Roommates

by Erin Leigh

  Her eyes dart to the door.

  “Oh.” I walk over and open the door for her. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She smiles wide. “Normally, I can get my own door. But not here, okay? Doors to buildings, doors to cars, hand on my lower back when we enter a room, and you introduce yourself first unless I know them. This is almost like the South, minus the cool accent.” She winks and jumps out, standing on her very tiptoes and planting a small kiss on my cheek.

  “Got it.” I almost roll my eyes the way she always does, but there’s no point. We have hit blue blood country and we must act accordingly.

  My hands are a bit sweaty when I grab her small bag from the back of the truck. Meeting her mom is terrifying. I suppose because the woman hates me and doesn't even know me. I wish my mom were here so her mom would see I’m not some dumb jock.

  Following her to the door in the carport, I’m taken aback by the fancy interior of the house. This is where it differs from mine. Beautiful carpentry greets us and surrounds us. The finishing work is masterful and indicative of a fancy hotel or mansion, only on the small scale. Granite and marble and moldings.

  She must see my shock because she giggles. “My dad is a carpenter. He’s a master finisher.”

  “Yes, he is.” I turn, surprised at how the space feels so open and roomy, compared to the way our house is laid out. “It’s like the tent on Harry Potter. So much bigger inside,” I mumble.

  She giggles more. “You watched Harry Potter?”

  “Of course.” I lower my gaze to hers. “I was a kid when it came out too. We’re the same age.” I pause. “Well, I’m still twenty-two. You’re twenty-three now, so you’re older I guess.”

  She swats me and walks into the stunning rec room as her father rounds the corner. His arms are almost as wide as his smile. He’s a large man, not what I expected for a whipped dad of a princess, but the moment he has her in his arms I see it. He sighs and breathes her in. I know that feeling, holding her and smelling. Inhaling her.

  She pulls back and holds her hand in my direction. “This is Brady Coldwell. Brady, this is my dad, Thomas.”

  “Hello, sir, nice to meet you.” I offer him my hand and let his grip be stronger. It is stronger, but I don't let the cock fight instinct win.

  “You too, Brady. I am a huge fan. That goal on Thursday out of the penalty box was some kind of amazing. Congratulations on the win.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Tom. Just Tom, son. Sir makes me sound old and that's impossible.” He looks at Nat and winks. “Your mother is in the kitchen.” She smiles wide, but her eyes don't hide the fact she’s a bit concerned, or just plain old terrified. I’m not sure which.

  “Okay.” She walks away from us, leaving me with the good guy.

  “You want a drink?” Her dad strolls over to the small bar and nods at the mini fridge.

  “Sure, I’ll have a beer please.”

  He gets us both one. It makes me smile that he drinks Budweiser in Greenwich. “So you and my daughter, huh?” He hands me the beer. “Now, I don't want to go all high and mighty on you about how my daughter is an angel and it’s quite likely that you’re not.”

  My insides tighten, but I keep a straight face. I’ve never actually had this speech before.

  “But I also don't want you to get confused about the girl you’re dating.” He cocks a dark-gray eyebrow and gives me a steely stare down. “She’s an angel. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir—Tom. I understand.” And I do. If she was my daughter and she brought home me, I would have a shit fit.

  He lifts the beer and clinks it against mine. “Don't make me have to make you disappear. I know how to run the machinery needed to dig a hole thirty feet, son. That's all it takes to make someone disappear completely.”

  I swallow hard and nod again. “Yes, sir.”

  He winks. “Now, tell me about your plans for the Rangers. I heard they have some talk about bringing you up.”

  “I’ve heard the same rumors, which would be amazing. Then Nat and I could live in the same tow—” I stop and sip the beer. “It’s always been my goal to play NHL.”

  “Hold up a minute. You and Nat don't live in the same town now?” His eyes, which had warmed up seconds ago, become steely again. “Where the hell is my daughter living?” His grip on the bottle tightens.

  “She lives in Hartford. She just got a huge job offer and a massive promotion, but it’s in New York. I think she’s planning on taking it, but she wants to tell you the news herself.”

