“Would you consider us friends?”
Waylon’s head snaps to look at me; he’s clearly surprised by my question.
“Of course. Like I said, the guys and I are always gonna look out for you.”
“No, I mean… independently of Darcy. Like beyond just your friend’s girlfriend’s friend. If that makes sense.”
“That doesn’t change my answer. No matter which way you got here, the destination is the same, Darlin’.”
“Don’t call me that,” I say, almost as a reflex,and punch him in the arm.
“I respectfully decline.”
“If you were respectful, you’d stop.”
“Okay, then I disrespectfully decline,” he says, correcting himself.
I roll my eyes and turn my attention to Tater, who’s been sitting on the floor like such a good boy this whole time. I pat the couch next to me, giving him permission to come up now that we’re done eating.
“Who’s the goodest boy?” I say, using my silly baby voice as I give his ears a good scratch.
Waylon studies me as I take his face into both hands and kiss all over his snout. Tater turns over and shows me his belly, so I give it a good scratch too.
“Oh, to be a dog,” he says, shaking his head. “Big sigh.”
“Who needs a man when you can have a dog, seriously?”
“You know, I could be offended, but I totally get it,” Waylon says with a laugh.
We spend another hour talking and laughing, smoke a little more, and then say goodnight. To my surprise, Tater follows me into my room. Waylon is equally surprised but says it’s fine. Although, he’s definitely pouting.
When I crawl beneath my blanket, Tater circles around and settles beside me like the little spoon. I’m grateful for the cuddle buddy tonight. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a very bad day. Sometimes my job is like that. When you’re handling someone’s family, their loved one, emotions can run high, andthere’s an immense amount of pressure not to fuck up what you’re doing.
I needed this. And that sundae. And that sunroom smoke session. And honestly? Waylon’s company is up there with these things too. He feels like a real friend, or at least someone quickly becoming a real one. And despite how fucking hot he is, I’m glad for it.
There’s nothing I dislike more than telling Darcy she was right about something. But Waylon does make a good roommate.
Now if I could just stop picturing him naked.
CHAPTER 8
WAYLON
It’s nearlyeight when I hear Lyric pull into the driveway. A long day, indeed. Fortunately for her, I’ve plotted to be named the best roommate in the world.
The front door clicks and Tater goes running. I hang back in the kitchen and pour a glass of sweet tea.
As she enters, I slide it across the counter in her direction.
“For me?”
I nod. “And I’ve put some dinner in the oven for you.”
Lyric’s expression is one of shock and possibly skepticism. “Why?”
It occurs to me that perhaps she’s not used to being the one receiving care. I remember Darcy telling me that she’d much prefer to take care of others and do for them but has a hard time accepting the same for herself. Which makes me a little sad.
“Because you said you’d be home late, and I’m sure you’re tired. And if it was another hard day, I took the liberty of pre-rolling something for us,” I say, shrugging.
