The Temporary Roomie: A Romantic Comedy (It Happened in Nashville Book 2)

by Sarah Adams

  He leans forward, his smooth jaw brushing against my face as he whispers, “You are absolutely beautiful.”

  His raspy, quiet, meant-only-for-me voice tears its way through my fragile emotions and wrecks me in the process. Drew pulls back but hovers closer to my face than we’ve ever been. I could bump his nose with mine. I smell his masculine cologne, see the black flecks in his navy eyes, feel a string pulling tight between our mouths. I could tip forward just the slightest bit and our lips would touch. They need to touch.

  I thank my lucky stars when a voice calls out from beside us and slices our moment in half. “Dr. Marshall!”

  Drew and I pull apart, but he doesn’t let me remove my hand from his. He introduces me to his female colleague who interrupted us. Dr. Susan Landry is her name, and I think I’m supposed to know who she is, but my mind just says, Blah, blah, blah, Drew’s hand feels so good in my hand. What a manly hand he has. I want to hold it up to my face and stare at it. It’s a big hand, which every woman knows only adds to the allure of a man.

  Wow, how long have I been thinking about Drew’s hands? A while, I suspect, because now both Drew and Dr. Landry are looking at me and I’m not sure what to say. I blink at the woman. “So sorry. Pregnancy brain. I missed what you said.”

  She laughs, and her kind smile is disarming. I relax a little. “I was just saying I’m so happy to meet Drew’s girlfriend! He’s talked so much about you this past week.”

  Yeah, that’s jarring to hear. Surprisingly, it’s not unpleasant, but definitely jarring. I look up at Drew and see the slightest widening of his eyes. Apparently, I speak Drew’s eye language now, because I understand that this is the one we are meant to be in a fake relationship for.

  Keeping my hand locked with Drew’s, I take the other and wrap it around his bicep, leaning into him and hugging his arm. And GEEZ DREW. He has a ridiculous muscle under here. I’m definitely distracted by how my body is reacting to Drew’s body right now, but I press on with a polite smile and begin to set my trap.

  “Only this past week, baby? Well, I guess you would have more to talk about since we finally moved in together.”

  Dr. Landry’s eyebrows rise. “Oh wow. That’s serious. Congratulations you two. But I guess you have even more to be congratulated on besides a housewarming.” Her eyes fall to my stomach, and for some reason, Drew and I never discussed how to handle this part of the ruse. My instinct says he would want me to make sure everyone knows it’s not his child, but guess what, bud? You stood me up, and it’s time to pay.

  I rub my belly and stare up at him like my entire universe dangles off his pinky. “Thank you. I hope the baby has Drew’s eyes. I’ve never seen a blue so deep.”

  Drew’s face goes a little pale and his arm stiffens beneath my touch. Oops! Did your lie just get a little more complicated, Drewsky-Woosky?

  He smiles tensely. “Not sure how that will be possible,” he says with a slight chuckle, clearly trying to let our dear Susan know he’s not about to become a biological father.

  I also know from the time I’ve spent around Drew since Lucy and Cooper have become an item that he despises PDA. Every time they kiss or snuggle, Drew grimaces.

  Which is why I sidle up even closer and nuzzle his earlobe with the tip of my nose (and for the record, I have zero problems with PDA, but this is even making me nauseated). “Stop trying to keep your hopes down. Babies end up with their daddy’s eyes all the time.”

  “Aw—well, you guys are just too…” I can see Dr. Landry struggle with the word. “Sweet. Congrats to you both, and I’ll see you at the table for dinner.”

  “See you over there,” Drew says in a calm, polite voice. When she’s far enough away, he looks sharply down at me, his voice nothing even close to calm or polite. “What the hell was that?”

  “What?” I blink up at him innocently. I’m just a little lamb out to pasture.

  Drew looks around and must realize there are too many people still within earshot, so he extracts his arm from my grip and puts his hand on my low back, steering us toward the bathrooms, though not the ones where I was previously hiding. No, he somehow manages to find us a private single stall bathroom.

  Once we’re in, he locks the door behind us, and now I’m stuck in this tiny cell with the most attractive man alive. But I won’t kiss him. I WON’T. The name of the game tonight is to put Drew Marshall back in his rightful place, somewhere far, far away from my mind and heart.

