Dear Roomie

by Kate Meader

  She could still head back by New Year on a tourist visa and see more of the country, but her placement in the school would be pushed back to the next semester. Luckily she was saving money because of the free room and board and the additional dog-walking clients, as well as some personal errand gigs. She could afford to bum around Asia for a few months except …

  She was starting to like the current situation.

  With Bucky.

  With Reid.

  So used to being on the move, she had forgotten the pleasures of sitting still for a moment—and not just with yoga. Sharing a meal with someone whose company you enjoyed, watching TV and looking over to see if he got that joke, leaving Post-its and texts for each other about the most mundane things … the comfort in it was tempting.

  Too tempting.

  It would be so easy to get attached. The root of all suffering, right?

  And they hadn’t even banged yet!

  She heard the TV come on, which meant Reid must have returned from one of his twenty thrice-daily trips to the gym. She headed out, needing to talk to him anyway, determined not to be swayed by his thick thighs and awesome pecs and blue-on-blue eyes.

  “Reid, could I have a word?”

  “Sure.” He gave her his full attention from his spot on the sofa.

  “My car is outside in the residents’ parking. And it … works.”

  His look was so fucking what? Also known as Reid Scowl No. 5.

  “Did you take my car to the mechanic and pay to get it fixed?”

  “Oui.”

  She had planned to pay for a tow-truck this morning. It would bite into a chunk of her savings but she needed that car to get around for the next few weeks. When she found it in a different spot outside and turned the key in the ignition, it started up just fine.

  “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. I gave game tickets to the guy.”

  Oh. If he didn’t pay money, she couldn’t get huffy about it. “Thanks for doing that. It was really kind.”

  His cheeks flushed. “You need the car. You’re a busy woman.”

  “It was still a nice thing to do.”

  He nodded curtly, a sign that the gratitude fest needed to end now. That should have been enough, but something inside her chest couldn’t let it go. Something inside her chest was rearing up in response.

  Reid fixed her car. The car she had lived in for three—no, four—days. The car she needed to get to the jobs that paid for her crappy boxes of mac and cheese. The car she needed to see Edie.

  “What’s wrong?” That deep voice sounded so close, and then she realized it was. Or he was. He had eaten the gap between sofa and woman and was now regarding her with a hybrid of concern and horror.

  “I—” She sniffed, but it was too late. The tears had already burst the dam around her heart. “I’m sorr—” Her words were muffled by a wall of steel: Reid’s amazing chest. His arms caged her in the best way possible. All in. No hesitation.

  “What did I do wrong, Kennedy?” The words were a hot puff of breath against her scalp.

  “Nothing,” she sniffed. Everything. “It’s just been a rough couple of weeks. I hadn’t realized how much I depend on that car and your kindness took me by surprise.”

  “Unexpected from the cranky roommate, huh?” He drew back, still holding on, but his eyes watched her closely. The words were light, the gaze anything but.

  “Just kindness in general, not the source.”

  “You know I said you only had to ask me to hold you. Comfort you. I’m not the best with speeches but I can listen and give out hugs.”

  She wrapped her arms around him tightly and felt him relax into her in return. “You’re good at this roommate business.”

  They held each other for a few minutes, and it never got awkward. Unless you counted the bolt of lust that slammed through her and was now boomeranging around for another pass.

  Enough. She would have to see if someone else might be willing to give her a good clearing of the pipes. Maybe Bryan, one of her dog-walking clients, who was always asking her to stop for a drink after she dropped Smoky the Yorkshire terrier off. Recently-divorced, a bit older, very fit …

  Bucky nuzzled her leg. “Someone wants attention,” she said.

  “I’d better take him out for a spin. Did you want to come?”

  Yes, please!

  But he actually meant for a walk. The bracing November air would probably be effective in calming her down, but she needed to be alone. Fifteen minutes with Reid and Bucky out of the house would be enough for her to take care of business.

  At her hesitation, he spoke up. “Sorry, it’s your night off and I’m asking you to work.”

  “Oh, no, not at all.”

