Roommaid

by Sariah Wilson

  “Madison?”

  I straightened back up. Tyler was here. Surprised as I was, I drank in the sight of him. His hair was ruffled and there were dark bags under his eyes. As if he hadn’t slept.

  He was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “I’m sorry.” My words were little more than a whisper. “I thought you’d be at work.”

  He walked into the living room, his arms folded, and went to stand by the couch. “That would be a little strange, considering I don’t have a job anymore.”

  “What? You quit?”

  “Right after you walked away at the party. No matter what your mother says, I didn’t know. I never would have been involved with some scheme like that. I never would have hurt you that way. And for them to lie and claim that I was? That’s not someone I want to be working for. So I quit.”

  He’d quit his job for me. My throat started to ache as my eyes welled up. “But what about your mom?” He needed that job to take care of her.

  “I called her and told her things had to change. That I wasn’t going to be in investments any longer and was going to one of those boot camps for coding and, as a result, would be making a fraction of what I’m making now. Her lifestyle’s going to have to change pretty radically. She wasn’t happy about it.”

  “That’s not hard to imagine.” I was so proud of him for standing up for himself, for following his dreams. For not letting his mother take advantage of him any longer.

  We stood there, neither one of us sure what to say. I pointed at the Christmas tree. “You didn’t open your presents.”

  “It wasn’t Christmas without you.” He said it in a way that tore my heart up all over again. “Do you want to open them now?”

  “Okay.”

  Not sure where this was going or what I should be doing, I sat on the floor next to the tree. He sat with me and Pigeon came to settle herself between us. “This is the one I got for Pigeon.” I handed it to him.

  He showed it to her, but she yawned her disinterest. So he opened it, carefully, as if he didn’t want to rip it. “A pigeon?” he asked in delight.

  “A girly pink pigeon. With a bow. I thought she might like it.”

  Tyler handed it to her and she put it between her paws, laying her head on top of it. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

  I handed him the photo book next. He opened it and looked at the title. It was the same hashtag he used in his Instagram posts, #ohtheplacesyoullgo. He gave me a look of confusion as he began to turn pages. He laughed when he saw the pictures, flipping through each carefully until he got to the final one. He grinned with delight when he saw the Pokémon-filled one.

  “I thought when you finally get to take Pigeon to all these places, you might like to catch some Pokémon while you’re there,” I said when he stayed silent.

  He nodded, clearing his throat. “I love it.”

  It was so close to I love you that for a second I couldn’t breathe. I forced myself to start sucking in oxygen and handed him the envelope. When he pulled out the check, he furrowed his eyebrows at me. “What’s this?”

  “It was what I was able to save up this month thanks to your budgeting advice. I wanted to start paying rent.”

  “Does that mean—” Then he shook his head, as if he’d caught himself before he could say more. Instead he picked up the lighter package and handed it to me. “Here.”

  I opened it up and it was a purple T-shirt that said TEAM TYSON on it. “Thank you?”

  He let out a chuckle, understanding that I didn’t get it. “When we put up the tree, we decided we made a great team? Tyson is our names put together. Tyler and Madison.”

  Oh. That sent little pink arrows into my heart. It was both thoughtful and adorable. “Thank you.”

  Then he handed me the heavier package, and after I tore off the paper, I found a label maker. Just like the one Delia had. The one I’d offhandedly mentioned wanting. I never would have thought he’d even noticed, let alone made some mental note and then bought me one. “I love it. I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “Of course I did. You’re important to me. You, not your family. I don’t care who your parents are. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. My mom, she’s vicious, you know? She knew exactly what to say and do to get me to doubt you. And I did. And I’m so sorry for that.”

  He reached out and grabbed my hands and I nearly cried out from how wonderful it felt to be touching him again.

  I wanted him to have the full picture of where I’d been coming from. “Not that it’s an excuse, but I had also talked to Oksana that morning.”

  “Oksana?”

  I nodded. “She stopped by specifically to see me. She said all these terrible things about you. That you weren’t a good guy and were ruthless and ambitious, and it stuck in my head.”

  “So when your mother told you the same thing . . .”

  “It was easy to believe. And I’ve been lied to so many times I just couldn’t bear the thought that you would lie to me, too.”

