Roommaid

by Sariah Wilson

  Which gave me a little heated shiver.

  Shay had to add in her two cents. “Buying a Christmas tree together feels like a very couple-y thing to do. And then making plans to decorate it? With hot chocolate and mini marshmallows and Christmas music and a movie? You’ve basically been married for six years because everything you’re doing screams couple.”

  “The problem is, I can’t tell the difference between what I want to have happen and what is actually happening. I want to respect his boundaries and stay just friends.” Especially since Brad had been so unable to respect mine. I knew what that felt like, and it sucked. “But the truth is I do have a crush on him and am maybe even falling for him. But I can’t tell if he feels the same and it doesn’t help that my attraction barometer is all off because the only guy I’ve ever dated lied to me all the time.”

  They both nodded, looking at me seriously for the first time that night. I kept talking. “Like tonight. I came out to get my purse and he just . . . stared at me. But did he stare at me? Or am I making it up in my head? And if he was, why?”

  “Did he say anything?” Delia asked.

  “He started to say something about how I looked but he was kind of hemming and hawing and didn’t finish his sentence so I don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.”

  Shay said, “Oh, please.” She dragged the word please out to, like, six syllables. “Look at you in this black dress. You basically rendered the man speechless.”

  My chest felt light and sparkly. I wanted so badly to believe her. “Do you really think so?”

  She rolled her eyes at me and said, “This guy could write I think you’re hot in Sharpie on your forehead and you’d still be asking us if he liked you.”

  I was a little offended. That wasn’t true. If he wrote it in Sharpie on my forehead, I thought I’d believe it then.

  “Here you are, ladies,” Jimbo said, pulling up in front of the club. “And even though it’s none of my business, I’m glad you dumped that Brad guy and you should give this Tyler a chance.”

  “And that’s why you’re going to get a big tip,” Shay said as we climbed out of the car.

  As Jimbo drove off I said, “If Tyler is attracted to me, then why isn’t he doing anything about it?”

  “Other than spending his every waking moment with you?” Shay asked sarcastically.

  Delia linked her arm through mine. “Doesn’t he think you’re still with Brad? Maybe he’s trying to be a good guy and not hit on his roommate who has a boyfriend.”

  I’d never considered that. Part of me immediately wanted to blame my aunt. She’d made him think that Brad was this serious thing in my life when he hadn’t been a real part of it in a long time. Of course, I’d played a part in that, too, by staying quiet. “That makes sense. But Tyler keeps reiterating that we’re friends. He high-fived me today. It’s like our only house rule.”

  “I think your options here,” Delia said, “are you either need to bring it up to see if he still feels the same way about the rule, which could be potentially embarrassing, or you’re going to have to wait and see if he makes a move. After you break up with Brad, of course.”

  If I brought the rule up with Tyler, the problem wasn’t just the potential embarrassment. It was also that I could lose my place to live if he rejected me.

  Not only that, but what if we dated? Wouldn’t it be weird with us already living together? What would happen if we broke up?

  Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

  Shay shook her head. “I think you should just get him drunk. See what happens when his guard’s not up.”

  “That’s not really a plan,” I told her.

  “Speaking of getting people drunk”—Delia began tugging on my arm—“I feel like I’ve been neglecting my liver by letting it get too healthy. Let’s go do some damage.”

  We followed her into the club. It was packed to the brim even though it was still a little early in the evening. The inside was decorated like a modern speakeasy. There were stuffed armchairs and benches that lined the walls, all covered in a dark-purple velvet. Glittering chandeliers hung overhead and a grand piano was set up next to the DJ. The walls were covered in a shimmery peacock feather wallpaper that somehow sparkled under the dim lighting.

  The music wasn’t nearly as loud as I’d anticipated it to be, which was nice.

  We stopped off at the coat check and followed Delia to the bar. She flagged down a very cute bartender. “Bring us three Grey Gooses with soda. Wait. That can’t be right. Three Grey Geese with soda? Which one is it?”