  His eyes widen and a smile cracks his hardened face. “That's my girl.” He chuckles. “I won’t rat you out for spoiling her big surprise.” He takes a swig and nods slowly. “Now back to the important stuff—how long do you think you’ll be able to stay AHL before you decide to find something else in the world?”

  “Five years is what I gave myself. If after five years I don't get called up, I would start thinking about what else I can do in life. I got my undergrad from Michigan so at least I have that. It’s a start.”

  “That’s a good plan. Five years is long enough to decide if hockey is everything or just a piece of the puzzle.”

  I don't tell him that his daughter has already worked that one out for me. She’s not more important than hockey, but she’s almost on an even scale with it, and considering how long it’s taken me to get to this place with hockey, that's pretty impressive. My end goal is to have both.

  He turns and sighs, looking at the hallway. “Well, guess we better go face the music. I’m sure she’s had enough time to tell her mom everything she needs to. We should rescue her by throwing you under the bus.” He laughs and strolls down the hall.

  There aren’t a lot of things I fear but for some reason, I desperately fear her mom. I think her fear has somehow seeped into me.

  The stairs feel like they’re a mile long and when we get up to the top I can tell her mom isn’t happy. She looks similar to Nat, or Nat looks similar to her, only she’s older. They have the same sapphire eyes. Nat’s are filled with tears and her mom’s are bearing down on me with pure icy-cold hate.

  “Darlene, this is Brady. Natalie’s boyfriend.” Her dad offers me up to the wolves. “Brady, this is Nat’s mom, and the light of my life, Darlene.” His smile is filled with all sorts of things I don't think I want to know about.

  “Nice to meet you,” she says after she looks me up and down, appraisingly.

  “You as well, ma’am. You have a very lovely home.”

  Her eyes narrow, but she darts to Natalie to exact her cruelty. “You’ve come with very little time to get ready. I suggest you show Brady to the guestroom and get dressed. We have to be there in an hour.”

  “You said seven.”

  “Six. Honestly, Natalie, how do you expect to impress people in New York if you’re tardy in Greenwich?” She sniffs, like in the movies, and stalks from the room. Nat’s dad rolls his eyes, exactly the same way Natalie does.

  He turns and follows her, obviously going to smooth things over.

  I’ve seen behavior like this before. The high-maintenance housewives where I billeted acted like this. It was like Real Housewives, but unscripted.

  Nat stares after her. Her lips are pressed into a tight line. I walk to her, wrapping my entire body around hers and breathing her in. “It doesn't matter what they think. I get that they've been hands-on for twenty-three years, but now you have to choose for you.”

  Her eyes dart to mine, filled with the same icy hatred. “Could you do the same? Walk away from hockey and disappoint them?”

  “I’m not playing for them. I’m playing for me and the love of the game. Can you honestly say you love the game here?” I’m trying desperately to keep my voice down.

  “No. I hate it. I don't want to marry well or even think about that. Look at Sami. She has all the money in the world and she’s miserable. She’ll never admit she’s in love with Matt. She won’t ever. She’ll ruin this.”

  “Or he
will,” I add, cocking my head to the side in doubt.

  “Right, but they won’t ever move past seeing each other and maybe some other people. They’re the wrong people for each other. He’s not quite rich enough for her family and he’s new money. She’s a bit too wild for his family.”

  I cup her face and nod. “Exactly.”

  She blinks and sighs, losing some of whatever the feeling is she’s holding back. Whatever it is, it’s making her vibrate a little.

  This is going to be a ridiculous night.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Insight and foreplay

  Natalie

  Squeezing his hand as we enter the mansion overlooking the golf course is the only thing that gets me by.

  Sami comes strolling across the foyer, greeting me with a hug and two kisses. She does the same to Brady. “I am so glad you guys decided to come.”

  “Did you bring Matt?” He sounds hopeful as his dark eyes scan the room.