  “Oksana said what she did because I told her things were completely over with us and that I was starting to have feelings for someone else. It probably wasn’t hard for her to fill in the blanks.”

  “I’m sorry. I never should have doubted you,” I apologized. “Then you said we had things to talk about and my mind just went to a bad place.”

  He leaned his forehead against mine and I was again struck with that feeling, that relief mixed with love and the recognition that this was where I belonged. He was my home.

  “Here’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about. I should have been more honest with you,” he said. “I wanted to tell you how much I loved coming home to you every day. That I found myself heading home early even though I should have stayed at the office. At some point you became more important to me than my job. I wanted to be with you, all the time. I couldn’t admit it out loud, but I knew that I was falling for you.”

  “Oh.” That was the absolute sweetest thing ever and I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Because from the very beginning you made me feel invincible. Like I could do anything I set my mind to. You believed in me in a way no one else had in a long time. I had to pretend in so many parts of my life, like I was playing some role. But I never felt that way when I was with you. I was always just me, and I loved that. And I also loved that you were bad at things like crafting and cleaning but you did them anyway and always gave it your best.”

  “Hey!” I protested, basking in his warm laughter as it washed over my face. He pulled back, letting me look into his gorgeous blue eyes.

  “That night when I came home early and you tried to crack my skull open?” When I didn’t respond, he clarified, “The first time we hugged.”

  Oh, I hadn’t forgotten. “I remember.”

  “I wanted you that night.” His words sent heated barbs of excitement through me. “And I felt like a hypocrite and a bad person. I had that rule, and here I was, ready to throw it aside without even talking it over with you first. Plus, you had a boyfriend.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I didn’t know that then. Just like the first time we kissed, I’d just found out that you’d ended things with him. I didn’t kiss you to help you out. I kissed you because I had wanted to kiss you for a very long time. I felt like the biggest jerk and I was worried that I was taking advantage of you, that you might have been vulnerable given that you’d just gotten out of an eight-year relationship.”

  He’d already said as much before, but it didn’t hurt to hear it again. To listen to the things he thought were important to share. “No. We’d ended a long time before that and I was totally over him.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “You didn’t ask,” I reminded him.

  “No, I didn’t. And it was a mistake, not asking. I felt awful about making such a big deal over us staying just friends but then kissing you. The next morning you said you didn’t w
ant to date anyone, and I took that as my cue to try and move on.”

  “I was only saying what I thought you wanted to hear. I said I didn’t want to date anyone else because I was in love with you!”

  His face lit up in a goofy grin. “You love me?”

  “Yes. And I have for a long time.”

  “You’ve never said it before.”

  “Really? Because I think about it constantly. I just really wanted to respect your boundaries because no one seemed to ever respect mine.”

  “I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. “I never should have had that rule. We wouldn’t have wasted so much time. Because since you’ve been gone, I’ve realized just how much . . . Pigeon misses you.”

  “Just Pidge?” I teased, loving that I could be like this with him. That we were us again.

  “She won’t leave your room. She needs you. I need you. I’m lost without you. I was content in my life before I met you, but I can’t go back to how things used to be. There’s only being with you and missing you. The only life I want is one with you in it.”

  “I want that, too,” I said. “But I purposely came over here today, thinking you’d be gone. Because I was afraid that after what I did, what I said, things would be over and you’d never want to see me again.”

  “Why would you think that?” His hands tightened around mine.

  “Most of the people I’ve loved stopped loving me after I made mistakes. And I didn’t want that to happen with you, because being with you is when I feel most like me. Like I’m the person I always wanted to be. As if I get to see myself through your eyes. And you are such an amazing person and I love everything about you and I feel so lucky to get to be with you.” My voice started quivering as my emotions began to overwhelm me.

  “You didn’t make mistakes by making the choices that you did. And it’s on them for ending things, because you are one of the most lovable people I know.”

  “I am?”

  He kissed my forehead. “You are so good and kind and smart and funny and brave and I adore you.”

  “Just adore?”

  Taking one of my hands, he put it against his chest, over his heart. “I love you in the worst way possible. With everything that I am.”

  I couldn’t stop my tears, but this time they were happy ones. With his free hand he reached up to wipe them away.

  “You still love me even if I was maybe a little flexible with the truth in the past?”

