Page 17 of Roommate
I haven’t even been offered the job yet, but I’ve already fallen asleep on it. This is not good.
“Sorry,” I try to say, but it comes out as a croak. I clear my throat and try again. “I was just…” The sentence peters out, because there’s no excuse that I can offer. Sleeping in my car is killing me. I look like death this morning and am now capable of slipping into REM sleep while the muffins bake. It’s unprofessional, and I really hope Kieran doesn’t mention it to Zara and Audrey.
He probably will, though.
Kieran disappears without a word, which is just as well, I guess. Zara will be back any moment. I take out the muffins and set them on a rack to cool. Then I stir up a batch of oatmeal cookies with raisins.
Ten minutes later, as I’m dropping cookie dough onto a tray, Kieran enters the kitchen. He places a mug of steaming coffee on the worktable beside me and disappears before I can say anything.
It’s a pretty helpful gesture considering that Kieran hates me. Every friendly thing I say to him goes wrong somehow, and when we worked the counter together yesterday, it had seemed like I couldn’t stop bumping into him. Maybe he’s just clumsy, but it was probably my fault.
And although he likely brought me the coffee so I wouldn’t burn the place down by accident, I should still thank him.
I don’t get my chance until that afternoon. Zara retreats into the little office to order some supplies. The shop is in a rare lull, the only customers outside on the patio, wearing their coats in the weak October sunshine.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” I ask Kieran.
“Why.” His forehead wrinkles. The dude does not want to talk.
But I plow ahead. “Just thought I’d introduce myself properly, because I hope we’re going to be working together.”
“Nice to meet you,” he grits out.
“Yeah. I can tell you’re thrilled.” I chuckle. “Look, we obviously went to the same high school—”
“It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember.” He shuts me down with a few quick words. Then he swallows hard, betraying his discomfort.
And that’s when I get angry. Can we really not get past my teenage stupidity?
“Yeah, okay,” I say slowly. I cross my arms in front of my chest to show him that his brusque tone doesn’t scare me. Although I have to lift my chin to look him in the eye. He’s probably got four inches on me, as well as bulging biceps that I can’t help but admire. It’s too bad Kieran Shipley wants nothing to do with me, because the man is as hot as he is grumpy.
And now I’m staring.
“I guess I must be thinking of somebody else,” I say so slowly that it sounds like a tease. “Pity, though. Because once upon a time I really enjoyed putting on a show for that other guy. Whoever he was. And I’m pretty sure he enjoyed it, too.”
And then—because self-preservation was never my strong suit—I give him a sleazy wink, turn on my heel, and disappear into the kitchen. But not before I glimpse a flash of red on his face.
I just made him angry. Awesome. I must not want to buy decent food or sleep in a real bed after all.
Nice going, Roddy. You’re fucking everything up again.
But if Kieran Shipley can’t deal with me, maybe this job was never meant to be.
Kieran
Longest. Week. Ever.
Every time I turn around, Roderick is there. I’m in hell, and I’m behaving like a teenage prick. And I feel like one, too. But I cannot have a casual chat about high school with Roderick. Not within earshot of customers or Zara. That’d be like turning my soul inside out.
He’s Mr. Charming, with that easy smile. Hey, about high school… Like that’s an easy conversation.
I’m in knots over it. And every time I catch a glimpse of his smile, I can picture him putting his mouth to other uses. He knows something about me that nobody else suspects—I watched him because I liked it. He knows something about me that I haven’t managed to tell a soul.
Including myself.
When Zara gets off the phone, my torture ends. “You can call it a day, Roddy,” she says.
He has a nickname already? That can’t be good.
