ROOMIES (Strangers-To-Lovers Romance Novel)

by Bella Grant

  10

  Theodore lay with Amelia asleep in his arms. He leaned into her neck, breathing deeply and inhaling the scent of her shampoo, the warm, sweet smell of her skin. She mumbled a little in her sleep and nuzzled her face into his bare chest. Theodore wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze, kissing the top of her head.

  He was in big fucking trouble. As the glow wore off, he lay wide awake, wondering what the hell he was doing and how they were going to make this work. He had come here intending to talk to her, to work things out. Instead, he had fucked her on her kitchen counter. He leaned back against the pillow, his head swirling.

  She did something to him. Amelia was different, and Theodore, while not a player by any means, had been with enough women to know that difference when it was wrapped in his arms sleeping. He ran through all the possible scenarios of how to make it work, and he kept coming back to the fact that she was his student and he was her professor, and if anyone found out, he was fucked. She’d be in trouble, too, but the burden of responsibility lay on him.

  He wasn’t willing to give her up, though. Not yet. Not before they had a chance to explore this thing between them, this thing that made his heart feel all the emotions he’d spent his life reading about and never believing to be true. Was his career worth that? Was she? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. He couldn’t. He was completely smitten.

  “You’re my perfect man,” she had whispered to him sleepily, dozing off in his arms. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  Theodore swallowed the dry lump that had lodged in his throat. He lay next to her, staring at the ceiling, the twinkle of lights casting shadows on the ceiling. He turned his head and looked at the bedside clock. It was 3:07 a.m.

  Pulling his arm carefully from under her head, he leaned over her and kissed her. “I have to go,” he said softly.

  “No,” she mumbled, her hair falling in her face. He brushed it away and kissed her again.

  “I have to,” he told her gently. “I can’t get caught here in the morning. Call me tomorrow. We really need to talk about this.”

  “Theodore,” she sighed dreamily, pulling him towards her.

  He lifted her limp arm off his torso and positioned it next to her. He ran one hand down her smooth skin, over her breast, and across her taut stomach and the soft swell of her hip. Kissing her shoulder one last time, he lifted the covers and climbed out of her bed. She mumbled something and rolled onto her stomach. Theodore looked at the perfect curves of her ass before pulling the covers up over her and smoothing her hair out of her face.

  “I love you,” she mumbled, drunk with sleep.

  The words froze him, one leg in his pants and the other forgotten. He stared at her. She loved him? The words echoed in his ears as his heart pounded. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to run out the door or dive back into the bed, scoop her up, and fuck her senseless again, making her moan, and scream, and cry out his name like she had just hours before, shaking and quivering on his cock and begging him not to stop.

  She loved him. Did she mean it? Was she just dreaming? Were those words she spoke for him? He buttoned his shirt and lifted his coat carefully from the chair in the kitchen, closing the door softly behind him.

  The night air hit him like a blast of reality. He breathed deep, the cold burning his lungs. He took the steps down two at a time. He considered going home, but there was nothing for him there. Nothing that compared to the warm, naked girl he’d left in bed, whispering to him that she loved him. What the fuck was waiting for him in his apartment after that? Boxes of books and piles of dirty laundry he hadn’t had the chance to get to because of the ever-demanding stacks of papers that lay on every surface in need of grading.

  Theodore walked towards campus, wandering aimlessly under the trees on the front lawn. He walked to the literature building and considered going to his office, but it was too late to start any real work. As he walked, passing by the administration building, he considered his options.

  He could end it. But that wasn’t going to happen. If he was capable of ending it, it wouldn’t have started in the first place. His position at this university was a good one, one with prospects. But Amelia felt just as important, just as rare an opportunity. There should be no necessity to choose between them, his job or this woman. As he glanced up at the dark, ominous windows of the Dean’s suite, he hoped his situation would never come to that.

  He could quit. That, too, was an impossible option as he considered the practicalities of it. He had student loans to repay, and a tenure-track position at a prestigious university was basically a godsend these days. Tenure was harder to come by every year, and he had a real opportunity for advancement here if he could finish his book and get it out for publication. He could make a life here. This could be his career.

  Theodore rubbed his eyes. She had said she loved him. She must not have meant it. Surely she said it in some sleep-hazed dream and not to him. Otherwise, it just didn’t make sense. How could she love him when she hardly knew him? Did he love her? Should he love her?

  He wasn’t sure how to name them, exactly, but the feelings he had for her were powerful and the words he had to describe them felt unworthy. She was everything he wanted in a woman—gorgeous and smart, funny, kind to everyone he’d seen her with. And perhaps most importantly, she was into him.

  In addition to all that, Theodore also couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the best sex he’d ever had in his life, no exaggeration. The thought of her on the counter, her legs wrapped around his waist, her eyes searching him, begging for more, made his erection return instantly.

  Theodore adjusted his pants and groaned. That left one other option. They could keep it secret. He wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it, and he was afraid to ask. He didn’t want their budding relationship to end. Plus, he sucked at deception. Theodore was an honest guy, though not necessarily because he was a perfect guy with untarnished morals. Rather, he was a terrible liar and had been his whole life. He was an honest, stand-up guy among his peers, who admired this trait about him without realizing it was a default setting for lack of any other.

