Page 45 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

She squeezes my hand under the table. It says,Let go.I squeeze back.Not a chance.

We both flash each other a soft, smitten smile so the table believes our once-in-a-lifetime romance, but under the table ourhands are warring. Goodness, she makes me want to laugh. And kiss her.

When I first spotted Jessie across the room tonight, my stomach dove into a free fall. She looked so classic and feminine andcurvy,and my heart was beating out of my chest for her. It hasn’t stopped since. I would have kissed her in the bathroom if that knock on the door hadn’t interrupted us. I wanted to more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Even now, I look over into Jessie’s forest-green eyes as they sparkle from the warm lighting, and I feel like groaning. I can hardly take it. I want to scoop her and her mischievous smile up and take her home.

The table continues to buzz with medical talk like it has been ever since we sat down, and I’m hoping once our dinner arrives everyone will give the constant jargon a rest. That’s the major flaw of doctors all grouped together for social events: we can’t talk about anything besides medicine. It’s how we’re hardwired. So many years devoted to nothing but studying and learning and memorizing as much as possible will do that to a person. Back in school, when everyone else was partying and socializing, our noses were deep in a textbook. The most social contact we had was a study group, which is basically what this is now. An ultra-elegant study group.

I know Jessie has to be bored to death. Maybe if the conversation were more interesting, she’d be less determined to pinch her way out of my hand. Her fingers are like a little crab scurrying across the sand.

“Dr. Marshall, I’ve been meaning to ask you—what happened to your eye?” Susan asks from across the table. Of course Susan would notice it. It’s more of a slight greenish shadowy bruise now than it was a week and a half ago when Jessie gave it to me. For some reason, I’ve loved this black eye. I love that Jessie gave it to me. I love that when I look in the mirror, I remember the sheen of terror in her green eyes when she thought she’d reallyhurt me. It was the first time she had ever looked at me without a mask of indifference or hatred.

Jessie lights up at this question. She gives an overindulgent smile, flashes her eyes wide in excitement, and props her elbow on the table with her fist under her chin like someone’s just told her I’m about to jump on the table and give everyone a striptease.

Too bad for Jessie, if she plans to take me down, I’m dragging her with me.

I lean forward, a conspiratorial grin in place, and tilt my head toward her. “I try not to kiss and tell, but truth is, this one got a little overeager in the—” My sentence is cut off when Jessie’s foot collides with my shin and she shoots me a dark look.

“Kitchen,” she finishes for me, not breaking eye contact. “I opened a cabinet right into his face by accident.” Something in her gaze promises her statement will come to fruition if I continue, but it won’t be by accident.

Everyone hums their understanding, but it’s clear they don’t believe her. My seed was planted, and her face is turning into boiling lava. I feel triumphant. Smiling, I lean toward Jessie to . . . to what? I don’t know exactly. All I’m conscious of is my need to get closer to her. To run my finger over her blushing cheek. To kiss her. To hold her. Her narrowed eyes soften and her lips part slightly. We’re trapped in this moment together, and everything I’m feeling she’s feeling too. If I could just lean a little—

A hand claps against my back.Of course.“Drew? Ah—I thought that might be you!”

I’m ready to murder whoever just interrupted this moment between us when I look up into the eyes of my old mentor of sorts from med school. Despite him being a teaching physician at the time, Richard was one of my first friends in the medical world, and he’s likely the only person who can escape mymurderous intentions in this circumstance. Once I had decided to focus on obstetrics and gynecology, he was the one I went to with my concerns about being a young male in the profession, afraid I’d never get any patients. He laughed and told me he would only let me soak his shoulder with tears once I tried being a gay black man in the medical field, or a woman in the same profession having to work twice as hard to prove herself just as capable as a man. I liked him immediately. Dr. Green taught me the best thing I could ever do as a male ob-gyn was shut my mouth and listen to the women around me. I’m good at applying this principle in my practice, though not always so much in my personal life.

“Dr. Green, it’s good to see you,” I say, standing to shake his and Mr. Green’s hands. “And Henry,” I say, addressing Richard’s husband. “How are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you two since Dr. Green’s retirement party.” It’s when I look down at our clasped hands that I realize how red mine is thanks to my little pincher crab. I slide my gaze over to Jessie and see her sitting demurely, hands resting in her lap like a patient angel, but I know she’s seen the pinch marks because her lips are pressed together, holding back a fierce laugh.

