He rolled over, practically groaning aloud. This was not what he needed.
Living here was supposed to be a step forward for him. He’d managed to talk his way into a solid job where he’d be able to prove he was steady, dependable, and good at something besides playing high school baseball—which, he’d quickly discovered, didn’t really count in the real world. People were relying on him. All of Thunder was relying on him. Now that he had a chance to live somewhere for a few months without dealing with anyone’s messes, he’d better not go creating his own by thinking about his new roommate like that.
What had just happened was an accident. It didn’t matter that Talia’s best friend hardly matched his memory. He’d gotten too close to her friends before, and he wasn’t making that mistake twice. If the way Jessie had booted him out of her room was any indication, they were never going to speak of their little mix-up again.
All he needed to do was keep his hands to himself…and his mind in check.
But it was a lot harder to keep his resolve the next morning when he saw her in the kitchen brewing coffee. The loose tank top from last night was gone. She was smartly dressed in a charcoal skirt, cream-colored blouse, and tortoiseshell glasses. Her hair was smoothed into dark waves down her back.
He had an almost uncontrollable urge to run his hands through it and mess it all up.
She must not have wanted to hang out around the apartment in her pajamas after last night. He’d thrown on a T-shirt and shorts to be safe, but he didn’t own full-on armor—not like that. She’s already seen a whole lot more of me, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like hanging around in shorts was over the top.
“Morning,” he said, heading straight for the coffeemaker and trying to seem normal. “I know I’m not the only one who didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I was trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake you up.”
“What?” he said. “Oh, no. You were quiet as a mouse.”
He smiled, then checked himself. Was he flirting with her by calling her a mouse? No, definitely not. He wasn’t teasing—just trying to be friendly. There was a difference. Right?
He nudged by her to get to the fridge. But the kitchen was so small, he had to brush by her once to get the orange juice, and then again to put it away. He hoped she knew that was Brooklyn’s fault, not his. He wasn’t trying to pull anything.
“I assumed you’d sleep in,” Jessie said. She raised her hand, and he thought she was going to reach for him—to touch him? A good morning hug? But then she did a little get with the program tilt with her head, and he realized what an idiot he was. She was gesturing to get to the mugs. Unlike him, she wasn’t going to risk bodily contact while getting her coffee.
“Sorry,” he said, stepping to the side. “I—”
“It’s really cramped in here,” she said apologetically, as though it were her fault that he was in the way.
“No, you’re fine!” He said it way too quickly. Why was everything coming out wrong? He never thought of himself as awkward. He could talk to anyone. He could certainly flirt with anyone, whether they were in tank tops or pencil skirts or anything in between.
But something about Jessie was making him tongue-tied, like he could barely remember how to talk. Maybe it was because flirting was so easy. He did it even when he wasn’t trying. Not flirting was proving to be a whole lot more difficult.
But Jessie didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping things appropriate. “Coffee?” she asked, getting the mugs down.
“Please. I need it.”
He saw her swallow. Should he not have given any reminder as to why he was so tired? Why she must have been tired, too? She seemed so tense. Was that because of him? Or was she always this high-strung?
And why the fuck was he thinking about it so much?
He let her pour the coffee and added milk to his, then hers, too, when she nodded for him to go for it.
“I have to get in to work,” he said, to explain why he was up. In the morning. At a perfectly normal time for normal people to be awake—even if he hadn’t willingly seen the sun before noon since…he had no idea when.
Jessie looked surprised. “Already?” she said, like she could sense the “I don’t have my shit together” all over him. Like he was coated in it and would never be clean.
“Um.” He took too-large a sip of coffee, scalding his tongue. Did she not believe him or something? “Yeah, like I said. I start today.”
“Oh.” She looked flustered. “Sorry, I just assumed that you’d…”
She looked around the kitchen, as though the coffeemaker could help.
“That I’d what?” he asked, genuinely curious what she thought of him.
“That we wouldn’t see each other in the mornings, I guess.” He had to lean in closer to hear her because she was practically mumbling into her mug.
What was that supposed to mean? That she’d been hoping they could avoid each other all summer? That she figured he sat around on his ass all day, so what was he doing awake? That she’d never forgiven him for being a selfish horndog a million years ago?
“Talia once mentioned something about you working at a bar,” she said, the tips of her ears turning the sweetest shade of pink, the only pop of color in an ensemble of what Shawn always thought of as Office Worker Gray.
“It’s a brewery, actually,” he said, because he thought that sounded better. “I’m the new assistant.”
Someone essential to the operation. Someone with a career ahead of him. As opposed to someone who was getting too old to be so clueless about basic stuff. Like, say, what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. The kind of College 101 stuff he should have been thinking about all along, and not just batting averages and who was going to pick up the keg. Stuff Jessie had probably known about herself since birth.
“That’s really cool,” she said, sipping her coffee. “It sounds like fun.”
He had no idea whether she actually believed that or was just humoring him, given that they were crammed together in the kitchen, he was the new roommate she’d never agreed to in the first place, and it was obviously better to say something—anything—than to have to acknowledge that they’d just recently seen each other in their underwear.