  Shay shrugged. “We’re teachers. We should probably be able to figure this out.”

  “Never mind, just bring us a flock of vodka and sodas!” Delia said. Vodka was Delia’s favorite poison and she always insisted we drink with her.

  The bartender returned quickly with our cocktails and we cheered each other, clinking our glasses.

  “Maybe Shay is right,” Delia told me. “If nothing’s going to happen with Tyler, we should find you a new guy. What is your type?”

  “So far it seems to be guys who suck up to my father.” Which meant Tyler was out. I sipped my drink. It was strong. Meanwhile Delia practically chugged hers. I could never figure out how someone as tiny as she was could drink like a sailor on leave.

  She set her empty glass down. “That guy’s cute. The blond at the end of the bar. His dark-haired friend’s not so bad, either.”

  I looked in the direction Delia pointed and she was right—the guys were cute. I just wasn’t interested. “Eh.”

  As if this was a challenge, she said, “Okay, what about that guy sitting near the post? He reminds me of that actor who plays Iron Man, only younger.”

  “If you’re feeling desperate,” Shay added, “that guy over there kind of looks like Brad. You should hook up with him and then dump him. It’ll help your ego.”

  It took me a moment to realize that the man didn’t just look like Brad.

  He was Brad.

  And he was kissing another woman. Not just kissing her. It was like she had been deprived of all oxygen and he was single-handedly keeping her alive by providing her with a steady stream of it.

  Shay seemed to have come to the same realization just after I did and I heard her swear as I stalked off toward him. I had to make sure.

  I tapped him on the shoulder and it took him a bit to break off his kiss. It almost sounded like suction being broken.

  When he turned around, his eyes went wide. “Madison! What are you—”

  Before he could accuse me of stalking him or being in any way irrational, I said, “So your text this morning, about waiting for me, you forgot to mention that you only planned on being faithful for less than twelve hours. You said you were committed. Which I guess could still be true if your definition of committed means sticking your tongue down other people’s throats.”

  His date tried to intervene but Brad told her to be quiet. Then he turned back to face me. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  I was incredulous. Was he seriously going to try and gaslight me here and now, when I had literally caught him cheating on me? Well, not technically cheating since we weren’t together anymore. But he had been making promises to me. Promises that he’d had no intention of keeping.

  How had I ever believed him? How had I ever given him the benefit of the doubt? Why had I taken him back so many times? But I knew why and it just made me sick that my own parents had been complicit in this mess. That I had been complicit.

  That I had been so stupid somebody really should have taken my picture and hung it up in the hallowed Halls of Stupid as the stupidest person who had ever lived.

  “I know I’m repeating myself here, but that’s because you seem to not be getting it. We are totally done,” I told him. “This is over. We are never getting back together. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to talk to you. I can’t believe I wasted so many years of my life on such a pathetic excuse of a man who is nothing
but a liar and a cheat.”

  His eyes flashed angrily. “What did you expect, Madison? A man has needs. I’m sorry you saw me kissing Amber. I just wanted to remember what it felt like to kiss someone who knew what they were doing. I wouldn’t need to cheat on you if you’d ever bothered to learn how to be better in bed . . .”

  Oh, that was a low blow. It was like he’d just punched me in the gut. When we were fifteen, we’d been making out in the stands at a football game. The head cheerleader, a girl named Fallon, had irrationally hated me for years and it only got worse when Brad and I got together. I overheard her making fun of how I kissed him and how stupid I looked. She and all her friends were laughing at me. I was already so insecure at that age and when I went to Brad and told him, when I had expected him to comfort me and say that he loved kissing me, he had cocked his head at me and said, “Well, she’s not wrong. You’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not great at it.”

