Roommating (Preston's Mill #1)

by Noelle Adams

  “What work stuff? If it’s important, then I should know.”

  “It wasn’t important. I can’t even remember what job it was about.”

  He was brushing it off, exactly as Chris had. Maybe she was ridiculous to be making a big deal about it, but both his response and Chris’s had seemed a little fake to her.

  Something was going on. And neither one of them was telling her what it was.

  For just a moment, she felt exactly as she had at eight years old, staring at her parents’ closed bedroom door, knowing something terrible was happening behind it but not having any way of finding out what it was.

  With a sigh, she let the subject drop and finished her meal, but she got up twenty minutes later feeling even more worried and depressed than she had been earlier.

  Her father used to tell her everything. She had no idea why he wasn’t telling her now—and why he was telling Chris instead.

  She was throwing their trash away and cleaning up the kitchen a little when she noticed the bottom drawer in the hutch was hanging open. She went to close it and saw that it was mostly empty.

  She knew her dad kept a lot of papers and files in the drawer, so she blinked down at the drawer. “Have you been doing some purging?” she asked loudly enough for him to hear in the other room.

  “No. What do you mean?” he called out.

  “This bottom drawer of the hutch.” She stuck her head back into the living room to talk to him. “It’s empty. What happened to all the papers?”

  “Oh.” He looked startled for a minute. “I gave some stuff to Chris to look over.”

  “If they were work related, they should have gone to me.”

  “I know. They weren’t work related. They’re just some ideas I had for…for projects and such that I wanted him to review and give me his opinion on. I wanted his expertise.”

  She relaxed. That made sense. She wouldn’t be any good at giving her father expert advice on projects. And it was fine if he wanted to get Chris’s opinions. She needed to stop overreacting. Just because something felt off, strange, hidden, didn’t mean that it actually was.

  “All right,” she said with a smile. “Do you want some dessert? I can make you some mixed fruit or something.”

  Her father made a face. “You don’t have any ice cream to put it on, do you?”

  ***

  Heather was feeling a little better when she returned to their apartment in Preston’s Mill an hour later.

  Everything was going fine with Chris, and she and her father were still close. Nothing had changed. She wasn’t going to let her lingering issues with her mother ruin her life now that things were going really well.

  Chris’s truck wasn’t in the parking lot when she arrived, so he must have still been working. It was seven-thirty now. Surely he’d be finished up at the job soon.

  She was walking down the hall when Estelle stuck her head out of her apartment. “Good evening, young lady. What’s all the commotion?”

  Heather blinked. “What commotion?” The hall was completely quiet, and there was no one else in sight.

  “I heard commotion earlier. People hurrying up and down the hallway.”

  “Oh. I don’t know. I just got here.” Heather waved, about to continue to her place when she noticed her apartment door was hanging open. She stopped abruptly.

  “Why is your door open?” Estelle demanded, stepping out of her apartment wearing a long red flannel nightgown and her normal pink curlers.

  “I have no idea. Maybe Chris left…” She trailed off. Chris wasn’t even here.

  “Young lady, don’t you dare enter that apartment alone. There might be thieves and rapists waiting for you.”

  Torn between amusement and genuine nerves, Heather gave a little giggle. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Then she raised her voice to call, “Chris? Are you in there?”

  There was no answer.

  Estelle shook her head. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Heather had no idea what the old lady was going to do until she returned carrying a baseball bat and a golf club.

  She handed Heather the golf club. “Now we can go investigate.”

  Choking slightly in response, Heather accepted the club and walked with Estelle down the hall toward her apartment. Or rather, she walked and Estelle kind of stalked her way down, brandishing her bat, as if she were on the hunt for prey.

  “Hello!” Heather called out when they’d gotten to the opened doorway. “Is anyone here? Chris?”

  When nothing but silence greeted them, they walked inside. Heather almost tripped on a cardboard box that was set down in the floor of the entryway.

  Before they could get any farther inside, there was a sound from behind them.

  Both of them whirled around, and Estelle swung her bat.

  Chris managed to catch the bat before it clobbered him. “What’s going on?” he demanded gruffly.

  “Oh, dear,” Estelle gasped. “I’m so sorry, dear boy. I thought you were a criminal.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Chris’s eyes moved over to Heather, who had lowered her golf club. “Everything all right?”

  “The door was opened, and you didn’t seem to be here, so we were just being safe,” Heather explained, a little embarrassed, although they’d been perfectly right to be careful, given the situation. “Where have you been? I didn’t see your truck.”

  “Yeah. Uh…” He trailed off, the strangest expression on his face.

  Then suddenly, Heather remembered something. “Where’s Lucy?”

  Chris was just opening his mouth to reply when another voice sounded from farther down the hall. “I found her! I found her!”

  Heather stepped past Chris and looked down the hall to see Jace striding toward them with Lucy in his arms.

  Making a little sound in her throat, Heather reached out to take her dog as Jace came near. “What on earth happened?” she exclaimed.

