Roommate Romance

by Maggie Riley

  “But why do you care?”

  “Because I’m your brother.” His voice was indignant. “And I care about . . .” He trailed off and shot me a look. “I see what you’re doing. Nice work. Very sneaky.”

  “If I tell you about Shane, will you please talk to me about what’s going on with you?” I asked him gently.

  “I already told you what’s going on.” Josh looked up at the ceiling. “I miss baseball. And I don’t know how to do anything else.” He sounded so miserable that my heart ached.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I told him.

  He let out a humorless laugh. “Sounds good.” He rolled his eyes. “Let me know when you find someone who wants to hire an injured minor-league baseball player who barely finished college.” He sighed. “Look, Allie, I’m fine. Financially I’m solid. I’ve got enough to stay in Nebraska and watch my nieces and nephews grow up.”

  It was a slight dig at me, but I ignored it.

  “I can’t let you just stay in Nebraska and play video games all day.”

  “I don’t play video games all day,” he retorted. “I . . . do other things . . .” He trailed off, a look of frustration coming over his face.

  Standing, he stalked over to me and grabbed his glass of whiskey. He took a long drink.

  “Your turn,” he ordered. “Shane. Spill.”

  Our conversation about Josh’s current aimlessness wasn’t anywhere near done, but I could tell he was upset. And fair was fair. He had been honest with me, at least. I owed him the same.

  “He’s a guy,” I started, trying to figure out how to talk to my older brother about my casual sex buddy.

  “Yeah, I figured that one out all on my own.” Josh gestured for me to continue.

  I sighed and explained how Liz had messed up her sublet and we had been living as roommates for the past month or so.

  “Obviously as more than roommates,” Josh noted.

  Blushing, I nodded. “But it’s casual. Nothing serious.”

  “According to who?” Josh asked, settling back in his chair. “Because the look on that guy’s face was not casual at all.”

  “You’re wrong,” I argued, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about. “We’re on the same page. I checked.”

  “Yeah, OK.” Josh rolled his eyes. “So what’s wrong with him, then?”

  I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about?”

  “The reason you’re keeping it casual. What’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with him,” I sputtered. “I just don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “Hate to break it to you, kiddo.” Josh reached out and patted my leg. “But you’re in a relationship already.”

  I swatted him away.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just calling it like it is.”

  “Right, because you’re an authority on relationships.”

  His ears got pink at that. If anything, my brother was a pro at being casual with the women he dated.

  “I just have to focus on my career right now,” I told him. “I can’t let myself get distracted from this next production. Too much depends on the out-of-town performances. If it doesn’t go to Broadway, I won’t be going either.”

  Josh frowned. “Out of town? What are you talking about?”

  I chewed my fingernails. “I got a job with a production that’s hoping to go to Broadway. But they’re doing an out-of-town run first.”

  Josh’s frown deepened. “What about the Hole in the Wall? Wasn’t Reagan saying something about the next show they were doing? Why aren’t you stage managing that?”

  I glanced down at my hands.

  “I thought you liked working at that theatre.” Josh looked confused, and I didn’t blame him. “And Reagan seems like a total weirdo, but she seems like your kind of weirdo.”

  I shot him a look.

  “What?” he demanded. “You’re the one skipping out on them.”

  “I’m not skipping out.” I blew out a breath. “My contract was for one show.”

  “And they don’t want you to stay?”

  “No,” I said slowly. “They do.” I put my head in my hands. “They probably think I am staying,” I admitted, my voice muffled.

  Josh didn’t say anything, and I looked up at him. He had a strange look on his face. One of disapproval. I didn’t like it.

  “You know I’ve always wanted to work on a Broadway show,” I rushed to explain. “This is my best chance to do that. And this theatre is great, but you’re right, it is weird and it’s also off-Broadway, which sounds really, really snobby, I know, but I feel like after the reviews this show is getting, it will help me get a job at another theatre, and Reagan and Joanna will find someone else to stage manage the next show. There are tons of stage managers out there and people will be lined up to work with them.” I was out of breath at the end of my speech and had to gulp in air.

  Still, Josh didn’t say anything.

  “What?” I snapped. “Either say something or stop staring at me.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Wow,” he said. “I never realized you had such a big problem with commitment.”

  “I do not!” I sputtered. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” Josh crossed his arms. “It sounds like you always had one foot out the door with both this job and with Shane. Like you were already planning your next step before you even really got started with either.”

  “That’s not true,” I argued, even as I realized that it was absolutely true. I slumped back. “Shit,” I muttered.

  I was a work and relationship commitment-phobe. I put my desire to work on Broadway above everything else. But realizing it didn’t change anything, did it? I still wanted to work on Broadway. I couldn’t help that.

  But maybe I was being unfair to Shane. And to Reagan and Joanna. Clearly I had to have a conversation with all of them.

  “Shit,” I said again.

  “Yep.” Josh passed me his whiskey, and this time I took a nice, long drink. “Shit.”

