Page 2 of The Roommate Experiment

I wave off his thanks. “No problem.”

“No, really. You saved me a trip.” Dylan drops a heavy box and looks out the window at the bright sunlight filtering in. “I wasn’t looking forward to going to a hardware store in this heat.”

I’m making his life easier. That’s good. What else could I do to make him feel at home? “Hey, do you want me to lower the temperature on the air conditioning?”

I try not to stare as Dylan lifts his arms to stretch, his T-shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing strip of skin above his waistband.

“That’d be great.” He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Maybe turn it a couple of degrees lower?”

I nod, trying not to fixate on the way his T-shirt clings to his chest, slightly damp from exertion. “Sure thing.”

I turn and skip down the hallway. In my room, I grab the keys from where I tossed them earlier in one of the desk drawers. I almost expect to find them dusty with cobwebs. My best friends moved out only a few hours ago, but it already seems an eternity.

Rowena’s keychain jingles in my hand as I shuffle-dance into the living room, stopping at the thermostat. I turn the wheel all the way down to sixty-eight degrees and shiver when the vent kicks in, the cool air raising goosebumps on my bare arms. Despite the cold, I smile to myself, imagining cozying up with a blanket on the couch later, Dylan sitting beside me as we watch a movie.

Wishful thinking, I know. Dylan sees me as a friend, nothing more—perhaps something less. But I can’t stop daydreaming about the countless romantic possibilities of cohabitation. Movie nights that turn into cuddling on the couch, cooking dinner and sharing intimate meals, our hands brushing as we do the dishes together, passion taking over, Dylan grabbing me by the waist and bending me over the counter before he?—

I close my eyes against the vision. I need to stay grounded in reality. At the rate I’m building castles in the air, I wouldn’t be surprised if woodland creatures showed up and started cleaning the house while they sang.

I head back to Dylan’s room.

“Here you go.” I toss him the keys.

He catches them effortlessly, his reflexes as quick as ever. Dylan looks at the keychain, a mini ax encased in clear plastic, the same as a fire-emergency tool, and at the writing on the back:

Break Glass in Case of Bad Decisions

He flashes me that heart-stopping grin again, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “Interesting key ring.”

I wince despite myself. “Yeah, Rowena should’ve kept it. I don’t know what’s gotten into her to agree to marry a complete stranger for money while pregnant with her ex’s baby.” Dylan raises both eyebrows and before he can tell me I’m being judgmental, I lift my hands. “I know it’s her decision, but I worry. She’s my best friend.”

Dylan’s expression softens. “Nina’s the same. But, hey, we know who this guy is. If Adrian West tries anything funny, Tristan and I will make sure he regrets it.” His jaw sets into a determined line.

Damn, he’s so hot when he threatens to protect the people he cares about. It’s one thing I admire the most about him—his fierce loyalty to those he loves. And while he doesn’t exactly love me or Rowena, his sister does, and for the transitive property, he feels protective of us, too.

“Well, I hope she won’t regret moving in with the guy.”

Dylan lifts another box, biceps bulging. “It might sound selfish, but I’m glad the roommate re-shuffling worked out despite everything. I couldn’t have handled living with strangers.”

I’m one step below a true friend but one above a total stranger. Yay, me. “Hey, with what you’re paying for both rooms, you could’ve gotten a place of your own.”

Dylan groans dramatically. “Eh, I’ve never lived alone. I’m not sure I would’ve liked it.”

Not a stranger and preferable to total loneliness. At the speed things are progressing, he’ll propose by the end of the week. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you from turning into a crazy cat lady.”

Dylan chuckles, which makes me giggle. We dissolve into laughter, and it feels like it has always been us—playful, effortless, pulsing with…togetherness.

When our chests stop shaking, his gaze holds steady on mine, and I can’t handle it. I look away first. “I’ll let you finish. Call out if you need anything else.”

“Sure thing. Thanks again for the keys.”

I nod and start to walk away, then turn back, pretending a thought just entered my mind and that I haven’t been strategizing this move for days. “Hey, I was thinking of throwing something together for dinner.” My voice pitches only slightly higher than normal. “You want to share?”

Dylan’s face lights up. “Yeah, would love to. Need help cooking?”

I shake my head, pointing at all the unopened boxes littering his floor and thinking of the ones still scattered in the living room. “No, no, you’ve already got your hands full.”

“Okay, thanks.” Dylan tilts his head and studies me for a few electric seconds, giving me the unsettling impression he can see right through me. But then he nods and opens a new box. “I’ll try to get finished fast, then.”

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