Page 32 of Someday You Learn

Parker

“Fuck!” Jolting upright, I blink away the memory of the morning my life changed forever. Shoving the blankets off, I swing my legs out of bed and head straight to the bathroom.

I hate waking up before my body is ready, especially when my heart feels like it’s trying to break out of my ribcage. I haven’t had that dream about Sasha in months, and now my brain decides to conjure it up again?

As I stare at myself in the mirror, the same dread that always accompanies those memories flows through me. And the fact that Cashlynn is moving in today doesn’t help. I’m not ready for this.

It’s been four years since I’ve lived with someone else. Four years of keeping my space exactly how I like it, of keeping my life simple and controlled. Sex is one thing, but living with her will be a whole different level. I blow out a breath, gripping the sink to steady myself. I can’t let her get under my skin, but I already know that’s going to be easier said than done.

After a workout in the garage and a quick shower, I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I’m dropping a K-Cup into the machine just as the doorbell rings.

Bracing myself and mourning my last moments of solitude, I head for the door. I open it to find Cashlynn standing there in a red two-piece workout set that’s practically painted on her skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Fucking hell.

“Good morning, roomie!” she says, way too fucking cheerfully. I’m not a morning person, and the fact that she apparently is might be yet another source of conflict for us.

“Good morning,” I say gruffly. I step aside to let her in, shutting the door with a sigh as she breezes past me.

“Oh my gosh! Your house is beautiful, Parker.” She sets her duffle bag by the door and starts to look around as I stare at her bag on the floor.

“Is this all you brought?”

“No, I have more in my car.” Still taking in everything, her gaze roams over the white kitchen cabinets, the gray countertops, the large center island, and then moves to the living room—black furniture, gray carpet with perfect vacuum lines, and a single vanilla-scented candle on the coffee table in front of the bookshelves flanking the TV. When she’s done assessing my home, she turns back to me and says, “It’s so…clean.”

“I like things clean,” I say, not elaborating further. If you ask my siblings, I’m the type-A, anal-retentive one, but honestly, messes give me anxiety. Therefore, there is very little in my home to make a mess of. The walls are fairly bare, everything is always in its proper place, and I always pick up after myself. I like things a certain way—sue me.

“Well, I will tread carefully, then.” She drags her hand along the island countertop and before stepping closer. “Thank you again, Parker. I know I’m disrupting your life and invading your space, but I want you to know that I’m extremely grateful. I probably sound like a broken record, but I mean it.” She places her hand on my chest, staring up at me with those amber-colored eyes of hers—the same ones I was transfixed by the moment I met her.

“You’re welcome, Cashlynn.” Needing space from her, especially her citrus and vanilla scent, I take a step back and clear my throat. “Let me show you to your room.”

Technically, if we were really engaged, we’d be sharing a room. But, for my own peace of mind, Cashlynn will be sleeping down the hall from me. It’s the only way I’ll survive the next four months. Plus, it’s not like there are fucking cameras in my house to verify our relationship is legitimate.

No. When we’re home, we need to keep our distance.

Yup. That’s rule number four.

When I open the door to the guest room, I instantly feel uneasy. “I don’t have many guests, so sorry that it’s not more homey.”

Cashlynn steps inside, glancing around at the sparse space—a queen bed with fresh sheets, a single nightstand in the corner—and then spins to face me. “It’s fine. I don’t need much.” Then she turns to the window. “And the lighting in here is amazing.” She walks up to the window and stares out at the street with a smile. “Yeah, this is perfect.”

I cross my arms and lean against the doorjamb, studying her. She’s smiling, relaxed, and acting as if her moving into my home is some kind of vacation, not an upheaval of her life. “Are you always this happy?”

She glances at me over her shoulder and arches a brow. “Are you always this grumpy?”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Ha. Okay.” She waves me off with a grin.

“Seriously. How are you so cheery today? We’re wrapped up in this lie for months now, and you’re acting like today’s your birthday or something.”

She ponders her next thought as she stares at me. “Not that you’d understand, but I had an epiphany last night while I was lying on the twin bed in my dad’s guest room.”

“And what was that?”

“For the first time in my life, I don’t have the weight of responsibility resting on my shoulders.” She sighs, but her lips are curved up. “I mean, I know I have to make things happen starting tomorrow, butIget to choose what that will be.” She shakes her head, looking at me. “I’ve never had that kind of freedom before, Parker. And because of you, I get the chance to change the trajectory of my future. So yes, I’m cheerful today. And I’m not going to stop letting you know that I appreciate everything you’re sacrificing for me.”

When she says things like that, it makes me want to unlock the cage I’ve built around my heart and maybe even hand her the key. Let her show me what it might feel like to live freely for a change instead of keeping everything in perfect fucking order like I’ve done since Sasha left.

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