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How could the man just buy the first house he saw? More importantly, how could he possibly think I would want to move in with him?
Wait—he said be his roommate, not move in with him. But wouldn’t it be the same? I mean, yeah, I would have my own bedroom and small living space, but we’d still be under the same roof. That’s living together, right? Or was it?
I’d never lived with a man before. In fact, Carol was the only other person I’d ever lived with besides my parents and one college roommate for a single semester. Carol and I had been roommates, and it had worked out great, but we were best friends. What if I did move in there, and then Trevor brought home one of his women? Or better yet, I brought home a man.
I frowned as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, trying to quiet my mind to sleep. I couldn’t imagine bringing home a man when I lived with a different one, even if we did have separate bedrooms. What the hell was I even thinking? When was the last time I had ever brought a man home? God, it had to be years now.
I rolled to my side, adjusting my pillow, and sighed. The man confused me, from his one moment saying he wanted me to be his roommate, to the next kissing me and telling me I was more than just a plus one to him. What did that evenmean? Was it because of Devon? Was he saying that I was a little more important to him because of my connection to Carol and Devon?
I was frustrated as I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep.
* * *
Iwoke up the next morning grumpy as all get out. It had taken hours to fall asleep, and then I’d had several dreams that had woken me. One was of my cooking in that kitchen, Devon as a toddler racing around the island with a toy in his hand, giggling and grinning up at me as he played. The other was of being in that master bedroom shower, only in that one, I hadn’t been alone.
I’d been standing under the spray of the water, and warm hands were caressing my body. Soap bubbles covered my skin, and a warm mouth spread kisses over my neck and shoulder as two fingers pinched one of my nipples. I’d gasped and sat straight up in bed. I hadn’t seen the face of the man, but I had little doubt who it had been. I’d tried to go back to sleep after that, but my body was begging for a sexual release.
Maybe I needed to hit a bar, find a guy, and just let myself go for a night. I winced as I poured water into the coffee pot. I’d never been into one-night stands, so that wasn’t going to happen. Something needed to happen soon, though, or I was going to lose my mind.
I grabbed my laptop and cellphone and sat down on the couch to wait for the coffee to be ready. As my laptop woke up, I checked my phone. For the first time in a week, I didn’t have any messages from Trevor. Was he alright? Was Devon okay? Did he not want me to go with him now?
Ugh! I tossed my phone to the cushion beside me. Trevor wasn’t my problem, and even though I cared about Devon, he wasn’t my problem either. I shouldn’t care so much about either of them. The problem was, I did care. I adored Devon and could not imagine him not being in my life—and Trevor. Well, shit.
When it came to Trevor, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Yes, I desired him, but so had many other women. Yes, I enjoyed our conversations, and I even liked just being in the same room as him. Was I just a wee bit interested in his proposal to live under the same roof with him? Um, yeah, but just because I was interested didn’t mean I was going to do it. I had a feeling that if I did live with him, I’d find myself falling in love with him, and then my heart would get broken.
Was there a way for Trevor and me to remain in the friend-zone? I wasn’t sure about that. It was obvious that something bubbled under the surface between us. Maybe it was just physical attraction, or maybe it was something more. I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to determine which of those it was.
I shoved thoughts of Trevor out of my head and found an email from a co-worker saying they needed some help on a string of code. For three hours, I ended up working on that and going back and forth with them to test it.
After that, I ate, showered, and then gave myself a pep talk about going into Carol’s bedroom. I had to get this done, and it was now or never. Trevor had helped me break the invisible seal to the bedroom, and it hadn’t been as bad as I thought to be in there. Oh, it had been hard, but I knew I was just a chicken.
He was right; Carol would live forever in my heart and mind, and her stuff was just that, stuff. There were no ghosts in that room to be afraid of. I’d been in that room hundreds of times. I’d even slept in her bed, showered in her bathroom, and raided her closet a time or two.
I pursed my lips. Speaking of closets, what the heck was I going to wear to the wedding tomorrow? I went to mine and glanced through my dresses. They were all boring, or none were appropriate for this time of year. What were the colors of the wedding? Were the men wearing tuxes? What did the bow ties look like?
I chewed on my bottom lip as I stared at my phone, quickly typing a message to Trevor before I changed my mind.
Are you wearing a tux at the wedding or a suit? What color is the tie? I need to know so I don’t clash with you if I’m going to be your plus one.
I waited a few moments for a reply but didn’t get one. I knew he was teaching a class today, so I was pretty sure Trevor was tied up with that and not ignoring me. He didn’t seem the type to do that. I stuck my phone in my pocket and headed up to Carol’s apartment.
When I got there, I turned on my music app so upbeat music played through the speaker on my phone, and I stood at her bedroom door for a long moment. I could do this. I had to do this. No more being afraid of it, just step in and get to work.
I took a tentative step forward, then another. I was over the threshold, and I scanned the room. This was the one room in the house that wasn’t neat. She kept her living room and kitchen spotless, but her bedroom was a different story. Here it looked lived in.
The bed wasn’t even made; the covers were thrown back as if she were going to crawl back under them at any moment. I was tempted to do that, curl up in her bed and see if I could feel her. Stupid. I shook my head and turned to her dresser, my gaze drifting to her jewelry box and a necklace that spilled out from under the lid. I chuckled as I reached for it. I knew what necklace it was. I’d given it to her for her thirtieth birthday. It was a lightning bolt covered in sapphires, her birthstone.
She’d always had a thing for lightning bolts. I fingered the charm and then glanced at the picture over her bed. She had loved thunderstorms, always throwing open the curtains and watching the electricity come down from the sky. I asked her once why it fascinated her so much, and the conversation drifted back to me.
“It’s amazing. Every time a bolt comes down, it looks different. It’s unique and powerful.” She had eyed me carefully. “You know, one day you’ll get hit by a bolt, and it will change your life.”
“Let’s hope I don’t. If I get struck by lightning, my life will be over.” I’d laughed.
She had grabbed my forearm. “No, I wasn’t talking literally. I meant someday you would get struck by that lightning bolt that will change your life. It might be for work, or it could be a man. You never know. But everyone gets hit at least once in their life.”
She had grown quiet, and I’d asked her, “Have you?”
She smiled sadly, her hand going to her stomach. “Yes, I did.”
