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“How was I supposed to describe you to my boss? I have no idea what we are.”
“You could have just left it at my name. Instead, you tacked on a roommate at the last second like you didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Never mind that we were holding hands.” I paced in the small space between the island and the cooktop. Maybe I had no right to be aggravated over that, but it was official. I definitely hated that word. Especially when it came to Baker and me.
“I—” She paused and deflated. “I don’t know why I said it. As soon as the word popped out, I wanted to take it back.”
I studied her face. She was telling the truth, and that relieved me more than it should.
“You know how you hate the word space. Well, I despise the word roommate. Never refer to me as that again.”
“But youare.” She threw up her hands.
“I don’t want to be anymore.”
She recoiled, and I realized the mistake of what I’d said.
Her chin lifted, that perfect face lowering a shield to hide her hurt. “Are you moving or am I?”
The world slammed to a stop. “Nobody is going anywhere.”
“You’re right,” she said, a minuscule amount of relief knifing through my consuming anger. “I like this apartment. And I’m not letting you push me out of it. So if you’re not happy, you’ll have to be the one to go.”
I stared at her, stunned into silence and proud of her at once for standing her ground. Somehow I sensed she needed that. But I meant what I said.
“I think we’re both feeling our way through this,” I started, trying to stay calm. She stared at me, unimpressed. “I sure as hell didn’t expect this.” I gestured between us.
Baker folded her arms across her chest. She saw right through my half-truth. On the one hand, I saw us coming a mile away. It was one reason I proposed we lived together in the first place. But I hadn’t anticipated this clawing need I had for her. Hadn’t expected how much I liked living with her. Being around her. How much I wanted to break my own rules and go all in with her. But I couldn’t. And I should have told her that from the start.
“I can’t give you what you want.”
She tapped her foot. “How do you have any idea what I want?”
“Commitment. Am I right?”
The look she shot me made me question my rationale. All the women I’d ever known wanted commitment, even when they changed their minds.
“No. I’m not anywhere near ready for that.”
“With me?” I asked, affronted.
She rolled her eyes. “With anybody.”
Somehow, that didn’t sit well with me. “I guess I should have asked.”
“I guess you should have.” She softened. “I didn’t ask what you wanted, either.”
Wow. Hadn’t expected this.
The woman constantly took me by surprise.
“I like coming home to you.” I clamped my mouth shut after the words came out unfiltered.
“I’m not trying to force you into anything,” she said quietly.
Maybe that was the problem. She was more casual about whatever this was between us than I was.
“I know.” Damn it. I plucked a beer out of the six pack I’d left on the counter. I unscrewed the cap and offered the bottle to her. Baker accepted, and I watched her delicate throat work as she swallowed.
“Did some spill on my chin?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while I watched like it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.