  “Madison, I don’t think you understand. I know you. I know who you are and what you want and I love everything about you, good and bad. Not to mention that now I know who your parents are, the lying is understandable, given that you didn’t have great role models.”

  That made me laugh, and it felt amazing to laugh again. “I will do my best to be completely honest going forward.”

  “Me too.” He took in a deep breath. “I didn’t like my life growing up, so I hid it. I got the right job, the right clothes, leased the right apartment, dated a certain type of girl. I hid behind all of it. Nobody ever got to see the real me. Until you. When I’m with you, I never feel like I’m hiding. You see me. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to open up to. I’m always going to be honest with you. I’m always going to love you.”

  His words were like sparkling fireworks setting off inside me. “And you understand that I have a lot of baggage.”

  “Good thing I work out,” he said. He paused a beat before adding, “Because I’m strong and I can carry it—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” I grinned at his stupid joke and was excited to think about the fact that I was going to spend a long time grinning at dumb things he said.

  “I’m going to have to get a cheaper apartment when the lease is up,” he said. “Which is good, because we’re only going to need one room.”

  “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

  “What I want is for you to marry me. But we can talk about it when you’re ready.”

  I loved him so, so, so much. I’d marry him today if he wanted. “You don’t talk about it. You ask.”

  “I will. But for now, come here.” His voice was low and rough, like he was having the same onslaught of loving feelings that I was.

  He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest, and I nestled against his shoulder. I breathed the smell of him in.

  I sighed. “Orb weavers.”

  “Did you just say orb weavers?” he repeated, laughter peppering his voice.

  “They put out this pheromone that makes moths fly to their deaths, and Delia asked us what that scent would be for us. This, you, you’re that scent. You smell like freedom. Possibilities.”

  “Funny,” he said. “I was just thinking that you smelled like all of my tomorrows. My future. My wife.”

  “That’s closer. Next time, make it a question.”

  The next time, he did.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Thank you for reading my story! I hope you liked getting to know Tyler and Madison and enjoyed them falling in love as much as I did. If you’d like to find out when I’ve written something new, make sure you sign up for my newsletter at www.sariahwilson.com, where I most definitely will not spam you. (I’m happy when I send out a newsletter once a month!)

  And if you feel so inclined, I’d love for you to leave a review on Amazon, on Goodreads, with your hairdresser’s cousin’s roommate’s blog, via a skywriter, in graffiti on the side of a bookstore, on the back of your electric bill, or any other place you want. I would be so grateful. Thanks!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  For everyone who is reading this—thank you. Thank you for your support, for your kind words, and for loving my characters as much as I do! You are the reason I get to keep putting out books.

  Thank you to Alison Dasho—thank you for all the amazing opportunities and the support and for your encouragement, wisdom, and expertise. I’m so grateful that I get to work with you and the entire Montlake team. I know what a rare honor that is, and I’ll never take it for granted. A special thank-you to Charlotte Herscher, who is part therapist, part friend, and all developmental editor. You always help me make my stories so much stronger, even if I may temporarily resist your suggestions. I’m still trying to track down those narcotics for next time.

  Thanks to all the copy editors and proofreaders who went over this manuscript with a fine-tooth comb (including Lauren, James, and Kellie). A special thanks to Philip Pascuzzo for the totally adorable cover.

  Thank you to the best agent ever, Sarah Younger of the Nancy Yost Literary Agency, for making me feel like I’m your only client, and for being my partner in making my professional dreams come true.

  For my children—by the time this book comes out, two of you will be away at college, and I’m afraid it will feel like half my heart is missing.

  And Kevin, for yesterday, for now, for forever.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sariah Wilson has never jumped out of an airplane, has never climbed Mount Everest, and is not a former CIA operative. She has, however, been madly, passionately in love with her soul mate and is a fervent believer in happily ever afters—which is why she writes romance. She grew up in Southern California, graduated from Brigham Young University (go Cougars!) with a semi-useless degree in history, and is the oldest of nine (yes, nine) children. She currently lives with the aforementioned soul mate and their four children in Utah, along with two cats named Pixel and Callie, who do not get along. (The cats, not the children. Although the children sometimes have their issues, too.) For more information, visit her website at www.SariahWilson.com.

 

 

 
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