  Chapter 28

  SHANE

  This time, when I was woken up by someone crawling into bed with me, it was someone who was very, very drunk. Someone who giggled and nearly fell down as she pawed at the blankets that she was perched on. Still half asleep, I sat up and blinked at Allie, who was now battling with her shirt buttons. She looked up from her work and gave me a drunk, lazy smile that hit me right in my solar plexus.

  “Hel-lo,” she purred, reaching out and putting her arms around my neck.

  “Hi.” I knew I should have pulled away, but before I could, Allie was climbing into my lap. And I didn’t do anything to stop her. How could I? She always felt so nice in my arms.

  She was a little chilled, her cold hair brushing against my face as she leaned in and kissed me. Allie herself might have been unsteady, but the kiss was anything but. I couldn’t help my reaction. I was immediately hard as her soft body pressed against mine, pushing me down on the bed until she was sprawled on top of me.

  While her tongue toyed with mine, her hands went exploring. But before she could get too far, I caught her wrists and pinned them to her sides. Her expression went from lazily aroused to red hot.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, rocking against me. “I like that.”

  So did I. In fact, I liked everything she was doing. I liked it so much that I completely forgot how annoyed I had been that afternoon. Because she was here now. And all mine. But no matter how much I wanted to roll her beneath me, losing myself in her sweetness and her softness, I also knew that I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right.

  “You’re drunk,” I told her needlessly.

  She nodded, her head heavy. “But I have complete control of my facilities,” she told me.

  “At least control of your big words,” I noted.

  “Come on, Shane,” she rocked her hips forward. “I know you want me. I can feel that you want me.”

  Oh yeah. There was no way sh
e couldn’t. I was practically bursting through the sheet. And that swiveling thing she was doing with her lower body was not helping at all. Letting go of her wrists, I clamped my hands down on her hips in an effort to keep her still.

  I could practically hear her pout. “You’re no fun,” she told me.

  “Why don’t we get you some water and a few hours of sleep.” I gently pushed her onto her back, sliding out from under her. “I’ll still be fun when you sober up.”

  Without waiting for a response, I went to the kitchen and got her a glass of water. When I returned to the bedroom, she was still sitting on top of the covers, her shirt only half unbuttoned, looking slightly forlorn.

  I settled next to her and handed her the water. She drank it and then let out a sigh.

  “I’m a jerk,” she informed me.

  “Who told you that?” I asked, wondering if she’d had a fight with Josh, all the while trying to keep my eyes from wandering down to stare at the way her shirt was gaping in a very appealing way. Her breasts looked like they were on the verge of spilling out.

  And then Allie shook her head. Or rather, she shook her whole body, including her breasts, which made them bounce. I clenched my hands into fists to keep from touching her. Because I knew that if I did, we were going to do a whole lot more than just touch each other.

  “I was rude today,” Allie said, and I pushed naked thoughts out of my head and forced myself to focus on her face. Her very contrite face. “I should have introduced you to my family,” she sighed. “I should have told you they were coming.”

  “It’s fine,” I told her, even though it hadn’t felt fine. But it wasn’t fair to her. Because my feelings were my own business and my own fault. “You always said this was casual,” I reminded her. I reminded myself. Again and again. “Casual doesn’t usually include introductions to family members who are visiting from out of town.”

  Allie put her hand on my cheek. It felt good. Too good. Taking her wrist, I pulled her hand away, laying it in her lap. If she was upset by the gesture, her face didn’t show it.

  “That’s not the only reason I’m a jerk,” she said. “I got a job.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “And I have to leave New York for it.” She was twisting the hem of her shirt in her hand and I realized I was holding my breath. “But only for a little while. And when I come back, I’ll be on Broadway.” She flung her hands out. “Just like I wanted.”

  “Just like you wanted,” I echoed, feeling even worse than I had before. “That’s great, Allie,” I managed to say.

  “I haven’t told Reagan or Joanna,” she said. “That’s why I’m a jerk.”

  “You can tell them tomorrow,” I told her. “They’ll be happy for you.”

  “And you?” Allie blinked up at me. “Are you happy for me? Are you glad I got the job?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I knew it was her dream—that she wanted to work on Broadway, that she would have done anything to get there. And this job sounded like it would take her one step closer. The last thing I wanted was to hold her back.

  “I’m glad you got the job,” I told her, wishing I was glad.

  Her face seemed to fall, and I didn’t understand why.

  “I want to tell you something else,” she said in a whisper. “Something about this.” She gestured to herself and then to me.

  But the last thing I wanted to do was reiterate that this was casual. I knew it was casual. And now she was leaving. And this would be over. It was over.

  “You should get some sleep,” I told her. “You might have a hell of a headache tomorrow.”

  She nodded and yawned. Apparently she had lost her train of thought. Good. I stood, because all of a sudden, I didn’t think I could sleep in the same bed as her without wanting to touch her, kiss her, take her. This she noticed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, climbing under the covers.

  “I thought I’d sleep on the couch tonight,” I told her, standing there feeling unbearably naked—both literally and figuratively.

  Allie frowned, and some of her drunken haze seemed to lift.

