Page 31 of Roommate
Brian is probably relieved, spread-eagle in our old bed, snoring happily right now. Meanwhile, I lie freezing in a car, a few miles from my childhood bedroom. It was my choice to come here. I should have called my parents before I pointed the car north, but I thought it would be harder to say no to me in person.
Not so much, though. My parents are also toasty in a comfortable bed, unburdened by thoughts of me. I’ll bet they forgot about me as soon as my car left their driveway.
I pinch my eyes closed against the unwelcome heat of sudden tears. Men aren’t supposed to cry. It’s part of the bro code. I press my thumb and forefinger into the corners of my eyes and take a deep breath.
A car approaches, the low rumble of an engine accompanied by tires crunching on the gravel parking lot. Twin headlight beams flash, and I forget to breathe as a car door opens and footsteps approach.
Knuckles rap on the front windshield, and my heart crawls into my mouth.
“Hey, Roderick?” says a low voice. “You in there?”
I let out a gasp. Who’s this intruder who knows my name?
“Roderick,” he repeats. “Come on, man. Show me that you’re alive.”
I’m startled to realize that the voice belongs to Kieran Shipley.
“Dude.” He knocks again. “You’re in the back, right? Come on. It’s cold out here.”
“You’re cold?” I sputter, throwing off the sleeping bag. “Don’t let me inconvenience you.”
“Hey.” He tries the door handle, but of course it’s locked. “I wasn’t talking about me. I mean it’s too cold to sleep out here.”
Isn’t this just mortifying? “I’ll be fine. Move along now. There’s nothing to see here.”
I hear a loud thunk, and wonder for a moment if Kieran punched my car. But then I sit up and realize that sound was his forehead hitting the roof. His big farm-boy body has knocked the snow off one window, and is now bent into a defeated posture against my car.
“Get out,” he says. “Come on. Take this address, okay? I have an extra room to rent. And I have enough on my conscience already. If you croak out here, I will lose my shit.”
With a groan, I open the door and climb out, wrapping my stolen sleeping bag around me. “Let me get this straight. You want me to come home with you because it’ll help you sleep better.”
The moonlight reflects off the light carpet of snow. He blinks, his handsome brow wrinkled with tension. “Something like that. But you’ll sleep better, too, right? Win-win.”
“I don’t like owing people. You don’t even like me.”
“Don’t even know you,” he growls in that abrupt way that Kieran says so many things. He squints at me. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“No! Nothing!” I bark, swatting at my face. I must look like I’ve been crying. I have never been more embarrassed than I am right now. “Go home, Kieran. You don’t want me for a roommate. You don’t even want me in the same area code.”
He flinches. “Wasn’t ever about you, though.”
“It never is,” I hiss, because I’m so tired of men who can’t sort out their shit. I was an excellent companion to Brian, who wanted me desperately about half the time and then couldn’t stand the sight of me the other half.
“Look, you should have just told one of us you were sleeping in your car.”
“It’s not your problem,” I argue.
Kieran blinks. “Doesn’t mean we wouldn’t care.”
And now I feel like a heel. “It’s embarrassing, okay? I didn’t plan on leaving Nashville as quickly as I did. And I drove up here hoping to crash at my parents’ place. But they shut the door in my face. It’s not the kind of story that’s fun to tell.”
His big eyebrows furrow. “Why’d they do that?”
“It’s the gay thing.” I make sure to keep eye contact while I say it, because I never let anyone know how much it bothers me. “They’re not into it.”
“Oh.” He sighs. “Parents are the worst.”
“Yeah.” An awkward silence falls between us. I shiver against the snow falling in my face.