  “No.” She scoffs and gives me a look like I should be snickering with her. “How did Mommy Dearest take the news?” She bats her lashes.

  “Worse than you can imagine.” My insides are raw from the acid eating at my spine. I should have eaten more before I told my mom.

  “What did you say? I want full details.” Sami links her arm in mine and Brady’s and leads us to the great room.

  “I walked upstairs and she spat her greeting, telling me wasn’t happy I brought Brady after dating him for only two weeks.”

  “Sound advice.” Sami winks and earns a look from Brady.

  “Then I told her I had taken the job and was moving in with you at your dad’s penthouse because it’s stupid big, and you won’t even know I’m there. I told her I was going to be able to save mad amounts of money and be successful and focus on my career.”

  “All sounds reasonable and responsible. Darlene should approve of all those things.” She laughs. “I know my parents got ridiculously excited when I told them you were moving home. Dad said ‘Finally, the prodigal daughter returns home.’ He said I better not waste my opportunity to learn how to be reliable and something about fiscal blah, blah, blah.”

  “That's exciting.” I laugh but it makes me feel better. Her parents are officially the worst at actual parenting. She is one-hundred percent a product of her environment. But they are awesome people who care about Sami and want her to succeed. They just don't have the skills to teach her. “Anyway, so then Mom asked why I couldn't give William another chance. He really was sorry and he loved me. She actually said that boys will be boys, and he was only sewing oats. Those girls meant nothing to him. So I said, over twenty girls means he has a problem, and I wouldn't let him clean dog shit off my shoe.”

  “Nice. So then what did she say?” She hands me a champagne flute and one to Brady. We both smile at the dainty glass in his huge hands with the black eye. He looks bored as hell, likely because he’s already heard this ghastly story as I was getting ready. He suffered through my being emotional.

  “She said she was disgusted at what I had become in so few months. She said I have proven what kind of a person I am and she can no longer support me in the decisions I make.”

  “What a fucking bitch. I mean, she’s your mom so I shouldn't say that, but what the actual fuck? I can’t even.” Sami pauses and Brady looks pissed again.

  “I don't know what it means to can’t even, but I can’t even either.” Brady shakes his head.

  “If she wants to disown you then that’s her loss. Your dad still loves you.”

  I glance their way, earning avoidance from my mom and a soft smile from my dad. “Yeah. I just need to let her digest it and realize she can’t emotionally blackmail me into kowtowing and doing the things she wants and not what I want.” Those are Brady’s words.

  “Exactly. Let’s get pissed.” She drags me to the far side of the room.

  A friendly face and a wide smile welcome me. Rich, William’s younger brother, comes to greet me. “The wicked witch of scandalized women everywhere. How are you?” His eyes dart to Brady, drawing into a scowl. “What in the gods happened to your eye?” He sort of laughs as he says it.

  Brady nudges his head toward me.

  Rich laughs. “Yes, you must tow the line with this one. She’s feisty.”

  “I’m learning.” Brady smiles wide and offers a hand. “Brady Coldwell.”

  “I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Rich Fairfield, this is my boyfriend who is a hockey player, Brady Coldwell. The eye is from a game.”

  “Fairfield?” Brady’s eyes narrow.

  “The better half of the bloodline. I’m afraid the gene pool is so shallow from inbreeding, only one of us could get a personality and one of us could have looks. As you can see William is the handsomer of the two of us.” He winks. He’s not wrong, but his personality points make him a higher hottie score than William is. He hugs me one more time. “I just want to say that the group text was the highlight of my fall.”

  “I felt sick for days. I still can’t believe I did it.”

  “Karen’s here. She’s lurking about sheepishly in case you attack I think.” He chuckles even louder.

  “Oh God.” I cover my eyes. “I am a monster.”

  “Well, I don't think you’ll ever be mistaken for the Beauty to his Beast. Finding a flaw in this one must be difficult.” Rich laughs and winks at Brady. “Now excuse me. I must go find my mother and ensure she’s not taking her special pills with her drinks.” He waves at Brady and struts off.

