Not Pretending Anymore by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 2
Molly
Interview number fifteen took the cake.
The girl was a professional yodeler and announced that she often had to practice for competitions. She wanted to know whether the room was echoey.
Why couldn’t I find anyone quiet? There was no way I wanted to have to listen to that. So as nice as she was, I let her out of the apartment knowing I’d never see her again.
After we said goodbye, I noticed something on the ground outside my door. It was a covered Tupperware container with an envelope taped to the top.
I took it inside and ripped open the envelope.
The note read:
I noticed the room is still listed for rent. Sorry you’re not having better luck. In the meantime, enjoy these cupcakes I made. Maybe they’ll help relieve some of your stress. If there’s anything else I can do—you know, like take the room off your hands—you have my number.
Declan
(Full disclosure, though: I still have a penis.)
Covering my laugh, I opened the green lid to reveal eight large cupcakes with white frosting. A different word was written on each one. I soon figured out they were meant to create a sentence:
Do. It! Eat. One. And. Thank. Me. Later.
Frustrated, I grabbed the “one” cupcake and took a huge bite off the top. I always ate the tops off cupcakes and left the bottoms. Without the frosting, the cake was dead to me.
I had to admit, it was delicious. The frosting was buttery, and not too sweet. It was creamy, not hardened with sugar.
Did this guy really think he could win my heart—or entry into my apartment—with cupcakes, though?
I laughed to myself and grabbed another one, licking the frosting first before devouring the entire top. They were really delicious. I would’ve assumed he’d bought them from a bakery were it not for the Tupperware container, and also the fact that the shapes were somewhat imperfect.
I’d seriously lost my mind if was I considering giving this guy a chance because his cupcakes tasted so damn good.
Within ten minutes, I’d eaten the tops off all of the cupcakes except two.
I looked down at the words on top of the ones that were left.
Do. It!
Do it!
Was it a sign that I should give him a chance?
And was I desperate enough to look for wisdom from baked goods?
The answer was yes. Yes, I was.
I let out a long breath, conceding what I knew in my gut: the search was over. Declan Tate was going to win by default. I needed the money. He was the least crazy person to walk in my door. And the truth was, I had peni-lized him—punished him for having a penis. I’d thought about that a lot over the past couple of days, and oddly, I’d thought about him. His charisma, how he’d made me laugh—there were worse traits in a roommate.
But before I considered this for real, he and I needed to have a discussion, set some ground rules.
I picked up the phone and dialed the number I had for him.
He apparently knew it was me.
“Hey, Mollz! How’s it go—”
“Okay. You can have it,” I blurted.
“Seriously?”
“Those cupcakes were so damn good. You won me over, which was obviously your intent.”
“Cupcakes plural? Did you have more than one?”
“No comment.”
He laughed and spoke to himself, “Take note, Declan. The way to the new roomie’s heart is through her stomach.”
Roomie.
I sighed.
What am I doing?
He must have sensed my frustration. “Don’t be so down about it, Mollz. It’ll be fun, and like I said, you’re barely even gonna have to see me. Our schedules work out perfectly for avoidance.”
“When do you expect to move in?”
“You tell me. I can leave my buddy’s place this afternoon and be there by five. He’s eager to have his privacy back anyway—something about not wanting me in the room when he fucks his girlfriend. Can you believe that?” He laughed. “Anyway, do you have to work tonight?”
Tonight?That seemed so soon, but honestly, I might as well just get it over with.
“Actually, no. Tonight is my night off. I’m not working the next couple of days.”
“Perfect then. I’ll pack up my stuff and come on by.”
I grabbed the “Do” cupcake and took a bite. “Great,” I said with my mouth full.
***
A few hours later, there was a knock at the door.
When I opened, I was greeted by Declan’s blinding set of gleaming teeth.
“Howdy, roomie.”
I moved out of the way, allowing him to enter. “Hey.”
A whiff of his scent floated by me. Amazing. I couldn’t say I minded the idea of my apartment becoming saturated with whatever cologne he wore. The vibe in my place was about to be bombarded with masculine energy.
The bag on his arm dropped to the floor with a thud. He looked around before wheeling his suitcase to a corner of the room. Then he walked back toward me and caught me off guard when he reached for my face.
I flinched as he swiped his finger along the corner of my mouth. It grazed my bottom lip, giving me goose bumps.
“You had some frosting there.”
I touched the same spot. “Oh.”
A few minutes before he arrived, I’d demolished the “It!” cupcake top—the last one. All that was left now were eight stumps of naked cake.
He examined my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said, feeling flushed.
I wasn’t sure if all the sugar was going to my head or what, but I was more on edge than I thought I’d be.
“Stop freaking out about me being here.” He chuckled. “I take it you’ve never lived with a guy before?”
“You’d be correct. My parents divorced when I was sixteen. So, after my father left, it was just my mother, me, and my sister, Lauren.”
“Well, I promise, I don’t bite.”
I swallowed, unnerved by the fact that he was so attractive. Almost too attractive. I would never want to be with a guy like that. Deep down, he was probably full of himself, even if he didn’t show it. There was no way he didn’t know he was good-looking.
