Page 1 of The Roommate Experiment

1

HUNTER

There are exactly eleven steps between my door and Dylan’s new room; I’ve counted them obsessively since morning as I waited for him to arrive with his boxes.

Ironically, each step represents a year I’ve known him, a year of stolen glances, hidden smiles, and unspoken feelings. Eleven years since the summer after freshman year when I went to visit my best friend Nina at her parents’ house and met her impossibly tall, impossibly handsome brother for the first time.

He was sunbathing by the pool. A hint of a smirk on his lips, eyes closed under dark sunglasses, one arm lazily draped behind his head as he soaked in the warmth.

I nearly tripped over when Nina introduced us, my tongue suddenly tied in knots as I gazed up (and up, and up) into those mesmerizing blue-green eyes. Dylan smiled, and the world tilted on its axis.

From that moment on, he’s had my heart in a headlock. My entire stay at Nina’s became a secret study of him. I’d watch him toss Nina into the water, his abs rippling as he laughed, and imagined what it would feel like to be in his arms. I even resented it was never me being thrown into the pool.

After that first year, summer visits turned into regular hang-outs when my college roommates and I all moved to New York after graduation, where Dylan already lived. Recently, since Nina and Dylan’s best friend, Tristan, started dating, we’ve been seeing a lot more of each other. And now, we’re living together.

The physical distance between us has been narrowing and shrinking, but I suspect Dylan still sees me only as his baby sister’s friend. I’m not even sure I can call it being friend-zoned. I’m a step lower. Friend zoneadjacent. An accessory friend, the friend of a friend you’re used to having around but don’t really consideryourfriend.

While for me, he’s been the man I’ve compared every date, every boyfriend to. I’ve memorized every detail of him: the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the little scar on his chin from a childhood skateboarding accident, the freckle behind his left ear that I once noticed when he bent down to tie his shoe. I know his coffee order by heart—large Americano, extra espresso shot with a splash of oat milk. And I can pick out his laugh in a crowded bar from a mile away.

All these details are pieces of him I’ve tucked away, each one a small, treasured artifact stored in a corner of my heart, carefully collected in all the time I’ve known him.

Eleven years. Eleven steps.

It’s ridiculous how much significance I’m assigning to this narrow stretch of hallway. But I can’t stop. Every step between us represents a chance that I’ve never been brave enough to take. But now, with us living under the same roof, maybe things will be different.

I lean against my doorframe, listening to the muffled thuds and rustles coming from Nina’s old bedroom. Dylan is unpacking his stuff. As of two hours ago, we’re officially roommates.

A prickly spike jolts my nervous system as I realize this is the first time we’ve been alone. Unjustified butterflies surge in my belly at the sound of him humming under his breath. I need to get a grip. I can’t be on pins and needles whenever I’m home, waiting for his next movement. Even if every little thing about him is a tiny hook in my heart.

“Hunter? You out there?” Dylan’s voice floats down the hall, and my stomach does a somersault.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I call back, wincing at the slight high-low wobble I don’t control.

I cross the hall, counting each step under my breath again.One, two, three…By the time I reach eleven, I’ve plastered what I hope is a casual smile on my face.

Dylan is standing in the middle of the bedroom, surrounded by boxes and looking unfairly ravishing in a faded T-shirt and jeans. His blond hair is tousled, and there’s a smudge of dust on his cheek that I immediately itch to wipe away.

“Hey, roomie.” He grins, making my knees go weak.

I lean against the doorframe, trying to look nonchalant. “Hey yourself. Need help unpacking?” I should’ve offered to help him get settled right away.

Dylan runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. “Nah, I’ve got it under control.”

“Oh.” A flicker of disappointment tightens in my chest. Of course, he doesn’t need my help. Or want to hang out. He probably just wants the Wi-Fi password.

Before I blurt out it’s PrettyFlyForAWiFi, he adds, “But I was wondering if you have a spare set of keys, or if I should go get one made?”

“Um, didn’t Nina give you hers?”

“No. She was all over Tristan, gushing about moving in together.” Dylan rolls his eyes in an unconscious move; he might’ve openly accepted his best friend and younger sister are dating, but I suspect he still isn’t entirely comfortable with their constant PDAs. “Must’ve slipped her mind.”

“I have Rowena’s old keys. You can use those.” Rowena was my other roommate, who also moved out today to shack up with a dude, but for entirely different reasons from Nina.

Dylan’s face lights up, and the warmth of his smile travels all the way across the room. “Really? That’d be perfect, Hunt. You’re a lifesaver.”

My heart dances a little jig at the praise. I feel like one of those small, over-excitable dogs running in a circle and chasing my tail while yapping eagerly. “I’ll grab them for you.”

“Thank you.”

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