  Still, for Amelia, Theodore could learn to lie effectively. He’d learn to live a double life, a secret life with her as his woman, if that’s what it took to keep her. He wasn’t willing to give up, not yet. And the only thing that stood between him and this working was Amelia herself—and her degree of willingness to pretend that nothing was going on between them. If she was willing, they could be together.

  Theodore rounded the corner to his street and walked down the silent avenue in the faculty neighborhood full of his sleeping peers. Thinking about what he’d just had with Amelia, their raw, passionate sex, aroused him. He could still feel the heat from the tracks her nails had left on his back.

  He unlocked the door to his apartment and kicked off his pants, tossing his shirt and coat on the floor. He climbed into bed and stroked his rigid, aching member, desperately in need of another release. This girl was going to be the death of him. Theodore closed his eyes and thought of her body, the noises she had made as he moved inside her, the way she bit her lip and stared at him as if he was the only man in the world and she wanted nothing more than to belong to him. He pictured her face and imagined the sweet taste of her kisses, and just before he came, he heard her words in his head. “I love you.”

  “Oh, fuck!” he moaned, slowing his hand as he came. He was panting and hot, and he kicked the blankets off as he lay back on the pillows.

  Eventually, Theodore got up and turned on the shower. It was nearly dawn, and outside his window, he saw the first fingers of light emerging from below the horizon. He wondered if Amelia was still sleeping or if she had woken up, wondering where he was. He leaned against the shower wall, exhausted. He was emotionally and physically drained. It had been years since he’d felt so completely satisfied. Amelia was his drug, and he was addicted.

  Theodore closed the shades and
crawled into bed. It was Sunday, and the paper-grading could wait. As he fell asleep, he thought of Amelia, her scent, and the soft, velvety sensation of her skin beneath his fingertips. He dreamed she was with him, lying in his bed next to him, wrapped in his arms. And just before he fell into the deep, senseless valley of sleep, Theodore thought he heard himself say, on the distant surface of his consciousness, “I love you, too.” It was as if he was trying out the words, seeing how they sounded, saying them to the ghost of Amelia who was not in his arms but lying in her own bed across town.

  11

  Amelia rolled over and felt the empty space in the bed next to her. She opened her eyes and looked around, and when she did, her heart panged. Theodore was gone. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, although she wasn’t surprised. When she thought about it, she vaguely remembered him saying he had to go in the middle of the night. Still, Amelia was disappointed to find him gone. This surely had to be a bad omen.

  As she showered, standing under the hot stream of water, Amelia replayed the night before. The way he had picked her up, her legs wrapped around his waist. The way she had moaned as he moved in her. Amelia froze as her eyes flashed open, a feeling of dread settling on her. Had they used protection? She wasn’t on anything… no birth control pills or shot. Had Theodore put on a condom? She wasn’t sure. The water felt rough against her skin and her head began to pound.

  He must have used something, she soothed herself. She couldn’t imagine the possibility that he hadn’t. And even if he hadn’t, it was unlikely that she’d get pregnant. The rate of conception was way lower than the numbers people liked to scare teenagers with to keep them from having sex. She shook the thought from her head and turned off the water.

  Amelia wrapped herself in a towel and sat on the bed. She picked up her phone and texted Frankie. I slept with him.

  Her phone rang seconds later. “Hey,” she answered.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” he shouted into her ear. “You slept with him?!”

  Amelia fought the urge to cry. “Are you busy?” she asked quietly.

  “Well, I was, but now I’m on my way to your place,” Frankie replied. “I’ll be there in five.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Amelia replied. “Bye.”

  She threw her phone on the bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Then she curled up in a ball on the bed and waited for Frankie to arrive.

  “Ames, what are you doing?” he asked when she opened the door.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed, collapsing into his hug. “I feel so fucked up right now.”

  “Why?” Frankie asked, cocking his head to the side. “Let’s figure this out.”

  They sat cross-legged on her sofa. Amelia held a cup of tea in her lap and stared at the steam rising from the water.

  “Is it because he’s your professor?” Frankie pressed.

  “No,” Amelia sighed. “I just feel… trashy? I haven’t slept with anyone in, well, years. And then he comes over, and it just happened.”

  “Really?” Frankie asked, aghast. “Years?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia said, making a face. “Years. And I guess I felt like even though things were sort of moving in that direction, I don’t know…”

  She trailed off and Frankie looked at her intently. “There’s something else going on that you’re not saying,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you hiding?”

  Amelia looked up at him and felt her eyes fill with tears. “We didn’t…” She stopped and stared at her tea. “I don’t think we used protection,” she mumbled.

  “What?” Frankie howled. “You don’t think you used it? Ames! Dude!”

  “I know!” she cried. “It all just sort of happened. And I didn’t think to ask him, and he didn’t ask me. Maybe he thinks I’m on the pill. I don’t know. But… I don’t think he put on a condom.”

  “I mean, couldn’t you tell?” he asked.