  “You relax. We’ll be back soon.” He smiled, a move that sent a pulse to a spot that did not need blood flow right now. Within sixty seconds he and Bucky were out the door—and Kennedy was headed to her room for some much needed relief with her battery-operated friend.

  About six minutes in, she was close, so close, so—

  “Kennedy!”

  They were back already? Frustrated, she pulled her yoga pants up, hid her tool (ha!) in the nightstand, and put her head out the door.

  A surprising sight greeted her—two very dirty boys. The left side of Reid’s sweatpants and Henley was caked in mud. Bucky was even worse. He looked like he’d fought a dirty puddle and the puddle won.

  “What happened?”

  Reid looked down at Bucky who looked up at Reid, and it was so damn cute she wanted to hug them both. “This guy decided he wanted to jump in some wet leaves, which turned out to be muddy wet leaves. When I tried to grab his leash, I lost my balance.” He held up mud-streaked hands.

  “Reid Durand, Ice-Dancing Superstar, losing his balance?”

  “It was slippery and I wasn’t reckoning on this scoundrel going rogue. I think he saw a rat.” He gave her an up-down look that seemed to see everything. “What were you doing?”

  “Just getting ready to … uh, take a shower.”

  As she spoke Reid reached behind his back and pulled his Henley over his head in that one-hand move guys must have embedded in their DNA.

  Kennedy’s body had been humming before, but now graduated to a full-scale vroom-vroom.

  Those muscles could not be real.

  She had seen him in shirts, sweaty and not, but this was the first time she’d encountered naked, hard-blocked flesh. Add to that thick, corded muscle on those delicious, hairy forearms.

  “I’ll have to run a bath. Could you help me out?”

  A bath. Her skin tightened at the notion of soapy, sudsy water trickling down her body … or Reid’s body. Yes, Reid’s muscle-packed, perfectly-sculpted, lickable body.

  “Help you?” She felt a touch dizzy.

  “With the bath? Only, I don’t know if regular soap is okay for dogs.” He frowned at her. “For Bucky?”

  Right. Bucky. “Sure! The bath! I bought some special shampoo for him earlier. There are oils in his coat that we don’t want to strip.” She headed to the bathroom, anxious for a task to occupy her dirty, dirty mind.

  “Is he going to be difficult, I wonder?” Reid sounded a little pleased at the prospect. Like he had an image of how a dog should behave and mischief was preferred.

  “He might be,” she called out from the bathroom. “Dogs don’t usually like it. But if they roll around in mud like this scamp did, they have to accept the consequences.”

  True to his billing, Bucky was indeed difficult. He didn’t want to be a good boy and just get into the warm, soapy water. Kennedy sat at the side of the tub testing the temperature with drifting fingertips while Reid loomed over her with big hands on trim hips. There was something rather appealing about looking up at him like this, and not just because he was shirtless and the view was top-notch. Something in the nature of being a supplicant, she supposed, especially when Reid pointed at the hot tub.

  “In, Bucky. You stink.” He said
it so gently that he may as well have been telling the puppy that he loved him. Of course, every word Reid spoke to Bucky was love.

  “Maybe lift him?”

  Reid scooped him up, but he squirmed and yelped as soon as he got closer to the water.

  “Perhaps he’s flashing back to his trauma in the lake.”

  Reid’s concern was palpable. Kennedy loved how his whole demeanor changed around Bucky.

  Later she would insist to the court of sex opinion that she wanted to help Bucky overcome any fears he might have about being deposited in a large body of water.

  “He might feel better if one of us was in there with him.”

  Reid’s brow wrinkled. “Really?”

  “Yeah, it might put him at ease.”

  At which point all Kennedy’s dreams came true and Reid Durand dropped his sweat pants. She didn’t even have to ask!

  Not the underwear, though, but hell, wasn’t that a sight to behold. And remember, she was seated on the bathroom floor with the perfect view of this Adonis’s log-cracking thighs and quarter-bouncing buns. All of which was just the undercard to the main event: a perfectly-crafted ridge that bulged against the silky black fabric of his boxer briefs.

