Page 3 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

“Crying is for suckers.” My voice is cracking and wobbling because of my rude pregnancy.

“Oh, hon,” Lucy says, with nothing but fondness in her tone.

“What?” I ask, going to the bathroom to rip off a piece of toilet paper and blot my eyes before my mascara has a chance to run.

I don’t know what comes over me these days. One minute I’m completely fine, and the next I’m watching an erectile dysfunction commercial and weeping because it’s so freaking sweet that that couple holds hands while soaking in their side-by-side bathtubs! And don’t even get me started on the dog food commercials full of puppies.

“Only two more months,” she says, knowing how completely over pregnancy I am. She knows it because I text it to her first thing every single morning. Combine that with my hatred of her brother, and it’s really a miracle she hasn’t blocked me from her life yet. A terrible thought hits me: Maybe she’s only my friend because I’m her boss? I’m the owner of Honeysuckle Salon, where Lucy works, but surely she’s not friends with me for that reason . . .Gah,now I’m crying more. This is ridiculous. Drew! I need to keep thinking about Drew so I can channel all my emotions toward hatred instead of weeping.

“It still feels so far away,” I say, unsuccessfully pushing away my emotions. “Two months might as well be an eternity as long as I have insomnia and this baby continues to kick me in the ribs.”

“He’ll be out soon enough.”

“He?” I ask, like maybe Lucy performed a secret ultrasound I don’t know about and determined the sex of my baby before I did.

“Or she.”

“But you saidhefirst. Do you think it’s a boy?” I could end this guessing game by just asking my doctor, but I’m not ready to know yet.

Lucy doesn’t get a chance to answer that question. “Oh, it’s him! Drew is beeping in on the other line. I’ll call you back with what he says.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Do you at least want me to have him call you?”

“Nope,” I say, closing the toilet seat lid and sitting down. “He wouldn’t get through because I already blocked his number. Well, I blocked it after sending him a lovely little message I’m sure he enjoyed.” It was cathartic, and I don’t regret it no matter how disappointed in me Lucy will be.

She sighs deeply. Poor thing is weary to her bones of all this fighting. “Okay, well, I’ll call you back in a few minutes andnottell you what he says.” She’ll tell me. Lucy can’t keep things to herself. It’s physically impossible for her.

“Okay. Hey, Luce? You’re beautiful and I love you!”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs before saying she loves me back, because Lucy is so sweet that she’s incapable of not returning affection, and then she hangs up.

I let my shoulders slump and stare at the plain blue wall in front of me, anxious to not allow the feeling of loneliness to creep up on me too close. Then a loud boom followed by a hissing noise under the sink makes me jump out of my skin. I rush to the vanity and drop down to my knees, and before really thinking about it I fling open the cabinets.Water.Water sprays from under the sink like an open fire hydrant, soaking my face, body, and bathroom in a harsh, stinging deluge.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

CHAPTER 2

Drew

THREE HOURS EARLIER

I’m dead.

I am a walking zombie after the night from hell. I’m not sure if there was a full moon or what, but three of my patients all went into labor around the same time yesterday. One ended in an emergency C-section around twoA.M., and the other two (God bless them) labored naturally for close to twenty hours total. I have practically been living at either my clinic or the hospital for the past thirty-something hours because I didn’t want to be too far away from my patient who was experiencing complications, but now that the storm is over, all I want to do is go home, shower, and pass out for maybe the rest of my life.

Even just trying to get down the main hallway of the hospital feels like I’m walking through a warped room in Willy Wonka’s factory. Everything is tunneling and the lights feel strange, like I’m floating but also dragging. I’ve worked a lot of long hours over the last few years, but this stretch feels like the hardest yet. Normally, I can rest for at least an hour or two in one of the on-call rooms even when I’m needed at the hospital for extended stretches. But not this time. It was one freak situation after another, and I was a human bouncy ball, pinging all over the place.

When I pass a vending machine, I realize I haven’t eaten in . . . well, I have no idea how long. I barely know what day it is now. My stomach grabs me by the collar of my scrubs and screams at me to feed it. I’m tempted to flatten myself against the glass and nap for one tiny minute before the protein bar drops. I don’t get the chance, though.

“Hi, Dr. Marshall!” A nurse named Shannon pops up beside the vending machine, ponytail perky, fresh-faced for her shift. Since I feel like death warmed over, her exuberance for the morning makes me want to grimace. “I heard about that emergency C-section you did earlier for the twins—uh-mazing! I wish I could have been here to see it.”

I lean down and shove my hand into the slot, the flap thing scraping against my knuckles as I pull the protein bar out, and I wonder why they haven’t discovered a better way of making these things yet.

“Yeah. It went well. Thanks.” I try to smile, but it doesn’t work. My brain is no longer sending signals to my face, apparently.Must. Get. Home.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and start unwrapping the protein bar while walking toward the doors. Shannon falls into step beside me, and I find it odd. We’ve never talked outside of dealing with a patient or exchanging pleasantries.

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