“It’s called Thunder Brewing. It’s in Red Hook. Ever heard of it?”
She shook her head.
“This branch is new,” he said. “I was at their main location in Santa Fe, but the owner, Kevin, needed someone to come out to Brooklyn to work with Jean, the woman who runs everything out east. Things are growing so fast, it was better to bring in someone who already knows how the business is run.”
“Sounds like they need you,” Jessie said.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m here.” He tried to grin like it was all going according to plan. Admitting that Kevin only promoted him because he didn’t have any better options wouldn’t exactly win him any points with his new roommate.
But Jessie wasn’t pursing her lips or eyeing him skeptically like she knew he was lying through his teeth. She wasn’t even glancing at her phone or fiddling with the controls to a video game or looking around the room for someone better to talk to. She was just…listening. Present in front of him. Half-leaning against the refrigerator door as he draped an elbow on the counter, casually talking.
“You’re starting today, too?” he asked. “Talia told me,” he added when he saw her surprise.
She smoothed down the front of her skirt. “I sort of can’t believe it,” she said.
“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”
“Like a herd of elephants is stampeding in my stomach. You?”
“Nah.” He winked. “I’m good.” Sort of. “You don’t look it,” he added, appraising how put together she seemed, how totally with it and in control. “You look really collected.” He was being genuine. If he hadn’t heard her shriek in the night, he wouldn’t have believed that anything could throw off her game. He need
ed to channel some of that today.
“Thanks. I don’t feel it at all.” She paused. “Actually, I feel like I’m going to be sick.” She made a face at her coffee. “I hate being this nervous.”
“What’s the job?”
“I’m an assistant editor for a publishing company. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, so I should be excited, you know? But I’m not.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m even admitting this. But I’m fucking terrified.”
The sudden curse surprised him—as did her honesty—and he laughed. “I’m not laughing at you,” he said when he saw her face. “I just didn’t expect you to say that.” He paused, eyeing her up and down. “You don’t look like anyone could scare you today.”
“Good. That’s what I’m going for.”
“The unfuckwithable look,” he said.
Jessie bit her lip like she was trying not to smile. “Even if I’m totally not.”
“Not even a little?”
She shrugged. “Fake it till you make it?”
Shawn shook his head. “No way.”
“What are you talking about? Yes, way.”
He paused, running his eyes over her again. He knew he should be good. He was trying to be good. But her teeth tugged on her lip, wisps of curls sprang up around her face, and he couldn’t help himself. “Promise me you don’t fake it when it matters.”
He was rewarded with a flush of pink up her face.
“Pretty sure that’s none of your business,” she said hotly. But her blush was still going strong.
She downed her coffee and put the mug in the sink. “I should go,” she said, studiously avoiding his gaze.
“Wait.” He ducked to try to catch her eye. “What about breakfast?”
She shook her head. “I told you. Elephant stampede.” She patted her stomach, which wound up tugging on her top, accentuating the swell of her breasts under the creamy silk of her blouse.
Now he was the one with his eyes darting away. Make eye contact. Don’t flirt. Don’t be an asshole. It’s your sister’s best friend. Not to mention, you have to live with her. And you have other priorities now.
“You have to eat something,” he said. “Assistant editors can’t be hangry at the office.”
Jessie laughed. “Hangry?”
“Don’t act like you’ve never seen Talia after a rehearsal.” He made a face, which made her laugh harder. See? This was safer—talk about Talia, who they both had in common, and keep things on neutral ground. It was the reminder he needed to cool it with checking her out.
“Come on,” he said. “At least a piece of toast.”
He reached for a loaf of bread on the counter, but she shook her head. “Marlene will kill me if I’m late on day one.”
“Marlene?”
“My new boss. The terrifying one.”
He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s barely seven. What time do you have to be in?”
“I want to be early. In case something happens on the subway.”
“An hour early?” he asked skeptically. “Two hours early?”
That blush again. “I like to be on time.”
Okay, so maybe she was a little crazy—and totally the opposite of him, his sister, and anyone he knew. She was still gorgeous. And she still needed to eat.
“How about you take it with you,” he offered.
“Talia definitely doesn’t pay this much attention to whether or not I’ve had breakfast,” she mused, eyeing him like she somehow thought he was pulling her leg.
“Good. You can tell her I’m a way better roommate than she is and that she has to up her game.”
Jessie rolled her eyes just a little. But her lips were turned up in a half smile, like she was laughing despite herself, and she waited while Shawn popped two pieces of bread into the toaster.
“What else do you need? That’s not enough.” He rooted through the cabinets while Jessie stood there, arms folded, watching him with that bemused smirk on her face.
“I’m both excited and a little scared of what you’re going to come up with,” she said.
He pulled a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet and raised an eyebrow in question. She nodded.
“Awesome,” he said. “Jam?”
