Not Over You: Accidental Roommates Romance

by R. S. Lively

  As soon as I go into my room, it seems all of my remaining energy is drained out of me. I only close the door halfway to make sure I can hear Grammie if she calls me from her room, and I down half of the syrupy coffee before resting the mug on top of the dresser. I once read that it takes about fifteen minutes for caffeine to get into your system, and if you're feeling tired, you should drink coffee and then lay down for a nap. By the time you wake up, the caffeine will have taken effect, and you will feel energized and ready to go. I'm not sure how much validity that has, but right now, I'm willing to do whatever it takes. As I strip off shorts and a t-shirt soaked with soapy water from dropping a pot when Grammie shouted down to me, I wonder why I'm feeling this way. Grammie has been running me ragged, but it's more than that – the sense of listlessness I was experiencing before coming here is still dragging me down.

  Down to my black bikini underwear, the crisp, clean sheets I put on my bed earlier today call out to me. I slip into them and sigh as my head sinks down into the pillow, and the cool cotton of the sun-dried sheet settles over me. Then... nothing. I sigh again, trying to convince my brain it's time to calm down and savor however many minutes of silence I might be able to steal. No matter what I do, however, the vibrant sunlight pouring through the window, and the thoughts rushing through my mind, are making it impossible for me to fall asleep. I finally let out a frustrated groan and roll out of bed.

  "Least satisfying nap ever," I grumble to myself as I grab my coffee mug again and toss the rest down my throat. "Come on, fifteen minutes is up," I say. "Wake me up."

  Not ready to head back out into the rest of the house again, I walk over to the window and move the gauzy curtains aside. Staring out over the grounds has always been one of my favorite things to do here. There usually wasn't much to watch. The world beyond the house is a picturesque landscape –mostly fields and trees, with only the occasional flutter of a bird, deer, or gust of wind to create movement. Within a few seconds of peering outside, however, Cade and Jace step into my line of vision. I look down and see that Cade is shirtless again, his incredible body glistening with sweat in the bright sunlight. I remember the power and confidence he exuded when he first came into the house a few days ago. The combination of that intensity with his strong body makes my knees feel weak, and I lean against the windowsill to watch him. I can't pull my eyes away as he picks up a piece of wood and sets it onto a stump, swinging a huge ax up and over his head to split it into two. My stomach jumps, and I bite down on my bottom lip as Cade picks up another piece of wood. I don't have any idea why, but I want to keep watching him. The halves of the piece tumble to either side of the stump as Jace steps up to move them out of the way.

  The younger blond man has been flirting with me every chance he gets – meaning whenever Cade isn't in earshot. I admit I haven't exactly discouraged him because it makes Cade squirm, but for all I care right now, Jace could be one of those chopped pieces of wood. My eyes are locked on Cade as he cuts through another of the pieces of wood. I see him say something to Jace, but I can't hear him. Jace nods, and Cade lowers the ax to the ground and walks out of view. Assuming he's fetching more lumber to process, I turn my attention back to the fields beyond the trees at the edge of the yard. I'm so lost in my thoughts I don't realize Cade is back inside the house until I hear the heavy sound of his boots echoing down the hallway toward my room.

  Whipping around and away from the window, I look at my door, realizing with horror that I left it partly open. This means as soon as Cade makes it down the hall, he’ll be able to look in and see me standing here, where I was just watching him in my bra and underwear. Without even thinking, I fling myself down onto the floor. By the time I hear Cade's voice from the direction of the doorway, I am lying flat on my stomach, my head turned away from him.

  "Fiona?" he asks. "Is everything OK?"

  Everything is fine. No big deal. Just hanging out on the floor in my underwear.

  I look over at him, trying to look as casual as possible.

  "Hey, Cade. I'm good. I'm just looking for an earring I lost when I was getting dressed."

  "You're already wearing two earrings," he says.

  I act like I'm surprised and roll onto my back so I can feel my ears.

