffee, I take it?” I already know she won’t drink it without cream, but I ask anyway so she won’t know I’ve been tracking her every movement since she moved in.

“Drew”—I’m still not totally used to hearing my name used so casually on her lips—“creamer is one of the few magnificent little wonders in this world. I refuse to go without it, and no, I’m not being dramatic.” When she smiles like that, I don’t stand a chance. I will bend to her every desire every time.

“Alright then.” I scoop up my keys.

She sets down her mug and hurries after me. “Wait, where you going?”

“To the store to get you creamer.”

She’s bobbing behind me, trying to grab the keys. “No! I didn’t mean you had to go. I’ll go. It’s for me anyway.”

I hold the keys up high so she can’t take them. They jingle playfully. “I need a few other things too.”

“Then make a list, and I’ll get them while I’m there. I better go ahead and buy Grandaddy more Oreos anyway.”

I grin down at her attempts to hop in the air for the keys and her inability to do so because of how uncomfortable it is with her swollen belly. I’m so mean, hanging them like a bone on a string over her head. “Nope, I’m going.”

Determination settles in her stubborn green eyes. “Fine. Then we’re both going.”

“Great.”

“Wonderful.” Her chin angles up. “I’ll drive separate.”

“You’ll ride with me.”

Her eyes narrow and she waits three beats before responding. “Only to help preserve the planet.”

“Such a hero.”

MONDAY

There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and because it’s only us here, I know who it is. My stomach flips as I turn the handle and find Drew with a hesitant smile. He leans his shoulder against the frame, does a slow perusal of me in my shorts and tank top, and then meets my eyes.

“I accidentally made too much dinner. Come eat with me.”

“Is it poisoned?”

“No, my vial was empty.”

I twist my lips to the side, trying to look like I’m contemplating it and didn’t make up my mind the second he asked. Because truth is, I’m spending all my free time with Drew these days. He knows it. I know it. But neither of us will admit it out loud, because it’s too scary.

TUESDAY

Everything took too long today. So many highlights, so many women wanting to re-invent their look. At five o’clock, I wanted to throw my bowl of lightening cream against the wall and yell, “Yeah, yeah, you look fine! Go home and love yourself as you are!” But I stood there like a good little hairstylist and finished taking a woman’s hair from a level four brunette to an ambitious level seven warm blonde until eight o’clock. Because in the hair world, you don’t get to clock out at five. You stay until the job is done.

I floor it all the way home. Home. Drew’s home, I mean. His Jeep is in the driveway, and I feel an eagerness to get inside.

I open the door too exuberantly, and it slams back against the wall. He’s sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and nearly throws it over his head. He’s wearing his trademark at-home look: Hoodie. Sweatpants. Bare feet.

Except thanks to me, he also has a swollen black eye.

He’s adorable, and I have to admit it to myself or I’ll burst.

“Is a killer chasing you or something?” he asks, wide eyes looking to where I flung the door open.

Oh, right.He can’t know I rushed in here like a maniac so I could see him. I look over my shoulder. “Yeah. Gosh, you should have seen him. Big. Burly. Scary knife.” I shiver and shut the door, smiling when my back is to him.

“In that case, lock it.” He grins, and my heart flutters.

My legs are crying out for me to go to the couch and sit down beside Drew, but I’m still not sure if I’d be welcome there or not, if I should go there or not. I think it would be a bad idea.

There, woman, you’ve seen him like you wanted, now go to your room and behave.

Drew leans forward and rests his elbow on his knees, bowl of ice cream in hand, and takes a casual, unhurried bite, staring at me the whole time. “Are you going to stay over there all night?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay.” He takes another bite with the spoon upside down in his mouth and slowly pulls it back out. So yeah, I can’t stand here watching him eat ice cream all night like a freak. I can’t, right? No. I can’t.

He licks his lips and sets the bowl down, stands, and then nods his head at the couch. “Sit.”

Drew disappears into the kitchen, and I shuffle over with weak legs. I sit down. Cross my legs. That feels weird, so I uncross them. I lean back and then feel like Santa with my jolly round belly, so I sit back up. How did I sit before Drew came along?! SOMEONE TELL ME HOW TO SIT!

“Here.” He’s in front of me now, holding out a bowl of ice cream. Cookies n’ cream, mmm. I laugh, though, when I see a single floret of broccoli perched on the side of a scoop. His grin is tilted and making my world spin. “Balance, you know?”

“Balance,” I say with a solemn expression.

And that’s that. He sits beside me on the couch, and we eat our ice cream while watching the most boring documentary in the world. It’s so good.

WEDNESDAY

Drew doesn’t come home after work, so I can only assume he’s at the hospital for a delivery. Or he’s on a date. I don’t know, and it kills me all night. I try to watch a romance movie, but I can’t focus. In my head, every scene is Drew with another woman, Drew kissing a different woman. It’s absolute torture. I could have just texted him and asked what he’s up to, but…that feels like too much. Too close. Too friend-like, or worse, relationship-like.

So instead I wait up—I mean watch TV!—on the couch for no reason other than I have insomnia like always. I don’t know at what time I fall asleep, but somewhere in the middle of the night, I wake up when I feel something warm drape over me.

I squint my eyes open and see Drew standing beside the couch, turning off the TV with the remote. The room goes black and I can’t see him anymore, but I can still feel and smell him near me. In my sleepy state, I nearly ask him to lie down with me.

“Were you on a date?” I don’t mean to ask this, but it’s better than throwing a snuggle invitation at him.

He leans closer. “You should go get in bed. You look cold.”

“I’m okay right here.”

He grunts, and then I feel a second blanket wrapping around me. He tucks me in like a burrito and quietly says, “I was at the hospital. Get some sleep.”

I do, and I dream of Drew the whole night.

THURSDAY

Drew: Was this really necessary?

Drew:*large framed photo of cat wearing an adorable beanie mounted on the wall*

Me: It was absolutely necessary.

Drew:I’m failing to see how.

Me:It boosts morale. You don’t want to live in a house low on morale, do you?

Drew:Ever since you moved in, my house seems to be bursting with it.

Me: Do you actually want me to take it down?

Drew:…No.

FRIDAY

Drew:Where is it???

Me:I don’t know to what you are referring.

Drew: The mug. My mug. What did you do with it?

Me: Andrew, we have so many mugs. How could I possibly know which mug you’re talking about?

Drew: You know…white…looks like a snowman…has a carrot nose? Was on a shelf above my bedroom door and now it’s gone?

Me: Ohhhhhhhhhh.

Me: You mean this one?

Me: *picture of me drinking out of the mug at the salon with a devious smirk*

Drew: Put it back…or else…

Drew: *picture of Drew holding a Sharpie with the cap off up to beanie-cat picture*

Me:You wouldn’t!!

Drew:You have until midnight to return my mug.

Drew: P.S. I called in takeout from the burger place you like with the nasty fries. Can you stop on the way home and grab it?

Me: Only if we can rent that new movie.

Drew: I already got it.