“We have to set some ground rules, okay?”
He straightened his posture and nodded once in an exaggerated manner. “Shoot.”
“This should go without saying, but what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours. I don’t share my personal items, like toiletries or food.”
“Got it. But it should work both ways. Like…if I happen to cook up something delicious and you partake, you’ll let me have something in return.”
My brows furrowed. “In return? What exactly are you insinuating?”
His eyes widened. “Not what your dirty little mind is venturing to right now. We already established that I’m into someone else, remember? I just meant, you know, like, if you eat my food, you owe me something of equivalent value. Don’t dish it if you can’t take it kind of thing.”
I squinted. “What makes you think I’m going to eat your food?”
“You might not. But you seemed to like the cupcakes, so…”
He had a point. But the cupcakes were a gift. I supposed I could agree to his stipulation and just vow that I wouldn’t ever touch his food. Pfft! I didn’t need his food.
“Okay.” I shrugged. “Fine. It works both ways.”
He leaned against the small island in the center of my kitchen. “What other rules you got for me?”
“You can do whatever you want when I’m not here, but no bringing people into the apartment when I’m sleeping. Our schedules should make that pretty easy since you have three nights a week when I won’t be here.”
“Fine. Done. Hit me with the rest.”
“I like everything nice and organized. So, if you see something arranged a certain way, don’t change it.”
“You mean like the pastel M&Ms you have in those jars on the counter? Don’t mix the pink with the mint-colored ones, that kind of shit?”
“I only like certain-colored M&Ms, so I order them online. But yes…don’t mess with anything I might have arranged a certain way.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “You’re a trip, you know that?”
“Everyone has their quirks. Mine include liking color-coordinated candy and a neat and organized apartment. So sue me. I like what I like.”
“What kind of a man does a woman who likes all pink M&Ms in one jar go for? A dude who wears pink Lacoste shirts and loafers?”
“No. I like a man who’s got a good head on his shoulders and who’s—”
“Dull and pretentious as fuck?”
“No,” I answered defensively.
“I’m kidding, Molly. Just messing with you.”
Letting out a long breath, I said, “I know.”
“You’re single?” he asked.
“Yes. But…hopefully not for long.”
“Oh yeah? What’s going on there? Who’s the lucky guy?”
Ugh. Why did I even say that? Now I have to explain it.
Might as well admit to my crush on Dr. Daniels. That way Declan would know I was completely unaffected by his charms.
“There’s this doctor I work with. I’ve had a crush on him for some time, and he just became single. I’m actually meeting him and a bunch of other people for happy hour tomorrow night. So, I’m hopeful something will develop there.”
He smiled. “Good for you. Going for it.”
Feeling embarrassed, I cleared my throat. “What about you? What’s the deal with this girl you said you’re into?”
“Well, she’s a co-worker, too, actually. We work for the same advertising firm. We’re both from California, where the company is based, but we came to Chicago to work on a campaign for a major client out here. That’s why I’m only in town for six months. She and I work on the account together.”
“Does she know you like her?”
“That’s the thing. She’s sort of dating this douchebag back home. He did not want her to come to Chicago. Things are always up and down with them. So, I’m hoping one of these days they go all the way down, and I can move in for the kill. I wouldn’t be a dick and try to make a move when she technically has a boyfriend. So, at the moment, I’m just waiting in the wings.”
“Okay, but does she know you like her?”
“I don’t know. I bet she suspects, though. We’re friends…for now. But I want more. Not only because she’s gorgeous, but she’s intelligent and sweet, too. The whole package. And I do think we’re compatible.”
The hint of jealousy I felt was unnerving. I think it was more just wishing someone felt that way about me. It certainly wasn’t because of an attraction to Declan. He was good-looking and all, but not my type.
“What’s her name?”
“Julia.”
“Pretty name.”
“What about Hot Doctor?”
Smiling shyly, I answered, “Will.”
“What kind of doctor?”
“He’s an OB-GYN.”
“Oh, that’s right. You said you work in a maternity ward. Makes sense. At least the whiny babies you deal with are cute—unlike my clients.” He pretended to reach for my M&M jar, then backed his hand away with an impish smile. “Any other rules, Molly?”
“Well, obvious stuff, like no walking around naked.”
He wriggled his brows. “Worried you might get turned on?”
“No.” I looked down at my feet. “It’s just not appropriate.”
“Same goes for you, then. But that’s just to be fair.” He lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I’m not gonna complain if you do.”
I rolled my eyes. “I thought you only had eyes for one woman?”
“I’m smitten, not dead, Mollz.” He grinned. “If it happens, I’m probably gonna sneak a look. But I won’t say anything or be creepy.”
My cheeks felt hot as I changed the subject. “Is your sister really a nun?”
He chuckled. “Yes.”
“That’s so…unique.”
“Why? Because her brother is the devilish antithesis of holy?” He flashed a mischievous grin.
“Well, that, plus you don’t hear about too many people becoming nuns nowadays.”