  Which made me feel like I was always running a race I couldn’t win. With every physical thing that happened between us, I was always unsure and questioning myself. It wasn’t until this moment, when he weaponized those fears against me, that I realized all of it had been a way for him to manipulate me. By making me feel like I was never good enough for him, he had ensured that I spent all my time trying to change his mind.

  A favorite tactic of my parents, and one I should have recognized sooner.

  Any remorse I might have felt, any fear I had of my family’s expectations, it was all gone. He had just wiped it out with one fell swoop. I didn’t even have the strength to care enough to hate him. He was toxic and terrible and I just wanted him out of my life permanently.

  He’d spent years showing me what a snake he was and it was about time I started believing him.

  “And to think some part of me actually felt bad about possibly hurting you.” I just shook my head. “The only good thing now is that I never have to see you again. Don’t call me, don’t text me, don’t even think about me. We’re finished.”

  I needed to get out of this club. Away from him. Because right now I was furious with both of us. Furious with him for being such an awful human being and furious with myself that I’d put up with it for so very long.

  I felt rather than saw Delia and Shay just behind me, one at each shoulder like they were my royal bodyguards ready to protect me. I went to the coat check and I heard Delia saying that she’d ordered another Uber and it was on its way.

  Brad ran over and said, “You’re still wearing my bracelet. That has to mean something.”

  I’d forgotten that I’d put it on. The only thing it meant was that I didn’t have any other bracelets to accessorize my outfit. I yanked the bracelet off my arm and threw it on the floor at his feet.

  “All it means is that I’m an idiot and I deserve so much better than you.”

  Shay got our coats and Delia put her arm around me, taking me out the door. As I walked outside I heard him yell, “What are my parents going to say?”

  That was so not my problem.

  Fortunately, he stayed in the club and our Uber arrived a minute later. Shay and Delia took me to a quieter bar but I only sipped at the martini they put into my hands. What I wanted was to go home and crawl into bed. I felt embarrassed that tonight had happened and how my friends didn’t seem to know how to act around me. I wanted to tell them I was fine. That I’d been over him for a long time and that I was ashamed I’d put up with him and his lying, cheating ways for so long.

  Tonight I was mostly mad at myself and there was no way they’d be able to talk me down from it. “Guys, I really just want to go home. Thank you for all the support. All of it. You are the best friends anyone could ask for and I adore you. You mean the world to me but I sort of just want this day to be over.”

  Thankfully they understood and got an Uber to take me back home. They made me promise to call, said they would be there when I was ready to talk.

  When I got inside my apartment, what I saw was such a sharp contrast to how I was feeling that it startled me.

  Loud music was playing and Tyler was gleefully dancing around the room with Pigeon yipping at his heels and bouncing along with him. He was so adorable. I drank in the sight of him and his happiness. It was like a soothing balm for my soul.

  He came to a stop when he saw me. His expression was excited, giddy. “Madison! You’re home! I was hoping I’d get the chance to celebrate with you!”

  I saw an open bottle of champagne on the coffee table. “It looks like you’re a little drunk.”

  “Little bit,” he agreed. “Care to join me?”

  He grabbed my hand and spun me around, then unexpectedly circled me back into his arms so that I crashed against his chest. My body hummed with awareness, my skin heated in response to being pressed flush against him.

  “Hi,” he said, and that tension was back. This didn’t feel like some friendly hug. It felt like more.

  But I distrusted myself too much to see things clearly. I coughed and moved away from him, not entirely believing that my shaky limbs could accomplish the task. “What are you celebrating?” My voice sounded a little too bright and fake.

  He grabbed his phone and turned off the music. “I got the promotion!”

  “That’s amazing! Congratulations!” I was genuinely delighted for him.

  “Thank you. I’ve had to sacrifice a lot to get here and do things that I’m not . . .” He trailed off. The light in his eyes dimmed and his voice sounded distant, like his body was here but his mind was somewhere else. The entire mood had changed and I wanted to bring him back to being happy Tyler.

