Page 46 of The Roommate Experiment

The walls are a muted beige, dotted with faded family photos, and shelves filled with board games that, thanks to my mom’s obsessive tidying, don’t have a flake of dust on them. Behind the meticulously organized boxes of holiday decorations and extra toiletries, cleaning supplies, light bulbs, and other household essentials hides Dad’s not-so-secret stash of junk food. A large, industrial dehumidifier hums in the corner, valiantly chugging to combat the inherent dampness.

Hunter and I stand on opposite sides of the bed, an awkward tension hanging between us. She’s wearing a scant pair of pink cotton shorts and a white tank top. My mouth goes dry as I take her in. The PJ bottoms hug her hips and thighs, leaving her legs almost completely bare. And the thin tank top clings to her curves, hinting at the lacy pink bra underneath. It’s a small mercy that she kept her bra on, but not much of one. The delicate straps peeking out from under the tank top tease me, drawing my eyes to her smooth shoulders.

I try my best not to stare, but it’s a losing battle. My gaze travels down her slender arms to her navel, where, under the thin fabric, the outline of that damned belly button stud is unmistakable.

“You’re stuck with me again,” I joke to ease the strange tension.

Hunter’s darker-than-night eyes meet mine, inscrutable and alluring. After a long moment, the corners of her full lips twitch. “Could be worse,” she says as a shadow of something unreadable swirls in her dark gaze, setting my pulse racing.

I chuckle nervously and rub the back of my neck. “Wow, being classified as ‘not the worst’ is doing wonders for my ego.”

Hunter rolls her eyes, but her smile grows. “Don’t let it go to your head, Thompson.”

She climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight, and the old springs squeaking in protest. I join her, causing even more creaks. Every slight movement elicits a symphony of metallic whines, making it impossible to shift without announcing it to the entire house.

I experimentally wiggle my hips, and the bed lets out a loud groan.

Hunter’s eyes go wide, and she covers her face with both hands, laughing. “Dylan, stop.” She peeks at me through her fingers. “If anyone’s upstairs, they’re going to think we’re… you know.” Her voice trails off, her cheeks blooming with color as she drops her hands, looking both mortified and amused.

A slow grin spreads across my face and, instead of heeding her warning, I bounce rhythmically, making the springs protest even louder. “That we’re testing the structural integrity of this fine piece of furniture?”

The sound is comically obscene, like a cheesy soundtrack from a low-budget porno.

Hunter buries her face into the pillow, her long hair flopping down to hide her burning cheeks.

“Stop.” She sounds mortified but her shoulders are shaking with the effort to contain her laughter.

I do a few more bounces and settle. In the quiet, Hunter lifts half her face, one eye spying me. Her hair is still falling across it, and I’m once again hit with the powerful urge to tuck those silky strands behind her ear, to tip her chin up and taste her smiling lips…

No. Nope. I can’t think like that. Even if the relationship has run its course, I’m still technically with Olivia. I might’ve decided to break it off with her, but until I do it, I won’t cross that line. I’m not that kind of guy. And I’m not even positive Hunter would want me to. That she shares even a fraction of the restlessness I can’t escape since moving in with her. She’s probably more sensible than me and has “dating your roommate” double-underlined in red in her not-to-do list. As should I.

“Alright, alright, I’ll behave.”

I flop back against the pillows with an exaggerated sigh—and the couch promptly protests again.

We both start laughing, causing even more squeaks. Gradually, our laughter fades into a comfortable silence, and we settle down to get some sleep. I flip off the lights, plunging the basement into thick darkness punctuated only by the faint moonlight glow filtering in through the narrow hopper windows. The shadows turn the room smaller, more intimate.

I want so badly to tell Hunter about my decision to end things with Olivia—test how she’d react. But I bite my tongue. It wouldn’t be right, not yet. First, I need to have that difficult conversation with Liv.

Until then, I’ll have to content myself with stolen glances at the stunning woman lying next to me, close enough to touch but still maddeningly off-limits. I know this weekend is going to be sweet torture, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Because when I’m with Hunter, everything feels… right. Like this is where I’m meant to be.

Even if, for now, “right” means platonically sharing the world’s squeakiest sofa bed. A closeness that borders on agony.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to ignore the heat radiating off Hunter’s skin, the subtle scent of her shampoo wafting over to me.

“Night, Thompson,” she murmurs, her voice already thick with impending sleep.

“Night, Brolin.” The words catch in my throat.

I never knew how much effort it took to keep still. Beside me, Hunter vibrates with the same effort. After a while, I dare to turn my head and peek at her. The moon filtering through the windows casts everything in a silvery glow, including the planes of Hunter’s face. She looks ethereal, too beautiful to be real. But she’s not sleeping either; her posture is too rigid. I swallow hard and force myself to look away.

Minutes tick by, but sleep remains elusive. The basement is stifling, the air heavy despite the dehumidifier. We don’t have air conditioning down here, and while the temperature is several degrees lower than the main house, the natural cooling is not enough to fend off the oppressive July heat. I toss and turn to find a cool spot on the sheets. Beside me, Hunter does the same, our movements making the springs creak in protest.

“Sorry,” she whispers, sounding more amused than contrite.

I chuckle. “If this bed had a voice, I bet it’d be saying, ‘Can you two take this somewhere else?’”

“Like the floor? I could take it up on that offer.”

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