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said, rather thickly. “I was carrying in a couple of boxes and left the door opened too long. She got out, and then I couldn’t find her. I even drove around the block just now, looking for her. Where was she?” That last question was directed toward Jace.

  “Down in the laundry room,” he explained, sweating slightly, like he’d been hurrying around, searching for the dog. “She was making up to old Mr. Robinson.”

  Heather’s mind was a tumble, but she managed to work out that there had been a panic about possibly losing her dog but the danger was over now. She cuddled Lucy close to her. “She doesn’t usually run away,” she said. “But sometimes she likes to explore.”

  A few minutes later, they’d properly thanked both Jace and Estelle for their help, and she and Chris were alone in the apartment. She was still cuddling Lucy as she glanced down at the box in the entry hall, which was evidently the reason for the door to have been left open.

  “Are you mad?” Chris asked, still looking hot and hassled. He must have been really nervous about losing Lucy.

  For good reason. Heather would have been incredibly upset.

  “No. Not really. She’s usually well-behaved, but she does occasionally take off, so we can just be careful about keeping the door closed unless we’re with her.” She frowned down at the box. “What’s in that, anyway?”

  It looked like papers, and she suddenly realized it must have been the papers in her father’s hutch drawer.

  Chris cleared his throat. “Nothing. I mean, just some old work records your dad wanted me to sort through.”

  Heather’s spine stiffened sharply as she realized what he’d said.

  He’d just lied to her. Right to her face. She knew that wasn’t what was in the boxes. It wasn’t work-related at all. Her father had told her what it was, and for some reason Chris didn’t want her to know.

  So he’d lied. He’d lied.

  “Anyway,” Chris said, turning away as if he once again wanted to change the subject, “I’ve got to go move my truck, since I left it at th
e curb. I’ll be back.”

  She couldn’t say anything in response. She couldn’t speak at all. She was bombarded with wave after wave of confusion and fear and betrayal.

  And she suddenly didn’t care whether she was being reasonable or mature or emotionally healthy. Because she suddenly knew she’d been falling in love with a man who’d just stood there and lied to her.

  She’d been trying to trust him, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t. Which meant there was no reason to assume he’d still be around ten years from now. Or even ten months from now.

  She’d been so incredibly stupid to think that maybe he would.

  She was so upset she was blinded by the emotion, and she would have cried if she hadn’t been so frozen with the devastating revelation.

  She had no idea what to do, what to say to him, what the best choice was for her to do right now.

  All she knew was she had to get away.

  The big decisions she’d have to save until later, but there was at least one small decision she could make right now.

  “Come on, Lucy,” she managed to choke, nuzzling the little dog for comfort. “We’re not going to stay here tonight. Not with someone who lies to us like that. Let’s go spend the night at Dad’s.”

  Fourteen

  “What the hell are you doing?” Chris demanded. He’d been gone all of five minutes, only to come back and find Heather in her room, placing clothes in an overnight bag. She didn’t answer him. Didn’t even bother to look at him. “Is this because I left the door open and Lucy got out?” He cursed as he raked a hand through his hair. “I said I was sorry. It was stupid of me. It’s not gonna happen again.”

  “I know,” she said quietly.

  He moved into her room, and kept moving, until he had Heather moving away from her luggage. “Then what’s going on?”

  “I need some time to think,” she said slowly, carefully enunciating each word. “I…I just need a night away, that’s all.”

  His eyes went wide. “All because Lucy got out? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

  Heather rolled her eyes and went to move past him, but he wouldn’t let her. “This isn’t about Lucy,” she said, suddenly snapping out of her composure and shoving his hands off of her. “This is because I can’t trust you!”

  “So again I have to ask, why?” he asked, his voice growing louder with frustration. “What have I done that has you suddenly feeling like that?”

  She huffed with frustration of her own. “You lied. You stood right there and lied to my face. Just like you lied about what you were talking to my dad about yesterday.” She took a step back and began to pace. “I’ve never hid how I feel, Chris. You know that trust is a big thing for me. I don’t like secrets, and I don’t like being kept in the dark. But most of all, I hate being lied to!”

  He stared hard at her for a solid minute. “Heather…I…”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “I should have stuck with my initial instincts. I knew I couldn’t trust you when you first came back. I knew it, and yet I let myself believe…” Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion.

  He saw her eyes welling with tears, and it gutted him. “Can we please talk about this? You don’t have to leave. This is your home too. Just give me a chance to explain.”

  She vehemently shook her head. “I told you I need a little space for the night. I gave you a chance. Multiple chances and you chose to placate me rather than tell me the truth.”

  Chris had come to know her well enough to know that she was fighting with herself just as much as she was with him. The thing was, he couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep having this same argument with her—fighting with her, trying to prove himself and prove that he wasn’t going to leave. It was exhausting. Which was exactly what he said to her.

  “Oh, it’s exhausting to you?” she mocked. “You think it’s easy living with someone, sleeping with someone who you can’t trust?”