  While he was distracted picking up Bucky, she took the opportunity to memorize for later. Because there would be a later, a time where she would be dreaming about this man’s body and that cock filling and stretching her good.

  Reid stepped over the lip of the bathtub into the water and with absolutely perfect balance, sat down while holding the puppy safely until they were both submerged—Reid to his waist and Bucky to his shoulders. Reid held him firm, setting him carefully down until his paws touched the tub’s floor.

  “Nice job!” Kennedy grabbed some of the shampoo, anxious to give her hands something to do. She knew what they’d be doing later under the cover of her bedsheets, but for now she’d try to be the good dog nanny. “Is it too hot in there?” Because it’s a sex sauna out here.

  “No, the water’s fine. You should join us.”

  She squinted at Reid, trying to ascertain if that amounted to flirting. Reid wasn’t the flirting type, or if he was, he had yet to grace her with his banter gifts. There was an appealing quirk to his mouth.

  “Watch it, Reid. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were inviting me to get hot and wet with you.”

  No response to that, except that she had only turned herself on even more. Top of the class, Kennedy!

  Reid’s hands moved with assurance over the puppy’s body and in the process, his thumb brushed across her palm and wowza, that was quite the zing. Pushing thoughts of talented thumbs deep, she focused on the job at hand: getting Bucky clean while trying to avoid staring at Reid’s chest. The pectoral muscles appeared to be chiseled from marble. No wonder he only ate the best foods and worked so hard—look at the results.

  Yet all she could think was what a crime that he wasn’t sharing that body with someone.

  Screw someone. With her.

  “So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” When he hesitated, she said, “Not being nosey. I’ll be headed over to see Edie at Larkvale so I wanted to know if you needed me to look after Bucky.”

  “Actually, I can take him. One of my teammates, Levi Hunt, volunteers at Uptown Mission, a homeless shelter on the North side of Chicago. He asked some of the guys if they wanted to help out.”

  Not what she expected at all. “That’s amazing. Why didn’t you mention it before?”

  “To be honest, I thought you’d try to muscle your way in. You’re always helping out and volunteering for stuff. They have an animal shelter attached to it because some of the homeless have pet companions. I’ll bring Bucky along to give you a break.”

  “I don’t need a break.”

  “Yes, you do. You’ve been working every day nonstop for as long as I’ve known you. You hardly ever relax and when you do, you’re still on the clock because you’re looking after this guy.”

  “But it’s not even work.” She peered down at Bucky, who appeared to be finally enjoying himself. “You’re no trouble at all, Buck. Don’t listen to the mean man.”

  Reid smiled, and so did she, and the combination of all the things—that smile, a half-naked Reid in the hot tub, the man fixing her car, and now that same man spending Thanksgiving with the homeless—made her teary again.

  “Kennedy,” he whispered.

  “It’s okay, just some soap in my eye.” She wiped away the moisture with the back of her hand.

  “About earlier, when you got upset about me fixing your car,” he said. “Was there more to that than just unexpected kindness?”

  “Just a bit of bad news about my visa for Thailand. It might be delayed. Some paperwork mix-up.” She raised her eyes from Bucky to find Reid staring at her with nuclear bomb-level intensity. “But don’t worry, I won’t impose on you for any longer than a few more weeks.”

  “You can stay as long as you want. This is your home.”

  Was he trying to make her dissolve into a tearful puddle? Earlier she’d been thinking of those creature comforts she was starting to enjoy, and home was as good as any word to describe it. But it couldn’t be replaced. She had lost it ten years ago in a fiery blaze that destroyed everything she loved.

  “Good to know, but I promised Edie I’d stick around Chicago through the holidays and then I’ll be off traveling again, visa or no visa. By that time, Bucky should be a bit more settled but you’ll have to figure out a plan for overnights. I can look into finding someone, assuming you’re keeping him.”

  Reid had that same expression he wore the first day she’d come by for her “interview,” when she accused him of not being good enough to be a dog daddy. He had looked wounded, just like now.