  “What was all that back there?” His voice is low and rumbly, and his dress shoes click against the floor as he advances closer to me.

  I take a retreating step, and my back hits the wall. “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to be your girlfriend.”

  “You almost sucked on my earlobe. That’s taking it a little far, don’t you think?”

  I shrug, not wanting to tip him off too early. “Okay, so you don’t like your women to be affectionate—got it. I won’t give you a hickey at the table.”

  His eyes narrow. “I like affection, for the record. Just not quite so much in the middle of a conversation with a colleague.”

  “It’s okay to not like affection. Some people aren’t good at it, and that’s fine.” Why am I goading him like this?

  His eyes flare and he steps so close the tips of his shoes touch the tips of mine. Also, my belly is grazing the front of his suit jacket, and somehow that feels incredibly intimate. “I’m perfectly good at showing affection. No—actually I’m great at it. If I wanted to”—his eyes drop to my mouth—“I could show you the best damn affection of your life.”

  Show me!

  No…don’t show me.

  SHOW ME.

  “I don’t know. You seem awfully defensive to me.”

  He looks up at me and smiles—a wolf dressed in a designer suit. “You’re taunting me right now. Why is that, Jessica?” His hand rises to land on the wall behind me, pinning me in place. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and tell myself, DO NOT GIVE IN, WOMAN. “Almost seems like you’re playing a game with me right now. What’s the outcome you’re hoping for?”

  I angle my chin up like a dagger even though all I want is to melt against him. “I don’t know…what do you think it should be?”

  He’s quiet for three breaths, and because he’s so close, I can feel all three of them against my lips. The tension between us is tangible and humming through every inch of me. I want to grab the front of Drew’s shirt and pull his face down that last inch, but instead, I keep my hands splayed out against the bathroom wall, willing them to stay put.

  “Why did you let Susan think this is my child?”

  The question shakes me momentarily, and I hope he doesn’t see it on my face. “I—I thought that was what you wanted. Really sells the devoted girlfriend story.”

  “Is that the real reason?”

  No. The real reason is because I want to tangle him in a lie so tight that when he finally has to get out of it, he will be humiliated. That’s the real reason. It’s step one.

  …isn’t it?

  “Mmhmm,” I hum, still not fully able to keep myself from glancing down at his mouth, unwilling to stop myself from imagining what a kiss from him would be like. Firm? Sweet? Tender? Harsh?

  NO. BAD, JESSIE.

  Drew’s lips curve upward because I’ve been staring and he knows why. One of his hands lower to my hip, and I feel his fingers press into my side. I can’t let this happen. It would ruin everything I’m trying to achieve, and yet…

  Maybe one kiss won’t hurt anything.

  Unfortunately, a knock on the bathroom door startles both of us. Drew bites his lips against a smile as he holds my eyes for one more second before shaking his head and shrugging back down the cuffs of his suit jacket. Good. Perfect. No kisses tonight. Staying right on track.

  But as he raises a single eyebrow and holds out his arm for me to take, I waver in my plan of retaliation. I planned it before I came to really know Drew, before we became friends…now, I wonder if it’s worth it
. I wonder if maybe I could let myself enjoy this night as his pretend girlfriend…if I could let myself fall for Drew.

  No.

  I don’t want to.

  Drew Marshall is about to be pranked harder than he’s ever been pranked in his life.

  We are seated at the table, waiting for dinner to be served, and Jessie is fondling my ear. Not in a sensual way—although it probably looks like it’s intended to be—but it feels more like an annoying gnat pestering my face. My hands itch to swat hers away. Everyone at the table is staring at us like they are deeply disturbed, and honestly, I don’t blame them.

  I realize this is my fault though. Jessie thinks I don’t like PDA because of all the gagging I do around Lucy and Cooper, so naturally she’s going to climb all over me in public because of this unspoken tit-for-tat game we have going on between us. It’s like a human version of Battleship.

  I smile tightly and twitch my shoulder, trying to push Jessie’s hand away without the whole table realizing what I’m doing. But it’s a big round table, and they are all staring. Now, I’m just shoulder-hugging her hand, which makes me look even more lovesick and disgusting. I take a more direct approach and cover her pesky little hand with mine then lower it down to her lap, holding it tightly there.

