The Roommate (Roommates, #1)

When I woke up, I was sure last night had just been a bad dream. Then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and saw the champagne-colored cocktail dress crumpled on my floor, frowning as memories of last night clawed at the edges of my brain. But the wet nose of a certain little fluff ball nudged me again. Enchilada had to pee.

I steeled myself and tiptoed into the hall. The house was totally quiet. Cannon’s bedroom door was mostly shut, and I rushed past it. I grabbed the leash from the counter, and that’s when I saw it.

A Post-it note was stuck to my coffeemaker, Cannon’s messy handwriting scrawled across the paper.

We need to talk.

Four little words shouldn’t have had the ability to make me break out in hives, but when the reality of last night came crashing back, I had to grip the counter for support. I had actually seriously propositioned Cannon for sex. This was the reality I had to deal with now. Hanging my head in my hands, I inhaled deeply.

If I could stay in my room and hide all day, I would. But then Enchilada let out another whimper.

“Okay. Come on, buddy.” I grabbed his leash and slipped my feet into my shoes, and then Enchilada and I were safely outside without making a scene.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we crossed the street to our customary patch of grass . . . and that was when I noticed that Cannon’s car was gone. The sinking feeling in my stomach quickly bloomed into full-on panic.

Oh God, had I driven him away with my insane suggestion last night? Maybe he’d gone straight to Allie this morning, told her he was no longer comfortable staying here. I had sexually harassed her baby brother. Holy shit, she was never going to talk to me ever again. I stared at the distant Huron River as Enchilada did his business, and fantasized about throwing myself in.

When Enchilada finished, I gathered him into my arms, holding him tight to my chest as I dashed back inside. The door to Cannon’s room had been left ajar, and I nudged it open a few inches further to peek inside. The futon was back into its couch position, and the blankets were folded on top of the desk. His duffel bag and a couple of shopping bags were in the corner. So his stuff was still here, but I wasn’t the least bit comforted.

His note was clear and to the point-but what the hell was I going to say to him?

Sure I’d made a colossal mistake last night, I busied myself making coffee and breakfast. Then I took a shower, as if going through the motions of shampooing, shaving, and blow-drying would make everything better.

I couldn’t wait for this weekend to be over. I’d never wanted it to be Monday morning so badly before in my entire life. I thought if I could disappear into the office, I could lose myself in my weekly routines and obligations, then everything would go back to normal.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I heard a large truck pull up outside and stop, its engine idling. Then there was a knock on the door.

A man wearing a name badge that read Hank smiled at me and held out a clipboard. “Morning, ma’am. If you’ll sign right here.”

I took the pen and looked down at the page in front of me. “What’s this for?”

Hank tapped the page again. “It’s an acknowledgment of pickup and delivery.”

Two more men bustled past me into the house and into Cannon’s bedroom. What the hell is going on? They came out carrying the futon.

My stomach churned. Oh fuck, he was really moving out. This was it . . . and it would only be a matter of time before Allie cut me out of her life forever. My heart threatened to stop beating.

My phone rang and I grabbed it from the counter, answering without bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Paige. It’s Cannon.”

I’d never been so mortified in my entire life. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The need to right this situation before it spiraled even further out of control flared up inside me.

“I am so sorry about last night. I never meant to make you feel awkward.” I released a slow, shaky breath, waiting for him to say something.

“So you don’t want to fuck me?”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I flinched at his words. Physically, of course I did. But it wasn’t worth the emotional turmoil that came with it. Even now, deep in emotional turmoil, my body still reacted to him. But he clearly didn’t want that. He was repulsed, in fact. God, I was such a fucking idiot.

My voice quivered as I tried to salvage whatever personal pride I could. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to cause any issues. I don’t want you to think you have to move out.”

“Move out?” His tone was unsure. “Who said anything about moving out?”

“There are men here removing the futon from your bedroom.” Crossing the room to the front window, I peeked out. They had a huge white mattress wrapped in plastic and were hauling it from the back of the truck.

“What? Crap, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Let me start over. I got called into the hospital on short notice and forgot to tell you I’m having a bed delivered today. I couldn’t sleep on that futon anymore. But they weren’t supposed to take the damn thing. It’s yours.”

The men squeezed the mattress through the door and headed for Cannon’s room. Suddenly everything made sense. Cannon wasn’t mad. He wasn’t leaving. In fact, he was making himself more at home.

“Paige? You there?”

“I’m here,” I said after a few moments of silence. “Don’t worry about the futon. It wouldn’t have fit with the bed in there, anyway.”

“Are you okay?” he asked. “If you changed your mind about us . . .”

“Did you?” I asked, my heart resuming its gallop for very different reasons than before.

The delivery crew marched past with the bed frame while I waited for Cannon to answer.

“I’ve been hard since last night thinking about it. I’ve wanted you for ten years, Paige.”

His admission sent a fresh wave of desire rushing through me. “I didn’t change my mind.” My voice was uncharacteristically soft.

“I’ll be home at seven thirty,” he said.

“Dinner?” I asked.

“I take my break at five, and I usually eat then.”

“Okay. Seven thirty,” I repeated. I’d probably be too nervous to eat anyhow. “I’ll see you then.”

Once I’d closed the door behind the delivery crew, I wandered back to Cannon’s bedroom, feeling almost dazed. The huge king-sized bed took up most of the room, an imposing and ominous sign.

Am I really going to go through with this?