Jessie got it from the fridge, and he made two slices of peanut butter toast with strawberry jam—which he’d already guessed they’d have, since he knew it was his sister’s favorite. Everywhere, there were little traces of Talia, like the New York City Ballet mug and the brand of orange juice she preferred. It was weird to feel like she was everywhere but not see her. When he passed Jessie her piece of toast on a napkin to take with her to go, it felt like Talia was watching him, scrutinizing, making sure he didn’t stand too close.
“Thanks,” Jessie said, clearly unplagued by any of the not-PG-13 thoughts in his head as he tried, and failed yet again, to stop staring at her curves under her blouse.
She took a bite, then moved around him to get out of the kitchen and on with the rest of her life. Exactly like he should be doing if he wanted to get to Thunder early enough to meet Jean, get his bearings, and dive right in.
That was the only reason he’d told himself he’d better get out of bed when he’d heard Jessie get in the shower and then head to the kitchen. It wasn’t because he wanted to see her again before their schedules were completely off and they settled into being the strangers they had always been.
Even if he did want to see her, just a little, that was only because he was trying to be a considerate roommate, to make things less uncomfortable than his disastrous introduction last night.
He was just trying to be a good guy. Not the guy Jessie had once known.
Which was also why he blocked her from leaving the kitchen right as she was about to reach for her blazer and a leather bag propped on a chair.
“Hold up one sec,” he said.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “I know I’m not actually going to be late,” she said, more than a little defensively. “But I don’t want to be stressed out about making it on time, so I’m just going to leave now. I know you think it’s weird, but the subway could be delayed or there could be a stalled train or anything could happen.”
“That’s not it,” he said. “You have a little—”
“What?” she asked.
“It’s just a bit of—”
He wiped the edge of his lip. Her eyes widened. Quickly she used the napkin to wipe her mouth as she held the toast in her other hand.
But there was a smear of peanut butter left on the napkin that wound up on her. He tried not to laugh at how she’d made it worse.
“Here,” he said, stepping closer. “Let me.”
She looked up at him as though too startled to back away. Or maybe it was just that they were in the doorway and he’d given her nowhere to go.
He took his thumb and pressed it to the edge of her lower lip. Slowly, carefully, he wiped up the smear.
“There,” he said, not breaking eye contact. “Now you’re unfuckwithable.”
She stood there for another second, not saying anything, not moving, and he swore he could hear her exhale.
“Thanks,” she finally said, but like that wasn’t quite what she meant at all.
He stepped aside, giving her plenty of space to pass him in the doorway. He’d grazed her leg last night. And now, his thumb touched her lips. It wasn’t like he was all over her. It was innocent.
Unintentional.
But he pictured Talia in the apartment with them, watching their exchange, and he could imagine her brown eyes narrowing as though he’d already done something wrong.
Jessie grabbed her things, slipped on her shoes, and picked up her keychain hanging on a peg by the door.
“See you later,” she said as she opened the door. “Thanks for the toast.”
“Knock Marlene’s socks off,” he said.
“You, too,” she said, then made a face. “I mean with Jean. At your job. Obviously.” She thr
ew up her hands.
He grinned. “I’ll certainly try.”
“Hey—” She paused in the doorway to ask, “Will you be home tonight? I mean, you don’t have to be,” she added. “Just, you know, wondering.”
“I’ll be late,” he said. “My official shift doesn’t start until the afternoon. I just wanted to get in early today to meet with Jean—there’s a lot to go over before starting.”
She nodded. “Gotcha. Well, you have a key now and everything. So, I guess I’ll see you…whenever.”
He was about to say he was already looking forward to breakfast tomorrow when she closed the door and was gone.
He stood there in the empty room, not moving, wondering what, exactly, was wrong with him, when he realized he was licking the peanut butter from his thumb, thinking not about grains and malts and hops like he should have been, but about how soft Jessie Santana’s lips were when he touched them.
Shit.
Chapter Five
Jessie turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the apartment. She was exhausted, her shoulder ached from carrying so many books home on the subway, and she wanted to rip off her skirt, toss it in a bonfire, and never wear anything without a drawstring for the rest of her life.
Too bad that would not be on the list of Official Items Sanctioned by Marlene Chen for the Quality and Commitment Associated with Honeywell Press. The parts of her day where she’d been alone in her cubicle, actually working, had been priceless. The parts where Marlene was scrutinizing her every move, not so much.
She knew Shawn had said he’d be home late, but she still felt a pang when she walked into the darkened apartment and saw that it was empty. She’d survived the first full day at her dream job, not quite as unfuckwithable as she’d wanted to be, but not a total disaster. Only there was no one to come home to, no Talia throwing her arms around her and asking how it was. And no Shawn with his soft eyes and his hard jaw and his sly little grins, like he was about to start laughing at a joke that only he knew.
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that his schedule hadn’t changed at the last minute. Relieved, she told herself firmly. Definitely relieved. What she needed was to unwind, make dinner, pour a monster glass of wine, and dive into the first stack of papers Marlene had given her to review.
Wrong Bed, Right Roommate (Accidental Love) Page 3