  “Please don’t,” she whispered. “Stay here,” she patted the spot next to her.

  It wasn’t a good idea, but when she raised her eyes to mine, I knew I couldn’t say no to her. Even though tomorrow morning, she’d likely be back to keeping me at an arm’s distance or further. She wanted me at night. When we were alone. I thought that would be enough. It usually was with other women—or it had been. But not with Allie. I wanted more.

  She didn’t. She had made that clear in the way she had done everything to avoid introducing me to her family. The way she hadn’t even told me they were in town. So it would be better if I ended all of this now.

  But looking down at her, at her big round eyes, I still wanted her. Wanted to touch her, kiss her, be buried deep inside her.

  So I crawled in next to her, gathering her in my arms. In a few minutes her breathing evened out and I knew she was asleep. I could have gotten out of bed. I could have untangled myself from her embrace. But I didn’t. Instead I fell asleep, knowing that I was completely and utterly screwed.

  ALLIE

  I woke up with a killer headache, dry mouth, and a very hard, warm body beneath me. Lifting my head, I found that I was completely sprawled across Shane’s chest, his arms wrapped around my waist. Suddenly my headache didn’t feel so terrible, and I didn’t even mind the dry mouth, because I had the best view in the entire state of New York.

  God, Shane was handsome when he slept. He was handsome when he was awake too. Just handsome all the time. All the damn time. He was nice, too. Funny, and kind, and he kissed like a god.

  So why did I have one foot out the door? Why wasn’t I giving this a chance to be something more? I had left the hotel intending to tell Shane that I wanted to do just that. But I had gotten so drunk that I couldn’t remember what had happened when I got back to the apartment.

  Beneath me, Shane let out a soft groan and opened his eyes.

  “Morning.” I pushed my hair out of my face.

  “Hey.” Shane’s voice was rough, low. Sexy. But the look he was giving me wasn’t one of desire or lust. It was one of wariness.

  “Thanks for taking care of me last night,” I told him.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “All I did was get you some water.”

  His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and it became very clear that in the last twelve hours something had changed. An enormous wall had gone up between us, and I wasn’t exactly sure why. Was it because of yesterday? Of everything that happened at the theatre?

  But hadn’t we talked about that? My memories from last night began coming back. I remembered leaving Josh at the hotel with the intention to talk to Shane. To explain myself. To apologize. I had a vague memory of him telling me it was all right. That he wasn’t upset. Had I just imagined the entire thing? All of a sudden I felt very awkward in our current position. I rolled off him, and he let me, his arms immediately releasing me. I realized then that I was still fully clothed, including my shoes.

  Getting out of the bed, I noticed that my shirt was half unbuttoned. I quickly fixed it, smoothing my wild hair into something that hopefully seemed presentable. The air was thick with awkwardness. An awkwardness I didn’t quite understand.

  “Did—did something happen last night?” I asked, my memories still a little blurry.

  Shane sat up, sheets gathered low around his waist. I forced my gaze on his face, even though I never tired of looking at his smooth chest, flat stomach and muscular arms.

  “Nothing happened,” he told me.

  I stood there, twisting my fingers together. “Nothing?” My head throbbed.

  “We had a very brief conversation,” he informed me. “You used some pretty big words for someone as intoxicated as you were.”

  “Big words like ‘supercilious’?”

  Shane raised an eyebrow. “Not quite. You told me you were in charge of all
your facilities.”

  “Oh, so I lied.” I tried to say it playfully.

  He nodded. But there was no smile anywhere to be found on his face.

  “Did I—did I say anything else?” Had I admitted to him that maybe I was feeling things for him that were decidedly not casual? That maybe I was opening up to something serious?

  Shane was quiet for a moment.

  “Shane—” My voice was almost a plea. I knew I had said something, I just couldn’t remember what.

  He looked up at me. “You told me about your new job.” He gave me a small smile. “I’m really happy for you, Allie.”

  “But did we talk about . . . us?” I managed.

  He looked at me. “We just agreed that this thing between us is still casual,” he said and my heart dropped down to my knees.

  Had we? What had happened to my plan to tell him the exact opposite? I was starting to really, really hate whiskey. It seemed to have wiped my memory clean. And now, even if I could, I wasn’t sure I wanted to recall last night. Especially if I had screwed this up so magnificently.

  “Oh,” I felt my mouth go even drier. “OK. If that’s what we agreed on.”

  Shane got up and pulled on a pair of jeans before turning to face me. “It’s for the best, isn’t it?” he asked, coming over. “After all, you’ve got that new job. You’re not going to be around that much. And I’m so busy with the workshop and everything else. Maybe it’s better this way.”

  I nodded. Everything he was saying was true: we had agreed to be casual, I had another job—the kind of job I had been working towards all this time—so why did it feel like such a hollow victory? Why did I hurt so much all of a sudden? Why did it feel like something inside of me was breaking?

  He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It felt like goodbye. It felt terrible.

  “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he told me, giving my hip a squeeze. “I’ll see you later.”