Page 95 of Dear Roomie
The aforementioned man is currently drenched in sweat as he works to keep the swarm surrounding the bar satisfied. This place was so full when we got here, we weren’t able to secure our normal spot at the bar and had to make do with gathering around one of the scattered high-tops instead.
“Sorry, Morgan, I drank yours on the way over. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” she adds with a devilish smile.
His laughter vibrates from where he stands pressed against my back.
“I’ll remember that next time you ask me to save you the last donut,” he teases, which draws a pointed glare from the tiny woman.
I grab one of the glasses and swallow back the fiery liquid. Chelsea and Evelyn do the same.
“What the heck was in that?” Evelyn sputters. Her face grows red as she coughs around the burn. “Pure alcohol?”
“Don’t know, didn’t ask. I just said to make it strong.”
“Well, it was definitely strong,” she mutters.
“So where is life taking you ladies next? I know Blondie isn’t going anywhere, especially now that she and Morgan are a thing, but what about you two?” Karis turns her attention to my friends, and I lean back into my boyfriend’s hold.
I’m only half listening as the pair fill Karis in on the details that I’ve already heard a million times. My focus is on the man behind me. I can’t see him, but his fingers trace patterns on my exposed arm, sending chills through my body. That has been my favorite change—there is very rarely a time when he isn’t touching me in some capacity.
Those gentle brushes of his skin against mine have become my lifeline when everything gets to be too much for me. He might treat me like a queen, but even the best relationship won’t magically make my anxiety go away. When the worstof it comes, he holds me and helps me breathe through it, his touch grounding me in a way I could never manage on my own. It’s a good thing, too, because we have spent more than a few nights together in bed with him holding me while I cry. Tanner has stayed firm on keeping the girls out of my life.
But fuck that asshole.
That’s a fight for another day.
I blink away my growing melancholy. “Want me to go get us some drinks?” The music is so loud I have to tilt my head to keep from shouting.
“I can go get them,” Morgan offers, but I shake my head.
“No, you stay here. I need to use the restroom anyway.”
He lets out a discontent hum but kisses the top of my head and releases me.
“Be right back,” I tell him as I pull away, and push my way across through the crowd.
The restrooms are tucked away in an alcove in the back corner of the bar. Thankfully, the line isn’t too long. I’ve seen it wrap out of the hallway and down the wall before. It only takes a few minutes for me to get in and finish my business, and then I’m making my way back to our group. I’m about to cross over the threshold into the main area when someone grabs my wrist, halting my steps.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as my chest grows cold with unease. I yank my wrist out of the unwanted grasp and swing around to face whoever was stupid enough to touch me.
“Easy, James. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nathan says with a carefree smile, holding his hands up in the air beside his head.
If I didn’t know him better, I’d buy the cheerful facade he’s trying to sell, but I can see the cracks below the surface. His eyes are shadowed by dark circles that aren’t normally present, and his jaw is tight behind the fabricated smile. There’s a wild spark in his eyes I don’t trust; it’s the look of a desperate man, and desperate men are dangerous.
“If you didn’t want to scare me, then you shouldn’t have grabbed me in a secluded hallway,” I seethe and step away from him, not daring to turn my back.
“James, wait, please,” he pleads, but he doesn’t grab me again. At least he isn’t a complete idiot.
“What the fuck do you want?” I’m regretting my decision to hear him out before he’s even opened his mouth.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you that night, and I guess for grabbing you just now too.” He fidgets with his hands in front of him, the confident mask crumbling away.
“Why couldn’t you have done that literally any place else,” I snap.
“Because you’re always with Morgan.”
“And you never told him how much of an ass you were that night, did you?” The pieces of the puzzle snap together in my head, painting this whole interaction in a clearer, more pathetic light.
“No, I didn’t.” He deflates even more. “And he would probably hate me if he knew, especially now.”