  “Really gay, right?” Brady looks lost.

  “Exceptionally.”

  “I thought rich people hated gays.”

  Sami cocks an eyebrow. “Not to encourage bigot hour but no. Rich people don't dislike gays. That's a religious situation. Besides, his parents have Sir William to provide them an heir to the throne.” She laughs and turns. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

  Dread slams into me as I turn and sigh, seeing William walking in with a beautiful redhead on his arm. “He hates the Vandervalks. Why is he here?”

  “Not a clue. Nice to see he brought a little party favor.” Sami snorts. “Isn’t that the model who was just on Victoria Secret’s angel commercial?”

  “Helena Varney.” Brady’s face is beet red. He turns and gives me a look. Even the black eye can’t hide the fact he’s banged that girl.

  Sami winces. “I hate how small the world has become.”

  “Me too.” But the whole thing makes me smile, like a crazy person. Most likely because I am emotionally tapped and can’t possibly cope with another bad thing.

  William and Helena walk straight for us. She’s wearing a silky black slip-styled dress with the skirt designed in handkerchief layers so it flows and moves like the wind is walking with her. Her red hair is in soft curls down to her tiny waist and though she has no bra on, her breasts are still very round and perky. Her gray eyes don't move from Brady as they get to us.

  “Hello, ladies.” William offers us a smug grin. “This is Helena. She’s a model.” He is loving himself so much it’s almost unbearable. I don't know how I ever missed what a fucking dickhead he is.

  His whole face is caught up in the laugh he isn’t releasing. Like he’s stifling it but laughing on the inside freely.

  “Helena, this is Sami, Natalie, and of course you probably know Brady. Everyone knows Brady.” He bites his lip.

  She smiles at us and nods. “Brady, the famous hockey player on TV, of course.” She of course has an accent to go with her perfect face and body.

  Brady nods at William, ignoring the girl completely.

  “Eye looks a little worse for wear. Piss someone else off?” William smirks.

  “I need a drink. It’s nice to meet you, Helena.” I smile at the redhead and stroll away with my drink in my hand, dragging Brady away by his clenching hand.

  “Let’s avoid that, shall we?” I glance up at his stormy face. Something about his moods makes me find him more attractive. I don't n
eed him to fight to know he would protect me. That's strangely seductive.

  Looking across the room I realize that I always felt like I had to fight for William. I fought for his attention. I stayed calm when I should have gotten upset so he wouldn't think I was one of those girls. I was the thing he wanted me to be because my mom convinced me I wanted it too.

  But I haven’t been any of those things with Brady. He was my friend, my hot roommate who I acted like me in front of. I zoned out, I wore sweats, I burped, and I said inappropriate things. I never let him win like I did William. I was just me, no more and no less, and none of the things my mom needed me to be.

  William is all the things a young blue-blooded male should be. He’s funny, handsome, polite when it matters, part of good society, and from a great family. He’s smart and one day he will be incredibly successful.

  But he has never stood out in the rain and told me that he liked me and that he wanted to date me. He has never made me feel like he would fight for me. And he certainly never gave me a birthday surprise like that.

  I squeeze Brady’s hand and give him a look. “I am completely pissed you screwed that Victoria’s Secret model. It’s irrational, I know.” His jaw drops but I shake my head. “I just want you to know, I’m not cool. I am that girl. I’m jealous and annoyed and kind of grossed out.”

  His eyebrows lift as he slowly loses the worry on his face. “Jealous of a crazy model?” He leans forward, brushing his lips softly along my cheek. “You should be trying to look as happy as you can. There’s no way William brought that particular model to this particular party without knowing she and I knew each other one time at a PF party.”

  “Gross.”

  “You’re missing the point.” He kisses my cheek again. “He brought her here to get between us. He’s still jealous.”

  “Oh, good call.” My eyes light up as my mouth curls into a wry grin. “Look at you being all brainy and shit.”

  “How long do we have to stay?” He looks so out of place it’s almost funny.

  “We don't have to. I’ll go and say happy anniversary and we can go.”