  She squeezes my hand under the table. It says, LET GO. I squeeze back. NOT A CHANCE.

  We both flash each other a soft, smitten smile so the table believes our once-in-a-lifetime romance, but under the table, our hands are warring. Goodness, she makes me want to laugh. And kiss her.

  When I first spotted Jessie across the room tonight, my stomach dove into a free fall. She looked so classic and feminine and curvy and my heart was beating out of my chest for her. It hasn’t stopped since. I would have kissed her in the bathroom if that knock on the door hadn’t interrupted us. I wanted to more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Even now, I look over into Jessie’s forest eyes as they sparkle from the warm lighting, and I feel like groaning. I can hardly take it. I want to scoop her and her mischievous smile up and take her home.

  The table continues to buzz with medical talk like it has been ever since we sat down, and I’m hoping once our dinner arrives, everyone will give the constant jargon a rest. That’s the major flaw of doctors all grouped together for social events: we can’t talk about anything besides medicine. It’s how we’re hardwired. So many years devoted to nothing but studying and learning and memorizing as much as possible will do that to a person. Back in school, when everyone else was partying and socializing, our noses were deep in a textbook. The most social contact we had was a study group, which is basically what this is now. An ultra-elegant study group.

  I know Jessie has to be bored to death. Maybe if the conversation were more interesting, she’d be less determined to pinch her way out of my hand. Her fingers are like a little crab scurrying across the sand.

  “Dr. Marshall, I’ve been meaning to ask you—what happened to your eye?” Susan says from across the table. Of course Susan would notice it. It’s more of a slight greenish-shadowy bruise now than it was a week ago when Jessie gave it to me. For some reason, I’ve loved this black eye. I love that Jessie gave it to me. I love that when I look in the mirror, I remember the sheen of terror in her green eyes when she thought she’d really hurt me. It was the first time she had ever looked at me without a mask of indifference or hatred.

  Jessie lights up at this question. She gives an overindulgent smile, flashes her eyes wide in excitement, and props her elbow under her chin like someone’s just told her I’m about to jump on the table and give everyone a striptease.

  Too bad for Jessie, if she plans to take me down, I’m dragging her with me.

  I lean forward, a conspiring grin in place, and tilt my head toward her. “I try not to kiss and tell, but truth is, this one got a little overeager in the—” My sentence is cut off when Jessie’s foot collides with my shin and she shoots me a dark look.

  “Kitchen,” she finishes for me, not breaking eye contact. “I opened a cabinet right into his face by accident.” Something in her gaze promises her statement will come to fruition if I continue, but it won’t be on accident.

  Everyone hums their understanding, but it’s clear they don’t believe her. My seed was planted, and her face is turning into boiling lava. I feel triumphant. Smiling, I lean toward Jessie to…to what? I don’t know exactly. All I’m conscious of is my need to get closer to her. To run my finger over her blushing cheek. To kiss her. To hold her. Her narrowed eyes soften and her lips part slightly. We’re trapped in this moment together, and everything I’m feeling, she’s feeling too. If I could just lean a little—

  A hand claps against my back. Of course. “Drew? Ah—I thought that might be you!”

  I’m ready to murder whoever just interrupted this moment between us when I look up into the eyes of my old mentor of sorts from med school. Despite him being a teaching physician at the time, Richard was one of my first friends in the medical world, and he’s likely the only person who can escape my murderous intentions in this circumstance. Once I had decided to focus on obstetrics and gynecology, he was the one I went to with my concerns about being a young male in the profession, afraid I’d never get any patients. He laughed and told me he would only let me soak his shoulder with tears once I tried being a gay black man in the medical field, or a woman in the same profession having to work twice as hard to prove herself just as capable as a man. I liked him immediately. Dr. Green taught me the best thing I could ever do as a male OB-GYN was shut my mouth and listen to the women around me. I’m good at applying this principle in my practice, though not always so much in my personal life.

