Page 70 of The Wild Card
“Please stay.”
I swallow, hoping he hears the sincerity in my voice but doesn’t pick up on the conflict I feel.
Because yeah—Iamokay sharing the loft with him. I feel safer and more secure knowing I won’t be alone. I hate living alone, to be honest. I had roommates all through college, and whenever they were away for weekends or stayed with their boyfriends, I got creeped out.
The bigbutcomes in the form of how living with Collin might impact my feelings for him.
Though … maybe he’s a terrible roommate. Loud in the mornings or late at night. He could be the kind of person who leaves clothes all over the place and never washes dishes.
Honestly, that description fitsmemore than I think it does Collin. I can tell just from his truck that he’s a lot neater than I am. I’m not a slob, but I tend tonot pick up after myself, as my mother likes to say.
If anything, living together might make Collin likemeless.
“Are you sure?” he asks once more.
I appreciate the concern in his voice, and I have no doubt Collin would pick up the box and bag still by the door and immediately leave if I said no.
“Yes. And I’m fine in the guest room. It’s perfect.”
“Okay, then—next order of business.” Collin pulls out a legal pad seemingly out of nowhere. His tone is suddenly serious. Only the glint in his blue eyes gives a hint of amusement. “Time to set down some rules and expectations for this fake relationship, Molly-girl.”
I didn’t know it was possible to laugh so much while coming up with dating—and roommate—rules. I actually don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard—period.
“No, you didn’t,” I wheeze, wiping tears from my eyes. My whole abdomen is aching from how hard I’m laughing now over Collin’s horror story of the brief time he shared an apartment with Pat.
Spoiler alert: it didnotgo well.
“I swear,” Collin says solemnly. “I threw away every single one of his socks. No regrets either.”
“Was he mad?”
“That’s the kicker—Pat didn’t even notice. He just went out and bought new socks when he couldn’t find any. It wasn’t until I confessed a few years later that he found out.” Collin shakeshis head, spinning a ballpoint pen between his fingers. “And he didn’t even care when I told him. Just said he probably deserved it.”
After we finished eating, we moved from the kitchen to the living room couch. I think when we first sat down, there was a whole cushion between us, but somehow in the last hour, we ended up almost next to each other, our thighs touching. I’m not complaining.
It’s just … practice. This is what I’m telling myself with every smile, every laugh, every time I’ve tossed a throw pillow at him and he’s tossed it back. We’re getting comfortable around each other, better prepared to sell this thing than we were the day I first grabbed Collin at the fair.
Anyone who walked into the loft right now would take one look at us and absolutely think we’re dating, so I guess we’re getting a leg up on the whole pretending-to-date thing.
Only … no one is watching.So, what does it mean that we’re still acting this way?
Straightening a little, I wipe the smile from my face, forcing a serious expression. “Are you going to throw away my things if I leave them around the apartment?”
“No.” He straightens too, leaning forward and matching my intensity. “I would never.”
“Even if I leave smelly socks all over the place?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. I know he’s trying to read me, trying to sense whether I’m teasing or serious. I don’t break character, but he still seems to sense something more under the surface.
“If your socks smell as bad as Pat’s do, and you don’t pick them up after a few days, then … yes. I will throw away your socks, Molly.” He pauses. Still trying to read me. I give him nothing. “Is this a dealbreaker? Better tell me now so we don’t waste any more time.”
I can’t help it. One corner of my mouth twitches.
Collin grins and points. “Ha! I knew you were giving me a hard time.”
“I really did want to know,” I insist, even as I’m laughing. “Right about now, I’m glad I don’t have foot odor issues. Let me see this list.”
I reach across to grab the legal pad. My arm brushes Collin’s chest, and for a brief moment, our faces are a little too close. I scoot back once I have the pad in hand, ducking my chin to read and hoping Collin doesn’t notice my pink cheeks. I haven’t done this much blushing since middle school.
