Page 17 of The Roommate Subtext

“Thanks.” Andrew’s gaze went soft. “He’s a middle school English teacher in Jamaica Plain. He’s sweet. He just started a new school year, you know, and he’s been talking to me about all the books he wants the kids to read. Modern books, not like the old dusty classics from when we were kids. And he’s close with his family, which I love, and he hates horror movies, which I don’t love, but I can learn to live with, although I’m hoping he’s still going to go with me to the Halloween Film Festival next month.”

Andrew was sweet like this. His expression got far-off and dreamy, the previous topic of conversation completely forgotten. Andrew had never looked like this about a guy before. He dated but had always been waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop. Kind of like Blake always felt about dating. But now Andrew had his guard down, and the change was palpable.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Blake really was. Andrew was a good guy, and he deserved a good relationship. “I like this for you.”

“It’s way too soon to say, I know, but it feels different this time.” Andrew’s warm smile spread over his face. “Oh! Do you want to see a picture?” He swiped through his phone and held it up toward Blake. There was Andrew next to a Black man, slightly taller than him, with close-cropped dark curls and wire-rimmed glasses. With his polo shirt and khakis, Zane definitely fit the “middle school teacher” vibe. Andrew was giving the camera a broad smile and Zane wore a small, shy grin, like he couldn’t believe this was happening, but in a good way. Blake found himself smiling as he looked at them together.

Andrew swiped to another photo. He and Zane were sitting in a duck boat, laughing. “We decided to do tourist stuff for all our dates, even though we both live here. Duck boats, Museum of Science, the Aquarium …” He scrolled right a few more times and stopped on a photo of Zane looking at a group of seals with suspicion. “He doesn’t like seals.”

“Is he kind?”

“Very. And he’s a total nerd, like you.”

Blake didn’t fight the accusation. “What kind of nerd?” There were many kinds of nerds: plant nerds, history nerds, literature nerds, space nerds, fandom nerds, the entire gamut of nerdiness so vast he couldn’t name all the options.

“Oh, uh …” Andrew frowned. “The smart kind? I don’t know. Books, and also science stuff, and he knows a lot of facts. Jeopardy! sorts of things.” He shrugged. “I was able to keep up on science and Star Trek but a lot of the rest of it left me behind. However, he’s never been to a Sox game, so I’m going to try and get him to Fenway before the season ends.”

“A Boston must, of course.”

It was sweet seeing Andrew in love and a part of Blake ached with that longing, but he squashed it down like he always squashed it down.

“I’m starving,” Andrew said, changing the subject on his own. “You want to call it a night? I’m not getting anything else done.”

“Sounds good.” Blake logged out of the laptop.

“India Joy?”

“Yeah. But I have to bring some takeout home for Maggie. It’s her favorite.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Only roommates? Not friends-friends?”

“Shut up.” Blake tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, you can tell me more about Zane.”

SIX

Maggie sat back in front of her spread of empty takeout containers and folded her hands across her belly. “Fuck me, Blake, that was delicious.”

Blake looked up from his laptop, his peach skin coloring faintly pinker. “Kind of an overreaction to takeout.”

“It’s really good takeout.” She shook her head in mock judgment. “Obviously you don’t appreciate the joy of India Joy.”

He looked back down to his screen, ears still pink at the tips. “No, I appreciate it, but not to the point of obscenity.”

Maggie smiled. Blake was ridiculous sometimes and it was endearing. She got up to put her dirty dishes in the dishwasher and throw out her takeout containers. “I know, you don’t swear.”

“I swear. But not gratuitously.”

She sat on the couch, now within better eye contact of where he rested on the recliner. “No, you don’t swear at all. Not just ‘not gratuitously,’ but never.”

A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, but he kept his gaze down on his screen. “Lies. I swear. You’ve just never heard it.”

“When? Broken bone?”

“Well …” He looked up from the keyboard again. “I swear during sex.”

Maggie’s face heated up. Now she was the one blushing because he took her by surprise. He noticed, too, damn him: his lips curved up and he returned to typing. “Well, that explains why I’ve never heard it,” she retorted after too long a pause to seem clever. “And what are you typing over there? Grant writing, this late at night?”

“Nothing.” He shifted his gaze to the side, then back again, smile fading. It clearly wasn’t nothing but he wasn’t sharing.