Page 46 of Roommate
“You give a lot, and you hope others will do the same. And since you’re above average, they let you down a lot of the time.”
“What, are you my shrink now?” Although that sounds an awful lot like me.
“You can ignore her advice,” Zara says. “I always do.”
The thing is, Audrey is right. A lot of chefs are trying to buy the world’s affection with their cooking. Audrey gives me a knowing little wink and reaches for a piece of salami.
“Where’s mine?” says her husband from the floor.
“Don’t ask me to find your salami in front of all these people, honey.”
There’s a roar of laughter. And then Zara announces that the chili is ready in the kitchen, and all the guys get up fast and hustle into the other room.
“How to get the Shipley men moving in one easy step,” Audrey says. “Roddy, you’ll have to muscle in there and get yourself a bowl. But first, can I have a sip of your margarita? I really miss alcohol.”
“Sure.” I pass her the glass and she takes the world’s tiniest sip.
“That’ll have to hold me another three months.”
My phone makes a noise from my pocket. It’s not a Grindr notification. It’s something far more surprising. A text from Brian.
Where are you, baby? I’ve looked everywhere.
And even though I know better, my heart gives a startled little kick. All I ever wanted was for Brian to love me back. The fact that he’s looking for me might have sent me running back to him, if I didn’t know better. And I do know better, right?
Stop it! I give myself a mental slap. This man canceled your credit cards and froze you out of our bank account.
That’s not how you treat someone you actually love. Not to mention all the shitty things he said when I caught him fucking a groupie in his dressing room. Even then, I was mindful of his status in the closet. I didn’t call him out until he caught me backing out of the driveway just as he finally arrived home.
Don’t be a whiny little bitch about this, he’d said. You don’t own me.
Those aren’t exactly words of love.
Even so, I stare at that text for a long time. I don’t respond.
“Everything okay?” Audrey asks beside me.
“Yeah,” I say, flipping the phone over. “My ex-boyfriend is texting me, though. Nobody let me drunk-text him later, okay?”
“I’ll hold that for you,” Zara says, taking my phone away. “Even better—we’ll give this to your roommate. Catch, Kieran.”
Oh shit. I watch, panicked, while my phone arcs through the air toward the men returning from the kitchen. I can’t afford to replace that if it breaks. But Kieran lifts his hand immediately and the phone lands neatly in his palm.
“Friends don’t let Roddy text his ex-boyfriend,” Zara says. “Keep that till morning.”
All the boys are studying me now, curiosity in their eyes.
Luckily, the hockey game comes back on. Zara sits up straighter and yells, “Power play!” Whatever that means. Kieran tucks my phone into his shirt pocket and looks toward the TV.
All eyes are glued to the hockey, so I get up to make myself a bowl of chili with all the fixings.
Vermont doesn’t quite feel like home yet. But I suppose it could get there one day. The men are hot and the food is good.
It will have to do.
Kieran
I almost never get drunk.
