Page 95 of Tapped By My Roommate
“Something like that,” I said tightly.
“You two can talk after dinner,” Mom said lightly, breaking the tension. “Let’s enjoy the meal.”
I released a breath. As comforting as it was to have Ethan beside me, I didn’t want to drag him into a confrontation with Keith.
“That sounds good,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to bore everyone with the details.”
But suddenly, faced with the conversation to come, I was no longer hungry. I pushed around my food until everyone else finished and Mom said in a too bright voice, “Ethan, I should show you Rhett’s baby photos.”
Ethan perked up. “Oh, that’s too good to pass up.”
“Great,” I muttered so only Ethan could hear. “I’ll get double dose of humiliation then.”
“I’m sure you were adorable,” Ethan said, nudging me. “But I can stay here while you talk if you need the support.”
“No, go have your fun at my expense.” I forced a smile to my face. “I should do this on my own.”
25
RHETT
Keith got up and opened the fridge once everyone else had filed out. I could hear their voices in the next room, along with a few laughs.
“Want a beer?” Keith asked, holding out a bottle of Bud. Not the most discerning choice in drinks, but I could use it tonight.
“Sure,” I said. “What do I owe ya?”
He blinked, thrown for a beat, then snorted. “Yeah, the drink jar was a dick move. I admit it.”
When he’d moved in, he’d put a jar beside the fridge. Anyone who drank one of his beverages had to pay up. It was that kind of thing that had convinced me that Keith was a selfish bastard.
Keith popped the tops on two beer bottles and handed me one. “You gotta understand, when I first moved in here, I hadn’t ever lived with kids before. Hell, I hadn’t even lived with a woman in a lot of years.”
I nodded, not wanting to get bogged down in our history. It wouldn’t do me any favors to argue with Keith when I needed his help. “Water under the bridge, right?”
“I don’t know. Is it?” he asked. “Because hostility still comes off you in waves, kid.”
“I’m not hostile. I just don’t understand you, the way you are…or were. I don’t know. It hardly matters now, right? I don’t live here anymore.”
Keith lifted his bottle taking a long drink. I decided to follow suit. When he lowered the beer, he said, “So, you said you had a car problem.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’ve got a bad alternator, and a few other issues.”
“Tough luck there,” he said.
“I, uh, don’t have the money to pay for all those repairs.” At his expression, I added, “I’m not asking for money.”
He snorted. “Of course not. You never need anything.”
I hesitated, wishing this were easier. Wishing Keith and I weren’t so at odds all the time. “I mean, I do need something…”
He waved a hand. “Go on then.”
It was hard to force the words out. When I’d stalled too long, Keith stood up. My heart sank. He was going to tell me to go to hell.
“Let’s go outside,” he said.
Without further explanation, he walked out the backdoor, leaving me with little choice but to follow. As we made our way around the house, Keith stopped once to coil up a hose left out and another time to check the downspout off the gutters. “Keeps getting clogged,” he said by way of explanation. “Floods the front yard. I’ll have to clean them out soon.”