“Catherine was always different from the rest of my sisters, always looking for a greater purpose. But it was pretty shocking when she told us.”
“Are your parents religious?”
“They’re Catholic and go to church every Sunday, but they’re not obsessed with religion or anything. My mother cried when Catherine told her she was joining the convent. She’d always envisioned a different future for her. But you know, in the end, people are gonna do what they want. And she’s happy.”
“Good for her.”
“Funny how kids can grow up together and all be so different. Catherine’s living in a convent, praying, doing good deeds, and most nights I’m fucking around on the Internet or watching Hulu. Same parents. What happened?”
“You seem pretty successful. I’m sure they’re proud.”
“They’d like me to settle down at some point, but yeah, they haven’t disowned me yet.” He changed the subject. “So what’s the game plan for tomorrow night?”
“What do you mean?”
“Going in for the kill with Dr. Dickalicious. What’s your strategy?”
Why did I tell him about Will?“Am I supposed to have a plan?”
“Well, you want him to know you like him, right?”
“Yes. But I don’t want to be too forward. He just got out of a relationship. By the same token, guys like him don’t stay single for very long.”
“Okay, so you know you need to kill him with unattainability.”
“What does that mean?”
“Everything with men is about reverse psychology. If we think we can’t have something, we want it ten times more. We’re like toddlers that way.”
“Is that why you’re so into Julia—because she’s taken?”
He scratched his chin. “On a subconscious level, that could be fueling the fire. It’s not even close to the main reasons I like her, though.”
“What are you suggesting I do?” My tone was dismissive, but a part of me actually did want to hear what he had to say. It wasn’t often I got a man’s perspective on such things.
“Don’t show him you like him. Show him why he should like you.”
My ears perked up. “And that consists of doing what?”
“Looking fucking hot as hell, which I know you can pull off easily. Inserting yourself into conversations with everyone nearby but him—show him what he’s missing. Then when he inevitably comes around, talk to him, but then move your attention on to someone else. That will leave him hanging and wanting more. We love a good chase.”
“Doesn’t that risk making it look like I don’t like him?”
“Trust me. If he wants you, he’s going to make a move at some point. The more disinterested you seem, the harder his dick will get.”
“Well, thanks for that visual, I think.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll find that I’m pretty blunt and don’t like to beat around the bush.” He looked around. “Are we done with roomie rules?”
“Yes. I think so—until I think of something I’ve forgotten.”
“Good.” He walked over to his gym bag and opened it, taking out a couple of bottles of Gatorade. “Mind if I throw these in the fridge?”
“Not at all.”
After he placed his drinks in the refrigerator, he noticed the Tupperware container and opened it.
“Damn. I guess you liked them?”
“I got a little carried away. They were really good.”
“Is that another one of your quirks—decapitating cupcakes evenly?”
“The frosting is my favorite part.”
“You won’t eat the bottoms now?”
“Not without frosting, no.”
“Well, see? I knew we were a good match. I hate the frosting. I normally eat around it. Between this and our mutual affinity for white wine, I’d say this is gonna work out.” He grinned. “Are you a muffin-top person, too?”
“Yes.”
“Bingo. See? I’m a bottom.” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, yeah, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean.”
“You’re nuts.” I shook my head, unable to contain my smile. “Thank you again for making the cupcakes, though. That was very thoughtful.”
“Well, obviously you know I had an ulterior motive.”
“One that clearly paid off.”
His eyes wandered in the direction of the bedrooms. “Mind if go unpack?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Sweet. Lead the way.”
Declan rolled his suitcase as he followed me to his new room.
I ventured into my own room to give him some privacy, but felt unable to concentrate on anything other than the fact that he was here.
As I listened to the sound of Declan humming along to the tunes he played on his phone while he unpacked, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d been dreading having to get a new roommate, losing sleep over it. But for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was going to get a good night’s rest.
He startled me when he popped his head into my room. “Okay to hang my toothbrush next to yours?”
“Did I give you the impression that it wouldn’t be?”
“You said what’s yours is yours. So I didn’t know if that extended to the toothbrush holder.”
“I’m sorry if I came off a little harsh at first. I just need to get used to this. That’s all. I’m already feeling better about you being here.”
“Good.” He suddenly made himself comfortable on the end of my bed, lying flat on his back as he looked up at the ceiling. The sight of his long body splayed across my bed was…something else.
He rested his hands behind his head and turned to me. “You said tomorrow’s your day off, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You got eggs and bread and stuff?”
“Yes. Though I think they’re going to expire soon.”
“Cool. I’ll make breakfast for us in the morning—a little inaugural celebration. No strings. You won’t owe me anything.” He winked. “For this one.”
“You’re not gonna hear me complain about someone making breakfast for me. Ever.”
“But I’m warning you, I like to play music when I cook, shake my ass around to the beat. Sing a little. Might use a spatula for a microphone. You okay with a little kitchen karaoke?”
“As long as I’m awake and you’re clothed, go for it.”
He hopped off my bed, spun around like freaking Michael Jackson, and disappeared down the hall.
This is going to be a long six months.
