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“And what would that decision be?” He came back to the counter and leaned on it so they were eye-level.

Easy. “I’m your roommate. I live here.”

He smiled. Straight shot of lust to the loins with a ricochet to all her erogenous zones. There was the width of the counter between them. She closed some of it by leaning on her elbows too. There was nothing but kindness in his eyes. If you’d asked her two months ago if she wanted to kiss Tom O’Connell, she’d have suggested it would be cruel and unusual punishment for something she’d not yet done. A preventative for regret. Now, now her lips tingled thinking about it.

“My dad is a charming snake, with special-issue stealth-attack fangs. He lets you think he’s sleeping, strikes quickly and leaves puncture wounds that sting for days—” he shook his head “—years. It’s why we get on better when we live on opposite sides of the country.”

“Does he like younger women? I should introduce him to Elsie.”

Good line, but it didn’t get her kissed. Tom’s laugh was joined by the sizzle of the beef. He cooked up a casserole and Flick ate for the sheer enjoyment of the meal instead of to please Tom, for the first time since she’d spoken to Drew. That was cause for another wave of uncertainty to crash over her. She was allowed to eat and laugh and love Tom’s arms around her and the thrill and comfort of his kisses, just like she had before she’d gotten Drew’s news, but it all felt wrong, like she was wearing something frivolous and cheap to the most important meeting of her life.

They messed about after dinner, Tom in the kitchen, Flick on her social feed, avoiding the question of who slept where for so long it got awkward and Flick spoke up on her way to bed. “I’ll be fine on my own tonight.”

That was supposed to be the truth, but the words were stale and thick in her mouth and they made her feel like a liar. And she wasn’t fine. She got into an argument with a troll on Twitter about the societal value of universal healthcare that she knew better than to start, but it stopped her getting up and wandering around the apartment because it would be unforgivable if she woke Tom again. The thing she most wanted to do was crawl into his bed and fall asleep to the rhythm of his inevitable steady breathing and the knowledge that the wall of him was at her back.

She was awake and eating cornflakes when the door buzzer rang at five. Sun wasn’t fully up yet and Tom wouldn’t surface for another hour. She pressed the intercom for the door. “Apartment fifteen.”

“Is it?”

Cheeky at this time of the morning. “Who’s asking?”

“Nicholas O’Connell. Apartment fifteen is where my son lives.” His son and his roommate, which Nicholas O’Connell knew full well.

“He’s asleep right now.”

“Be a good girl and wake him up then.” As if she was the maid, or the inconsequential girlfriend.

She didn’t need to deal with it because Tom appeared in the hallway, rubbing his face. He was spectacularly rumpled, as though he hadn’t slept much either. “Is that my goddamn father?”

She nodded. “Do I let him up?”

“Goddamn.” He reached over her and pressed the intercom. “Dad. There’s an early opener on the corner. Sunshine Bakery. Come back in an hour.” He disconnected the intercom and dropped his hand to her shoulder. “Should’ve figured he’d do this. Stealth fangs. I’m sorry he woke you.”

She gestured to the cereal box and her bowl on the counter. “I was up.”

He ducked his head to look at her more closely. “Did you sleep at all?”

She wanted to run her fingers over his stubble, press into him and feel his strength. She made do with putting her palms on his chest. “What’s the game plan?”

“I’m guessing he already made you feel like you were some dispensable one-night stand. Take no shit from him.”

“I can do that.”

He put his arms around her and drew her close. Put his lips to her forehead. She knew if she lifted her face they’d kiss. She wanted that. He wanted that. Forget grief and consolation, forget expectation and obligation. They’d become something to each other independent of those things. Roommates with benefits and a shelf life. Occasional lovers. Friends.

She’d talked of staying, but they both knew she wouldn’t. Now that the shock had worn off some, she knew the way to honor Drew was to make her way forward. She’d started briefing her replacement yesterday, so the time to say, hey, can I keep this job? had passed and she didn’t mourn it.

Tom was a most worthy man, but he lived in the wrong city and she’d met him at a complicated time. It would be unfair to muddle it further.

“Your dad will be back in an hour.” And they both had to get to work.

Fourteen hours later she met Nick O’Connell face-to-face at a restaurant Tom had picked because he said it would be better to break the ice over bread. She sat across from father and son with the menu, tossing up pasta against risotto and trying not to be obvious about checking Nick over.

He’d politely shaken her hand and then pulled out her chair, pushed it in as she sat and proceeded to say nothing while he studied the menu too. Flick couldn’t identify what he was doing to make Tom tense, but Tom was like a massive iceberg on the other side of her. As still and silent as his father.

“Tom said this was a surprise visit. What brings you to the city?” she said.

Nick spared her the briefest glance. “It’s Tom’s birthday in a month. It was more convenient to visit now.”

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