What would Nate be thinking? I keep asking myself. What would he be doing right now? Not freaking out. Not landing himself in another situation to get hurt.
Iris has her feet up on the dashboard, and she’s singing along to some Taylor Swift that Nate’s pretending to hate, but I know he’s got a soft spot for. I’ve tuned them out from the backseat, leaning my head against the window.
It’s fine. This is fine. I’m moving into a house with someone who isn’t a stalker. Isn’t going to steal my stuff. This is a major upgrade, hot roommate aside.
Nate slows down when the house comes into view, leaning over the steering wheel to look at it with a whistle. “Nice place.”
“I told you it was.”
“You didn’t tell me shit. You saidI’m movingand hung up.”
When we pull into the driveway, Iris is already reaching for the door handle, and I’m about to do the same when I see Mike.
He’s on the front porch, leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his fingers, squinting in the morning light. And if I thought he looked good when he’d just woken up—
That was nothing compared to this.
He’s wearing a black band tee, cut-off sleeves that show his toned arms, and dark jeans. His hair is pulled back from his face today, and rings on his fingers reflect the sun when he waves, drawing my attention to his tattooed knuckles.
“That’s your roommate?” Nate asks from the driver’s seat.
“Yep.”
“Shit,” he laughs, unaware that I’m freaking out on the inside. “Dude looks like he would’ve been your best friend in high school.”
“We’re not friends.” I open the door, unable to take another second of this conversation, and it hasn’t even started. I can feel Nate looking at me, but I don’t look back.
I’m already moving to the truck bed, doing the mental math of how many trips this is going to take and how long I can reasonably spend unpacking before I have to see him.
But that was pointless to think about, because Mike comes down off the porch, cigarette between his fingers, smiling like he’s pleased to see us.Happyto have a roommate. “Hey! You came!”
“I said I would.”
He looks past me at Nate, coming around from the other side of the truck. “And, you brought help. Sweet.”
“This is Nate,” I say. “And Iris.”
“Thanks for taking him in,” Iris says, giving him a warm smile, patting me on the back.
Mike laughs, and it’s a good laugh, exactly how I remembered.
I start moving boxes around before I have to hear it again. “Happy to have him. You guys want coffee? I made a pot.”
“We’re good.”
“I’d love some,” Iris says at the same time.
She doesn’t even drink coffee.
I look at her.
She looks back with an expression that says she has no idea what I’m annoyed about, and that annoys me even more. She’smyfamily, and she’s being all buddy-buddy with theenemy.
“Come on,” Mike says. “It’s in the kitchen.” He disappears inside with Iris following behind. I watch them until I can’t see anymore, Mike chatting animatedly, and Iris laughing along.
I snatch up the heaviest box I can find and start toward the door, Nate falling into step beside me. “He seems nice.”
I don’t say anything to that because he’s right, and I hate it.
