Page 13 of Roommating

I realize I’ve been staring and rub the back of my neck. “Just give me a shout when you’re done.”

I return to my room and flop back on the bed, awash with need to be touched by someone other than myself. My relationship history consists of two steady boyfriends, one in high school and the other in college. Both ended mutually and amicably at graduation. Since then, I’ve only had a handful of first dates and hookups, the most recent with a guy I met at a Halloween party four months ago. He was dressed up as Sherlock Holmes and I was Nancy Drew. With tequila-induced optimism, I’d hoped we’d bond over iconic detectives in literature. The only mystery we solved together was just how awkward the morning after a drunken hookup can be…excruciatingly. When I left his place in the morning, he called me Serena and wished me the best of luck in my nursing program. I’m in no hurry to do that again, but I’m also in no rush to settle down with boyfriend number three. Which leaves me a horny single girl living with a delectable and extremely well-built, book-loving, age-appropriate man… who happens to be my roommate’s grandson.

Other than my inconvenient crush, it’s been an easy transition so far. The modest apartment is more crowded now and I’m not fully comfortable with the new dynamic yet, but I have no complaints about Adam. He doesn’t leave the television on too loud after I’ve gone to sleep at night, and I don’t feel like I’m not allowed in the living room during the day. I try to be equally considerate by blow-drying my hair in my room with the door closed and not banging around in the kitchen when I make my coffee in the morning. Rocket, who must be asleep on Marcia’s bed now, has one morehuman who worships him, and it’s mutual. And Marcia is still in heaven enjoying her renewed relationship with Adam.

I try to give them space to bond one-on-one. I’m not home much anyway during the day, so it’s only in the evenings when we’re all together—except for one night when I went out with Carley, a couple where he was out, probably exploring, and one when the two of them went out to dinner without me. I don’t feel like a third wheel too much, but when I do, I remind myself that Marcia missed out on so much of Adam’s life when he was a teenager. She deserves this quality time with him now.

Adam calls out, “All yours!”

I quickly undress, putting on my rarely used soft pink bathrobe to guard against another encounter, this time withmehalf naked, and head back to the bathroom.

Adam’s sitting on the now-closed couch but looks up from his phone when I exit my room. He looks up at me. “I hope I didn’t make you late. Next time I get up early, I’ll check with you first.”

I wave him off. “I’m not too behind schedule yet, so it’s fine.” Since he’s now fully dressed in dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt, I can make eye contact without fear of bursting into flames. I take a closer look at his shirt and do a double take. In the center is a black-and-white screen-printed image of a woman with the namePattiin script underneath. “Is that Patti Smith?”

Adam’s lips curl up on the sides. “Yup.”

“Are you wearing it for my benefit?”

“Yup.” He laughs.

I shake my head. “Don’t forget to get me that list.” Adam surprised me by actually following up on my proposed young adult book club, so I asked for the titles of some of the adult books he’s read and enjoyed lately to try to get a sense of his taste.

“Will do.” His gaze drops to my chest and back up quickly, a flush now painting his cheeks.

I look down at the exposed skin on my chest where my robe is just barely hiding my tits. I quickly pull the corners tighter against my body. “I should…” I swallow. “Get ready.” I step inside the bathroom and close the door behind me. A quick check in the mirror confirms that my blush matches his.

The living room is empty when I get out of the shower, and thirty minutes later, I’m ready to leave for work. I pass the kitchen and call out a quick bye but freeze at the sight of Adam standing on a step stool, changing a bulb in the ceiling light. Rocket jumps up and barks repeatedly like it’s a game while Marcia leans against the counter in her pajamas, watching her grandson with a cup of coffee in her hand.

“You heading out?” she asks.

“Yeah.” The word comes out at half the volume of my normal voice. Changing that bulb was one of the first things I did for Marcia because her doctor discouraged her from climbing ladders to reach high spaces if she doesn’t need to. And she didn’t because I was there. But now Adam is here too.

Adam turns to face me and his eyes light up. “Have a great day.”

I manage a smile, thanking him and saying it back, while reminding myself that two people making Marcia’s life easier is better than one.

Chapter Seven

That was so good,” I say to Marcia as we join the crowd exiting the AMC Village 7 movie theater the following Sunday afternoon. I’d been dying to see the new Henry Golding and Selena Gomez rom-com, which was only in theaters. Marcia and I were just putzing around the apartment, so I asked if she wanted to see it with me for a girls’ day out, and she happily accepted. “Did you love it?”

Marcia grins, tossing her empty bag of popcorn and small Coke Zero cup into the trash can. “It was cute. Nothing tops the trifecta ofWhen Harry Met Sally,Sleepless in Seattle, andYou’ve Got Mail, but I’m still glad rom-coms are making a comeback.”

“The grand gesture gets me every time. I don’t know anyone in real life who has been the giver or receiver of one, but the fantasy lives on! Especially when it involves one of the characters racing somewhere to surprise the other and declare their love.” I throw a hand to my heart. “Swoon!”

We wordlessly head to our apartment—me making an effort to walk at Marcia’s slower pace—but I place a hand on her arm and stop us both in our tracks. “Are you full from the popcorn, or do you want to get some ice cream?” I’m not quite ready to go home yet. It’s Sunday, which means tomorrow is Monday, and even though I lovemy job and even my classes, I like the weekends more, when my time is my own.

Marcia twists her face in contemplation. “Sweets are a different part of my stomach than salt, so let’s do it.”

“I love your logic! How about Van Leeuwen? Their vegan mint chocolate chip is amazing, and we’ll feel less guilty.”

“I won’t feel guilty anyway, but I likeyourlogic!”

A few minutes later, we’re sitting across from each other at a table in the back of Van Leeuwen, both eating two scoops of cookies and cream—neither of them vegan—and gushing over Henry Golding.

“He’s exceptionally good looking,” I say.

Across the table from me, Marcia nods. “Cheeks sculpted from glass. Abs too.” Her grin morphs into a grimace. “I’m glad Adam isn’t here to witness this conversation. Aren’t they the same age?”

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