  "Would you look at that? I didn't lose one after all. I could have sworn I felt one fall down my shirt."

  Cade's eyes drift down to my chest. I glance down and see my nipples taut and pressing against the white cotton of my bra. I tell myself it's in response to the cold of the air conditioning, and not Cade's sweaty, muscled body just across the room from me. I quickly flip back over onto my stomach and rest my chin into my hands as I prop myself up on my elbows.

  Perfect. Just keep lying on the floor in your basic bitch cotton bra and underwear. Good choices happening all over the place.

  "What are you up to? How's your wood?"

  Oh, dear Jesus.

  "Um...good. I was just coming up to let you know I’m leaving for the hardware store. They just called to let me know one of my orders has come in. Jace is staying here. I won't be gone long."

  I contemplate being defensive and telling him I don't care where he is, and that I don't need a babysitter, but realize I’m not exactly in the position to be indignant. Instead, I shoot him a grin that’s probably a few shades too close to Gacy territory, and nod.

  "Sounds great. I'll probably just stay up here."

  "That’s probably a good idea."

  He backs out of the room and closes the door, and my forehead drops down to my folded arms.

  Why the ugly cotton bra? Why? Why couldn't it have been something cute? Why didn’t I make an effort? I could have worn something colorful. Sexy. Polka dots. Even just a nice pastel. Anything but an ugly, basic cotton bra.

  Cade

  Shaking my head and fighting back a smile, I close the door to Fiona's bedroom and head back down the hallway. I notice Grammie's door is partially open and decide to stop in and see if she needs anything while I’m in town. I look in quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she's napping or falling asleep. Instead of seeing her reclined back in her bed the way she has been for the last few days, however, Grammie is all the way across the room. I step back from the door, disappearing from her view, but where I can still see into the room.

  "Grammie?" I call out.

  She grabs the TV remote from the stand and scurries back to her bed. Hopping in, she flings a blanket over her lap, drops back against the pillows, and assumes her best feeble expression.

  Oh, she got us good.

  "Yes, dear?" she calls out weakly.

  Never in all the time I've known Rose has she ever called me dear. I push the door open and step inside.

  "I wanted to check on you before heading into town," I say. “Do you need anything?”

  "That's so sweet of you," she says. “I don’t think so, though.”

  Grammie gestures for me to come closer. "Come let me see you for a minute."

  I do my best to hold back the grin threatening my lips as I walk over to her. I'm half expecting her to reach up into the air and dramatically inform me she's staring into the light. As it is, she grasps my hand and looks into my eyes meaningfully.

  "Have I told you recently how much I appreciate you?" she asks.

  "Yes, Grammie. Many times."

  "I just don't know what I would do without you," she sighs. "You're just so strong."

  "No, Grammie," I say, doing my best to keep a straight face. "You're the strong one. Look at you, facing this injury so courageously. Barely even a peep or complaint from you. You truly are an inspiration. How is your leg feeling?"

  "Oh, you know," she says, releasing my hand so she can pat her leg through the blanket. "Bones don't heal quite as well when you're as old as I am. I'm just so glad for this boot. I can't imagine how long it would take for my leg to mend without it."

  "It would be a struggle," I say with an understanding nod. "Tell me again, Grammie, how did you hurt your leg?"


  A slightly panicked look crosses her face, and I immediately know Rose has already forgotten the story she told Fiona.

  "How did I hurt myself?" she asks, stalling for time as she tries to remember the right story.

  "Yes," I say. "I don't think you ever actually told me. I think Fiona said something about gardening?"

  Grammie nods enthusiastically.

  "That's right," she says. "I was out toiling away in my garden, and I got my foot caught in a vine. I must have laid out there in the hot sun for hours before anyone found me."

  I narrow my eyes at her.

  "That's funny," I say. "I could have sworn you said you wanted me to make sure I fixed the stairs because you hurt yourself on them."