  A low growl came out before he could stop it. “I know it’s not because that’s exactly how I feel!” he shouted, furious that she kept using that phrase to describe him. “I get it that you have issues—I really do. But I’m not your damn mother! I didn’t walk out on you when you were a kid, and I’m tired of having to pay the price for what she did! If you need to deal with that situation, then call her up and get it off your chest, but quit taking it out on me!”

  She gasped, her eyes going wide, but she stayed silent.

  Now it was his turn to pace, almost tripping over Lucy. “I have tried to be patient, but you know what? You would make a saint crazy with your bullshit!”

  Heather went to speak, but Chris immediately shot her down.

  “No. You’ve had plenty to say about me, and I think it’s only fair that I get to have my say.” He paused and waited for her to argue, but she didn’t. She sure as hell glared at him, though. “I don’t know what else I can possibly do to please you. It’s impossible!”

  “You can start by not lying…”

  He glared at her. Hard. But more than anything, he was torn. He could easily sit here and tell her what she wanted to hear, but it wasn’t his place, and to be honest, it pissed him off to no end that they were even having this discussion. Either she trusted him or she didn’t.

  And clearly, she didn’t.

  No matter what he did.

  “You know what? You’re not the only one with issues, Heather. You look at my leaving Preston three years ago like it was something I did to you. Did you ever bother to look at it from my point of view? Did you even think for just one minute of what I was going through and why I left?” He shook his head. “Of course not. That would mean depriving you of the chance to play the victim. Which you have made a fine art of.”

  “How dare you!” she cried.

  “No, how dare you!” he snapped. “Not everything is about you! It wasn’t three years ago, it wasn’t yesterday or today, and it certainly wasn’t when you were a kid and your mom left!” And then all the fight left him at the look of utter devastation on her face. He cursed under his breath. “You know what? Screw it. You want an out? You got it. I’m done. I guess you were right about one thing. I can’t be trusted to stay. I’m outta here.”

  And then he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  Chris stood there for a minute and tried to calm down, and he almost had, when he heard a small sound.

  It was Lucy, crying on the other side of the door.

  ***

  “Uh-oh…”

  “Mind if I come in?” Chris asked.

  Jace stepped aside and motioned for Chris to come in. “She was pissed about the dog, huh?”

  For the next ten minutes, Chris reiterated everything that had happened while pacing back and forth in Jace’s apartment.

  “Okay, so I have to ask,” Jace began, “why did you leave three years ago?”

  Chris shrugged and sat down on the sofa. “It was all too much. I’d lived here my whole life with my mother. She was the only family I had. And I sat here and had to watch her die. Every day for a year, I watched her get weaker and weaker—watched the cancer slowly eat away at her body. When she was gone…I was lost. I didn’t know how to live here without her, while at the same time, it was too hard to stay here with all the memories.”

  Jace nodded sympathetically. “Damn, Chris. I’m sorry.”

  “I had always wanted to leave Preston. It’s a great town, but I thought I wanted more. I stayed to help my mom. And then she got sick, and I knew I couldn’t leave. After she died, I simply couldn’t stay. I didn’t even think about it. Didn’t talk to anyone about it. I just packed up my shit and went in and saw Tom on my way out of town.”

  “Was he upset with you?”

  Chris shook his head. “I think he was surprised—shocked really—but he understood. He never tried to stop me. If anything, he asked if I needed anything. Other than my mom, Tom’s the closest person to a relative that I’ve ever had.”

  They sat in comp
anionable silence for several minutes.

  “It didn’t take long for me to realize that I’d made a mistake. Preston was home. It just took a little prompting for me to come back.”

  “So what are you going to do?” Jace asked. “It seems to me that this situation with Heather isn’t working out. You can’t keep working together and living together while you’re keeping a secret from her. And to be honest, it was kind of crappy of Tom to put you in that position. All of those positions.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “No, here’s the thing,” Jace quickly interrupted, “you have to decide what it is that you want more—the business or Heather. Because this whole damn situation the way it is now isn’t working for anyone. And if you want to know the truth from a guy who knows a thing or two about dysfunctional relationships, I can tell you that the business part of your relationship is going to just make things worse, unless you can really figure this out.”

  “Shit,” Chris murmured.

  “Exactly. You’ve got work to do on both fronts, and it’s going to be hard to do both at the same time. So which do you want more, the business or the relationship?”

  That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

  Jace got up, grabbed them both a beer and sat back down. Chris could see that he was trying to be respectful and not pressure Chris for an answer, but he also knew that he couldn’t hide out here all night.

  Putting his beer down on the coffee table, Chris pulled out his phone with a murmured, “Excuse me,” to Jace and quickly pulled up Tom’s number.

  “Hey, Chris,” Tom said cheerfully. “What’s going on? A little late for a social call. Everything all right?”

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Tom was silent for a moment before saying, “You’re going to have to be more specific. I’m not sure I know what exactly you’re referring to.”

  “I want out of the business, Tom,” Chris said, the words coming more easily than he imagined they would. “This whole situation…it’s not working. Not for me, and especially not for Heather.”

  “I see.”