  “I’m keeping him.” The way he said it sent a shiver corkscrewing down her spine—or maybe it was the dampness after being splashed by sudsy water.

  She had slipped off her cardigan so it wouldn’t get wet, which meant the cami and bra combo was winning the day. Reid was staring at her, his eyes roving over her damp breasts. He didn’t even try to hide his interest and she found herself loving the way his greedy gaze drank in her body.

  “I think he’s done. We don’t want him to prune.” She scooped Bucky up and out, and rubbed him dry with a towel. “We could give him a run with the hairdry—oh, and there he goes.” Bucky ran out of the room, probably anxious to get back to his bed or the sofa.

  Maybe the sexual tension was too thick for him.

  While she was drying Bucky, Reid had emerged from the water like a male Venus, dripping with semi-sudsy water. He stepped onto the mat and Lord help her, she would remember with embarrassment what she did next for as long as she lived.

  With the towel in her hands she swiped it over his chest, a proxy for the hands she didn’t dare use. She wanted more of those muscles, that heat, this man. Touching him properly—towel-free—would only happen at his invitation. She’d be RSVP’ing the hell out of that if she got it.

  A dip of her gaze to the space between them told her all she needed to know. That erection was … wow.

  “Might be best if I handle that myself.” He took the towel from her, as if this was a normal interaction. None of this was normal! “I’m going to take a shower.”

  Kennedy dismissed.

  Backing up, she kept her eyes on his face because to look anywhere else would turn her into a crazy, sex-starved nympho. Only his eyes were burning suns of Reid-level intensity that told her exactly what would be happening as soon as the shower spray hit those pectorals.

  She didn’t even bother with headphones back in her room. When Reid Durand came, he probably made a sound no louder than a church mouse.

  22

  Downtown Riverbrook was dressed and ready for the holidays now that Thanksgiving was a memory and Christmas was just three weeks away. This had always been her mom’s favorite time of year, and Kennedy couldn’t help but remember Libby Clark’s infectious joy as she t
rimmed, cooked, and yuletided her way through the season. Without her—without them both—it was hard to imagine ever enjoying the holidays again. There was a reason she avoided visits to the US.

  Tonight, though, Kennedy would give it a shot and try to enjoy it at a surface level. This bar was certainly festive with garlands draped over the mirrors, the staff crowned with Santa hats, and “Fairytale of New York” blasting from the speakers. Kennedy might have to buy some of those hats for her doggie clients. Bucky would look adorable in one!

  Apparently the Empty Net was the regular hangout of Rebels and their fans. Why would a famous person go to a place with the expectation of being left alone by fans, unless you didn’t want that at all? Unless you wanted to be seen and fawned over.

  Sports ball people, the strangest people of all.

  Tonight was Rebels-free as far as Kennedy could tell, but some of those present were Rebels-adjacent. Mia and Sadie were dating a couple of them, Kennedy was rooming with one of them, and Tara was—Kennedy wasn’t sure what Tara’s deal was but she definitely harbored ambitions in the Rebels’ direction.

  First, the woman was shocked to her “strong-as-shit core” that Kennedy had somehow managed to sneak her feet “under the Reid Durand king-sized bed.”

  “But she had to jump into a freezing lake and save a dog to do it,” Mia pointed out, not unreasonably.

  “She saw an opportunity and went for it.” On the back of a hilarious, faux-weepy “Way to go, Paula” rendition from An Officer and a Gentleman, Tara clinked her wine glass against Kennedy’s, still sitting on the table because she wasn’t officially acknowledging that as a valid toast. Also, twelve bucks for a glass of Pinot Grigio? She would be sticking to the one and nursing it to the bitter end.

  “Believe me, I’m not looking for a shot at Reid. He’s wide open, so have at it.”

  “But you’re living with him!”

  “As roommates. Not even friends.” Though that felt like a lie given that he’d gone out of his way to get her car fixed and had held her when she needed it. And then there was the Great Hot Tub Incident. On that last one, she suspected Reid was getting revenge for spotting her baking in her underwear. Well, joke was on him!