  “Dr. Green, it’s good to see you,” I say, standing to shake his and Mr. Green’s hands. “And Henry,” I say, addressing Richard’s husband. “How are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you two since Dr. Green’s retirement party.” It’s when I look down at our clasped hands that I realize how red mine is thanks to my little pincher crab. I slide my gaze over to Jessie and see her sitting demurely, hands resting in her lap like a patient angel, but I know she’s seen the pinch marks because her lips are pressed together, holding back a fierce laugh.

  If Henry notices the odd red splotches, he ignores them with grace. “I don’t feel like we see anyone since Richard retired.” He tosses him a reprimanding look. “I’ve been begging him to come out of retirement just so we can go places again. He compromised by letting us come tonight.”

  Richard laughs and guides Henry around the table to take the two available seats closest to me and Jessie. He pulls a chair out for Henry, making me wonder belatedly if I did that for Jessie. Richard looks at Henry with narrowed eyes after they’ve taken their seats.

  “And force you to miss me again during all of those long work days? Never.”

  Henry looks to Jessie and me with extra wide eyes and a mocking smile. “So considerate of him.”

  We all laugh, and then, trying to be discrete, I cut my eyes to Jessie, hoping she won’t look bored. Because for some reason, I want her to enjoy being here with me—meeting my colleagues and the people who were so integral in the early years of my career. When my eyes land on her, my heart jolts. Her head is tilted softly to the side, and her green eyes are sparkling with a genuine smile. She looks happy.

  I don’t realize I have fully turned my face to openly stare at Jessie for goodness knows how long until Henry’s voice shocks me into reality.

  “Drew, who is this beautiful young woman you’re so fondly gazing at?” he asks, a note of mischief in his eye, like he was excited to call me out in front of everyone.

  Without a second thought, I raise my arm to lay it over the back of Jessie’s chair and run my thumb against the side of her shoulder. I notice her look down to where I’m tracing a lazy pattern against her skin, and I could swear her skin flushes. See, I can do affection.

  Jessie looks up at me quickly, and her eyes search my face like she wants to see for herself the look Henry was ref
erring to. Except, she doesn’t look happy about it at all. Am I imagining it, or does she tuck her shoulder in so I can’t brush my fingers against it anymore?

  “This is…my girlfriend, Jessica Barnes. Jessie, this is Dr. Richard Green and his husband Henry. Dr. Green was my mentor in medical school.”

  Jessie’s gorgeous, full lips tip into a soft smile, and that’s that. She welcomes them into her friend group with an ease she never gave me, and I have to try very hard not to be jealous. But I am. I’m jealous and wondering what I needed to do from the beginning to get the same sweet treatment as Richard and Henry. Maybe if that day when she showed up ready to fight me on Lucy’s behalf I had just kissed her then and there, we could have avoided all this unpleasant dueling.

  But even as I think of all that “unpleasant dueling”, I’m smiling, because truthfully, I needed it. I haven’t realized until this moment how weary I had become of my constant need to remain professional and put together. Even in my family, I’m the one who solves problems, the responsible one, the guy who’s always ready to help when they need me. And don’t get me wrong, I love being that guy. It suits me well, but sometimes I just need a break from it. There’s never been any other force in my life to show me there’s a different way or what I’m missing…until Jessie. After living, fighting, and playing with her, I realize just how deprived I’ve been of pointless joy. Laughter for the hell of it. Smiling just because I feel like it. It’s been good, and I don’t want it to end.

  As fast friends, Richard, Henry, and Jessie all make a pact to call each other by their first names, and Henry wastes no time scooting his chair a little closer to Jessie and diving into a long series of get-to-know-you questions. Richard and I head over to the open bar to bring drinks back to the table and spend the next twenty minutes catching up. I try to stay focused on the conversation, but Henry keeps laughing at things Jessie says and I can’t help but glance over frequently. Jessie’s dimpled smile kicks me in the stomach each time I see it, and I wish I could lean over and kiss it. I realize how much more enjoyable these events would be if she always came with me. Jessie even manages to get the rest of the table to ditch their professional medical talk as she animatedly tells a story about when she accidentally cut off the tip of someone’s ear in hair school and then convinced one of the EMTs and the poor guy missing part of his body to let her come into the ambulance and help bandage it up. She walked away from the incident with BOTH of those guys’ numbers. Only Jessie could manage something like that.