  “No,” Amelia moaned. “I honestly didn’t notice. I was sort of distracted. It didn’t occur to me until this morning in the shower.”

  “I mean… I don’t even know what to say to that,” Frankie replied, shaking his head. “I just… straight people, man. You guys kill me.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” Amelia said, her chin quivering as she fought back the tears.

  “So what are you going to do?” asked Frankie.

  “I honestly don’t know,” she said. “Try not to panic, I guess. Just wait and see? The possibility I’d get pregnant is pretty small, right?”

  “You’re asking me?” Frankie laughed and clapped a hand to his mouth. “Sorry. It’s just family planning is not something I usually think about, you know. I mean, the whole thing is sort of ridiculous, if you think about it.”

  “I know,” Amelia sighed.

  “I guess you should talk to him,” Frankie said.

  “I know,” she repeated.

  “So I gotta ask,” Frankie said slyly, lightening the mood. “How was it?”

  “It was incredible,” Amelia sighed. “It was perfect.”

  Frankie waggled his eyebrows at her, and Amelia rolled her eyes. “Oh, so I have something to tell you, too,” Frankie said with a grin. “Jake kissed me.”

  “Really?” Amelia squealed. “How was it?”

  “Hot,” Frankie said matter-of-factly. “Super fucking hot.”

  “How did it happen?” she pressed.

  “We were studying, and he got really nervous, and I was just sort of watching him, and he got his nerves up and leaned in a little, and I leaned in a little, and he kissed me. I honestly wasn’t expecting him to go through with it. He’s still so… uncertain. But it was amazing. We kissed for a minute, and then he stopped and said he had to go.”

  “So he just left?” Amelia asked, confused.

  “Well, yeah,” Frankie admitted. “But it didn’t feel weird. I don’t know. I think he just needs to process what happened. I haven’t texted him. I’m trying to give him some space to sort things out.”

  “Wow,” Amelia nodded. “Well, I hope it all goes well for you. That’s so exciting.”

  Frankie nodded. “I really like him. Although it’s sort of terrifying. I feel like at any minute, he could bolt and leave me in the dust, you know?”

  “I know what you mean,” Amelia sighed. “Exactly.”

  As Amelia entered the Wordsworth seminar the following Thursday, she felt a mixture of excitement and dread at the prospect of seeing Theodore. Professor Bell, she reminded herself. In class, he was Professor Bell. Class had been out on Tuesday for a holiday, and Amelia hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. He had texted her the night before and said they needed to talk—to actually talk, this time, he had emphasized. He asked her to call him.

  But Amelia felt uneasy as she contemplated this, incapable of discussing the situation just yet. She was afraid he’d shower her with cold words and leave her shivering in the reality of their situation. Until they actually spoke, she could cling to their night together.

  Theodore looked up when she entered the room. His face was full of energy, as if he was happy and surprised to see her. She gave him a little smile and looked at the ground as she walked to her seat at the end of the table. Amelia noticed that he didn’t call on her as often as usual during class, and she guessed he was trying very hard to act natural, over-compensating for their private affair.

  As the students filed out after class, she lingered in the room. Her stomach felt as if she had eaten a jar of bugs that were crawling around inside her. Her hands trembled as she looked up at him. When she did, he was watching her.

  Theodore leaned his head into the hallway to check that they were alone. Once he was assured of their privacy, he stepped towards her. Amelia’s instinct was to take a step back, to keep some distance between them lest they fall victim to their desires. This was too risky, especially in his classroom.

  As he approached her, she smelled the scent of his aftershave and felt her knees tremble. He smelled as he had the nig
ht he came over, the same scent she had breathed in so deeply with her lips on his neck, her legs wrapped around him while he moved inside her. She bit her lip and looked up at him, conflicted.

  “Amelia,” he said softly, reaching out for her but stopping himself. “We need to talk. We can’t just pretend this didn’t happen. Why didn’t you return my texts?”

  “I didn’t know what to say,” she lied. There was plenty to say, but she didn’t want to admit that what pressed on her most was the possibility that she could be pregnant. Soon she’d be able to take a test and know for sure. She’d pick one up tomorrow, just to be safe. Until then, all she could do was deal with the distracting possibility of what might be.

  “Can I come over?” he asked hopefully. “To your place? There are things I want to say. There are things we need to figure out.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she replied. “I mean, last time you came over it was to talk, too. And look how that turned out.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. Are we… are we okay?”

  Amelia stared at the ground. “Yes,” she said finally.

  “So when can we talk?” Theodore pressed. “Tonight?”

  “I’m working,” she answered. “I don’t think you should come over. You can come to the coffee shop. We close at eight. Come a few minutes before then, okay?”

  “Okay,” he nodded.

  “See you then,” she mumbled, picking up her bag and hurrying out the door.

  12

  When Theodore arrived at the coffee shop, he was surprised by the number of people still there, typing on their laptops, textbooks spread open across the tables. It was about fifteen minutes until closing time, and he suddenly felt conspicuous as he looked around at the students, some of whom might be in his classes, working diligently on their studies while he loitered, waiting to catch a moment with Amelia.