  “How did you find out today?” His office wasn’t open.

  My question seemed to do the trick, and that gleam was back. “My boss is in London and he’d put in the request but upper management had to sign off on it and with the time difference . . . they sent the email late afternoon and didn’t get it until the following morning and then he had meetings but he wanted me to know as soon as possible. He emailed me this morning but I hadn’t checked my email until an hour ago. Hey, have a drink. Let me get you a glass.”

  He came back with an empty champagne flute and filled it two-thirds of the way. “To you,” I said, clinking my glass against his. “In celebration, I won’t cook for you.”

  “Aw, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.”

  Shaking my head, I proceeded to down the entire contents in a single gulp.

  Letting out a low whistle he said, “Wow. That was kind of impressive.”

  “Pour me another,” I said, holding my glass out to him.

  He did so but asked, “Is everything okay?”

  Was I so transparent? Here I thought I’d been hiding it well. “I don’t want to bring you down. You seem really happy. And you should be. I know you worked hard.”

  “You helped me with this. I think bringing in those new clients is what pushed me over the edge. I kind of owe you. And I hope you know that you can talk to me.” He put his hand lightly on my wrist and led me over to the couch so that we were sitting down. I stared at his hand, wondering how such a simple touch could make me feel like the champagne bubbles were fizzing in my blood. He asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I broke up with my boyfriend tonight.” I took another big gulp of champagne. I was starting to feel the effects. My head felt a little light, my body warmer than usual. “It’s the man my parents picked out. The one I’m supposed to marry. And so I’ve put up with him and his crap for a long time. He would lie to me and cheat on me and my parents demanded I take him back. Then when they cast me off, he was nowhere to be found. I needed his support and he disappeared. Recently he came back, saying he was committed to me and wanted another chance. Tonight I saw him in a club making out with another woman.”

  “Huh.” He paused a beat. “That guy sounds like a real winner.”

  I wanted to both laugh and cry. “Believe it or not, he’s the best boyfriend I ever had.”

&nbs
p; “Jeez. Who did you date before? Satan?”

  Now I did laugh. “Brad has been my only boyfriend.”

  Tyler took another sip of champagne. “Wait. But when you and Frederica came by—”

  I cut him off. “I don’t know how much she knew about what was going on with me and Brad. But she might have played it up a bit for your benefit because of your rule. Because you were so worried I’d be psycho and fall in love with you and then stalk you.”

  He smiled wryly. “That seems a little silly now, doesn’t it?”

  Other than the Everest-size crush I had on him? “Yep. Silly.”

  “Well, it sounds to me like you’re better off without him. Good riddance.”

  “Definitely. Especially when his parting shot was about what a bad kisser I am. Among other things.”

  “Wasn’t he the only guy you were kissing?” When I nodded, he added, “So wouldn’t that kind of make it his fault if you were?”

  “Good point. He was just trying to make me feel bad about myself. And it might have even worked a little. He knows I’m self-conscious about it.” Liquid warmth was spreading through my limbs and I kicked off my shoes to make myself more comfortable, tucking my legs up underneath me.

  He seemed to be considering what to say to that and what he came up with nearly knocked me off the sofa.

  “I could kiss you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “What?” I asked. Was I drunker than I thought? Recently I hadn’t been drinking very much, mostly because I couldn’t afford it. I’d also been so busy with my decorations and setting up my new life and getting accustomed to it that I hadn’t really found the time for alcohol. I must have become more of a lightweight because I was obviously feeling the effects from my drinks at the clubs and the two glasses of champagne.

  And if it wasn’t affecting me, then the alcohol had clearly affected Tyler. In some ways it was kind of fun—he was like Tyler on steroids. More charming, more playful, more fun.

  Somehow more attractive.

  “I could kiss you,” he repeated. “As an impartial third party, I could judge for myself whether or not you are a bad kisser. Then you would have empirical proof that he was wrong.”