  "Right," she says, nodding even harder now. "I hurt myself while I was gardening, but then when they helped me inside…"

  "Alright, that's enough, Sophia Loren. The jig is up. I know you're faking it."

  Grammie sags against her pillows, her bottom lip sticking out in defeat.

  "Damn," she mutters. "How'd you know?"

  "I saw you running across the room. But changing how you got hurt really didn't help."

  "It was the gardening that did it, isn't it?"

  "Yeah. That's story is suspicious as hell, considering there's only one tomato plant in your garden, and it has a single tomato on it."

  "Oh," Grammie says, brightening up a little. "Harvest time."

  "Time to fess up. What is going on?"

  Grammie sits up higher in bed and lets out a sigh.

  "Alright, I'll be straight with you. I really did hurt myself."

  "Grammie…"

  "No, really. Seriously. I did. It just wasn't as bad as I thought."

  "Did it happen on the stairs?"

  "Kind of."

  "What do you mean 'kind of'?"

  "The ladies and I went out to the throwback night at the roller disco a few weeks back. Only, we all found out that quite a few of us can't disco anymore. We especially can't roller. You put them together, and… let's just say, I was doing just fine with shaking my booty and doing the hustle, but Alice did not find herself in Boogie Wonderland."

  "Let's not say that, ever again. What happened?"

  "We all ended up in one big pile in the middle of the roller rink floor. Problem was we were all wearing so many sequins, and they had just put down the disco ball, so we were shining like Glory. The little teeny-boppers they have working out there couldn't figure out where one of us ended and the other one started, so we got even more tangled, and ended up sprawled out there for almost half an hour."

  I recall the image of Fiona sprawled out on her bedroom floor and try not to think about the tight little peaks of her nipples in the soft cups of her bra or the curve of her sweet ass beneath her black panties.

  Come on, Cade. Back to reality.

  "And that's how you broke your ankle?"

  "Well, not exactly. We finally got undone, but by the time I made it home, I was just as stiff as Rupert's pants when I got a new can of starch. I tried to get up the stairs, but the banister wiggled and threw me off-balance, and I ended up skidding my way down. It was just like Mexico."

  "And that's when you broke your ankle."

  "Well…"

  "Grammie, did you even hurt your ankle?"

  "Yes," she insists. "I twisted it like nobody's business."

  "Twisted it?" I ask.

  "Yes. Hurt like a bitch, too. So, I thought about Fiona. I had really missed the two of you. I don't see either one of you nearly often enough, even with our lunches. So, I called her to come and take care of me so I could spend some extra time with her. And you have to admit, the house legitimately needs repairs. I was going to hire you anyway, I just figured I would coordinate it with when Fiona was going to be here, so I could see both of you at the same time, and maybe the two of you could see each other."

  For a second, I'm not sure how to react. Then I feel the tingling in the corners of my mouth again and start to laugh. I knew this couldn't possibly be what it seemed. Grammie isn't the kind of woman to be taken out by a set of stairs. There had to be more to it, and now I know for sure.

  "You could have just told me," I say. "You know I'd never let you hire me to do any repairs. I'd never charge you to do any of this stuff. Besides, I'm happy to see you and to be back here after so long. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. And anything I can do for you, I want to do. It's the least I can do after everything you and Gramps did for me. Without the two of you, I wouldn't have any of the skills or knowledge I have, and I wouldn't be able to be where I am now."

  "And Fiona?"

  "I don't know. I don't think she's ready to see me. It doesn't really matter how I feel about it."

  "But you do feel," she says. "You feel a lot."

  She's looking at me in that knowing way she always does, but it won’t work. Not this time. I know Fiona never told her what happened between us. Even over the years when I've stayed in touch with Grammie, and seen her, we've never talked about why Fiona and I went our separate ways. I don't feel like it's my story to tell. If Fiona ever wants Rose to know, she'll know. Beyond that, she'll just have to settle with knowing that things didn't work out between us.