If Henry notices the odd red splotches, he ignores them with grace. “I don’t feel like we seeanyonesince Richard retired.” He tosses him a reprimanding look. “I’ve been begging him to come out of retirement just so we can go places again. He compromised by letting us come tonight.”

Richard laughs and guides Henry around the table to take the two available seats closest to me and Jessie. He pulls a chair out for Henry, making me wonder belatedly if I did that for Jessie. Richard looks at Henry with narrowed eyes after they’ve taken their seats.

“And force you to miss me again during all of those long work days? Never.”

Henry looks to Jessie and me with extra-wide eyes and a mocking smile. “So considerate of him.”

We all laugh, and then, trying to be discreet, I cut my eyes to Jessie, hoping she won’t look bored. Because for some reason, I want her to enjoy being here with me—meeting my colleagues and the people who were so integral in the early years of my career. When my eyes land on her, my heart jolts. Her head is tilted softly to the side, and her green eyes are sparkling with a genuine smile. She lookshappy.

I don’t realize I have fully turned my face to openly stare at Jessie for goodness knows how long until Henry’s voice shocks me into reality.

“Drew, who is this beautiful young woman you’re so fondly gazing at?” he asks, a note of mischief in his eye, like he was excited to call me out in front of everyone.

Without a second thought, I raise my arm to lay it over the back of Jessie’s chair and run my thumb against the side of her shoulder. I notice her look down to where I’m tracing a lazy pattern against her skin, and I could swear her skin flushes.See, I can do affection.

Jessie looks up at me quickly, and her eyes search my face like she wants to see for herself the look Henry was referring to. Except, she doesn’t look happy about it at all. Am I imagining it, or does she tuck her shoulder in so I can’t brush my fingers against it anymore?

“This is . . . my girlfriend, Jessica Barnes. Jessie, this is Dr. Richard Green and his husband, Henry. Dr. Green was my mentor in medical school.”

Jessie’s gorgeous, full lips tip into a soft smile, and that’s that. She welcomes them into her friend group with an ease she never gave me, and I have to try very hard not to be jealous. But I am. I’m jealous and wondering what I needed to do from the beginning to get the same sweet treatment as Richard andHenry. Maybe if that day when she showed up ready to fight me on Lucy’s behalf I had just kissed her then and there, we could have avoided all this unpleasant dueling.

But even as I think of all that “unpleasant dueling,” I’m smiling, because truthfully, I needed it. I haven’t realized until this moment how weary I had become of my constant need to remain professional and put together. Even in my family, I’m the one who solves problems, the responsible one, the guy who’s always ready to help when they need me. And don’t get me wrong, I love being that guy. It suits me well, but sometimes I just need a break from it. There’s never been any other force in my life to show me there’s a different way or what I’m missing . . . until Jessie. After living, fighting, and playing with her, I realize just how deprived I’ve been of pointless joy. Laughter for the hell of it. Smiling just because I feel like it. It’s been good, and I don’t want it to end.

As fast friends, Richard, Henry, and Jessie all make a pact to call each other by their first names, and Henry wastes no time scooting his chair a little closer to Jessie and diving into a long series of get-to-know-you questions. Richard and I head over to the open bar to bring drinks back to the table and spend the next twenty minutes catching up. I try to stay focused on the conversation, but Henry keeps laughing at things Jessie says and I can’t help but glance over frequently. Jessie’s dimpled smile kicks me in the stomach each time I see it, and I wish I could lean over and kiss it. I realize how much more enjoyable these events would be if she always came with me. Jessie even manages to get the rest of the table to ditch their professional medical talk as she animatedly tells a story about when she accidentally cut off the tip of someone’s ear in hair school and then convinced one of the EMTs and the poor guy missing part of his body to let her come into the ambulance and help bandage it up. She walked awayfrom the incident withbothof those guys’ numbers. Only Jessie could manage something like that.

When I hear Henry ask Jessie if she knows the sex of her baby yet, I find myself leaning in a little closer. I’ve never heard her mention a pronoun when referring to the baby—in fact, she doesn’t mention the baby much at all. The whole thing feels very mysterious, but I’ve been too much of a coward to ask her about it.

“I don’t. I’m going to let it be a surprise.”

Henryawwws and says it’s the last true surprise you can have in life, and I doubt he even picks up on the tension in Jessie’s shoulders. I do, though. I’ve started picking up on Jessie’s little cues, and I can spot them from across the room now. I also know she has five different smiles: 1) polite, 2) go jump off a bridge, 3) genuine, 4) sultry, and 5) uncomfortable.

---