  "You've got to take it easier on Fiona," I say.

  "You're not going to tell her, are you? She's going through something right now. I don't know what it is, but I'm worried about her. When I realized my ankle wasn't badly hurt, I wasn't sure I would even ask her to help me. But then I talked with her on the phone, and she just sounded so lost. I thought coming out here would be a good opportunity for her to take a break, and maybe reevaluate some things in her life."

  This confirms many of my own suspicions about Fiona, and I shake my head.

  "I'm not going to tell her," I say. "Frankly, I think it's funny as hell you've convinced her that you’ve become some feeble old woman. But you have to promise me you're going to go easier on her."

  "I will," she says. "To be honest with you, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep this up, anyway. There is only but so many times I can watch the same episodes of Unsolved Mysteries and count the stitches in my blankets. I am bored out of my mind just laying around here. I might have to have a miraculous recovery soon. I'm only holding off because I don't want her to go home just yet."

  "I'm sure you'll figure out something," I say. I start toward the door, then turn around to face her. "And I recommend you check your boot. I think it might be on the opposite leg from when we first got here."

  "Damn. I told myself it was the other one that had been hurting. But what do I know?"

  "Where did you even get the boot?"

  "A friend of mine is dating a doctor. He had one sitting around."

  I chuckle at her and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me to give her the chance to swap her boot without getting caught. Still smiling, I walk out of the house and toward my truck. From the back of the house, I can hear Jace is still chopping his way through the pile of wood. Some of it I'll use for some building projects, and the rest I'll put aside for Grammie to burn in her fireplace for the winter. I briefly question my decision to leave him here, but then remember the way Fiona looked at me from the floor.

  She won't be coming out of that room any time soon.

  The next morning…

  I have just finished breakfast, and I am planning on doing a few things around the house before Jace shows up for the day, when I hear the screaming of a siren in the distance. The sound gets louder, and I walk out onto the front porch just in time to see an ambulance speed up the drive and skid into place in front of the house. Fiona comes running down the stairs and out onto the porch with me.

  "What the hell is going on?" she asks. "What's happening?"

  I look at her, realizing she is still in her pajamas, her hair tousled from sleep. I shake my head.

  "I don't know," I admit. “I wish I did.”

  The doors to the ambulance open and
two men rush out. They run around to the back and open the double doors, pulling out a stretcher.

  "What's going on?" Fiona demands as they run past us and up the stairs.

  Fiona looks at me frantically and turns to chase after them. By the time we get to the top of the stairs, the two men are helping Grammie up onto the stretcher. She meets my eyes as she settles back and one of the men straps her down.

  What is she up to now?

  "Grammie," Fiona gasps. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

  The older of the two men steps away from the stretcher, approaching Fiona.

  "I'm a doctor," he says. "I heard from your grandmother early this morning that she isn't recovering. This is very concerning. I think we can both agree that Rose's advanced age puts her at serious risk."

  I see Grammie's eyes slide over to the man in disdain, and bite back a laugh.

  "But why are you here? Where are you taking her?" Fiona asks.

  "I believe she needs additional care in a specialized environment. I'm going to bring her to the rehab center and start an intensive program with her. There is truly no time to waste."

  "I'll help," I offer.

  Now that Grammie is strapped to the stretcher, there isn't any place to go but down the stairs, and by the looks of the doctor, I don't have much trust in his ability to carry Grammie at that angle, even with help from his younger accomplice.

  "I'm going to be fine," Grammie reassures Fiona as we roll her out of the room. "Don't you worry. I'm going to be in the best hands, and I'll be all better before you know it."

  "She's right," the doctor says. "We'll get her into the center, and she'll come back better than ever."

  I help the men get the stretcher down the stairs and out to the ambulance. We push her up into the back, and I climb up with her.

  "What are you doing now?" I mutter to Grammie as I ensure she's securely in place.

  "Don't you say a word, Cade Sawyer," she snaps. "You promised."