The Roommate Problem

by Mariah Ankenman

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Pru asked. “If Agatha defaults on the loan, you’re responsible for paying it back.”

  “I know.” She scowled at her so-called friend. “And of course I want to do this. I don’t believe Agatha would ever dump me with the bill.” The sweet woman didn’t even want Mo to risk her financial future by co-signing in the first place, but dammit, if she could help a friend, she would.

  At least Pru had the decency to look ashamed.

  “I’m sorry, Mo.” Pru came around the desk and grasped Mo’s hand in hers. “Simon is teething and kept me up all night. I’m not running on all cylinders right now.”

  Aw, she couldn’t stay mad at her friend. She stood and wrapped Pru in a tight embrace. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Because I’m awesome like that.”

  “Yes, you are.” Pru laughed. “So when do you hear back from the bank?”

  She pulled away, glancing back and forth between her friends as she answered. “Once I finish filling this out, I’m going to give it back to Agatha for a final pass. Then she’ll turn it in to the loan office, and hopefully, the bank approves it. I know all loans are a risk, but I trust Agatha and her business sense.”

  “Yeah, but do you trust August?” Lilly asked.

  More than her friends knew. She was coming to trust August a whole lot more than she should, honestly. He’d mentioned time and again that this thing with them wouldn’t go any deeper than it currently was. But in her heart, she just knew there was a connection between them. Why else would he have shared his painful past with her so freely the other night?

  He didn’t do that with people. She could tell by the look of surprise on his face after the words poured from his mouth. Her blood still boiled at the image of sweet little ten-year-old August being shuffled back and forth between homes. Had he even had a room, or had his parents just shoved him wherever was convenient for three days out of the week?

  She shouldn’t judge. She had no idea what being in the middle of a divorce was like and, while her parents had never officially gotten married, they’d been together her entire life. What did she know about being a kid caught in between two homes? Maybe that was normal. Still, even if it was normal, that didn’t make it right. Not when it clearly had a lasting impact on August and his view of the world. Of relationships.

  “You guys,” she addressed her friends, “I appreciate that you worry about me, but I’ve got this. I know what I’m doing, Agatha knows what she’s doing, and August will be…” She highly doubted he’d be fine with her proposed plan, but… “He’ll come to see the logic of a plan where everyone gets what they want.”

  Mostly what they wanted, anyhow.

  Pru and Lilly didn’t look convinced. Then again, her friends did tread on the overcautious side of life most days. Thank God they had her or they’d never have any fun.

  “Are you sure you should be getting in the middle of this?” Pru asked, tugging on her ponytail. “Inserting yourself into big decisions between family members is usually a recipe for disaster.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with all kinds of different family dynamics over the years. They all had. Weddings tended to bring out the best and worst in family. From the overly controlling in-laws to the barely there groom to the last-minute screw-it-let’s-elope types. Mo and her friends had dealt with it all.

  Lilly removed her glasses and cleaned them with the edge of her skirt. “If you say so, but I think getting involved in others’ family matters can lead to disaster. Especially if one of those people is your roommate.”

  Lilly pushed her glasses back on her nose and gave Mo a pointed look. One Mo chose to ignore. If only her friends knew just how involved she was in Agatha’s matters. A part of her wished she could tell them, unload at least one of the secrets burdening her down. But she’d promised Agatha she wouldn’t. Dammit. Hiding Agatha’s surgery from August, hiding her relationship with August from Agatha, hiding all of it from her friends…

  It was enough to give her an ulcer.

  She didn’t want an ulcer. You weren’t supposed to eat fatty foods with an ulcer, and those were her favorite kinds of foods.

  At least part of it would be over soon. Agatha’s surgery was next week, and the woman had promised Mo she would tell August all about it once everything was finished. All August knew was his grandmother was taking a few days off to go on a road trip with some friends from her living complex. At least, that’s what he told her his grandmother had said. Good thing Agatha was a better liar than Mo, and good thing August had shared that in the dark of night so he couldn’t see her face burning with guilt.

  It’s not my secret to share.

  She had to keep reminding herself of that when the words wanted to burst forth from her lips. Every time they were intimate or August shared a piece of himself with her, it cut a little deeper, the tiny whisper saying that by holding on to this secret, she might be doing something wrong. Even though she had promised and Mo always kept her word, it still felt…deceitful to be hiding something so big from the man she was coming to care deeply for.

  “Temporary roommate,” she reminded Lilly. “And I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

  Her friends looked at each other and started to chuckle.

  “What?”

  At her question, they just laughed harder, until Pru was bent over and Lilly was wiping tears from her eyes. At least she’d gotten them to laugh. Better than the apprehensive glances they’d been giving her the past ten minutes. But she’d like to be let in on the joke, too.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Lilly said, working to compose herself. “Whenever you say ‘trust me,’ we know to do the exact opposite.”

  “Hey!” She sat back in her seat with a huff, sending her friends a disgruntled frown. Even if what they said was true, it didn’t mean she had to agree with them.

  “It’s true,” Pru agreed with a nod. “Remember the time we went hiking, took the wrong trail head, and got lost? Then you said, ‘Trust me, I can get us out of here,’ and we spent another hour and a half climbing all over the damn mountain?”

  “We found our way back.” They had. “Eventually.”

  Lilly gave a delicate snort. “Only because a ranger came by and escorted us back down to the trail.”

  “We made it home. I’m still calling it a win.” She lifted a finger as her memory pinged. “And the ranger had a cute butt, so that’s a double win.”

  Lilly shook her head. “What about the time you convinced us to try out your friend’s new food truck and we all got food poisoning?”

  “That wasn’t Noah’s fault.”

  “He was using raw milk in his iced coffees, Mo,” Pru pointed out. “It’s why he got shut down. It’s dangerous and illegal.”

  Okay, so maybe that had been his fault, but she hadn’t known that at the time. She’d just wanted to support a friend.

  “We love you, sweetie, but you tend to always think the best of everything and everyone.” Lilly reached out to squeeze her hand. “Not everyone can see the silver lining like you can. Some people aren’t as…easily convinced. Just be careful with this plan and maybe loop August in before you and Agatha sign anything, okay?”

  But if she looped him in, he’d find a way to poke a hole in it. The loveable grump would dump his pessimism all over her and Agatha’s bright, shiny plan. Besides, it was still Agatha’s business. If she wanted to take out a loan—with Mo as a co-signer—she had every right to. She didn’t need to ask her grandson’s permission, and Mo didn’t have to ask her roommate/lover’s permission, either.

  “I’ll take it under advisement,” she said to appease her friends. She grabbed a pen and one of the vendor contract agreements for their upcoming wedding. “Now, don’t we have a business to run or something?”

  �
��Wow.” Pru gave Lilly a sly grin. “Hell must have frozen over if Mo wants to drop personal issues and get back to work.”

  Mo pointed her pen at Pru. “You are not as funny as you think, Prudence Jamison.”

  “I’m hilarious,” she responded. “Just ask my toddlers.”

  “They laugh at fart noises. I’m not sure they’re the best judges of comedy.”

  “Okay, break is over,” Lilly said, moving back toward her desk. “Mo is right—we have a lot of work to attend to.”

  Pru playfully stuck her tongue out at Mo, which she maturely returned, smiling as her friend went back to her desk. As meddlesome as her friends could be, it was wonderful how much they cared. Mo felt lucky to know these two women, to be loved and supported by them. And while their advice might be given with the best of intentions, they didn’t know the whole story.

  And whose fault is that?

  Hers.

  Her gut gurgled, acid churning away at the lining. Or it could be all the secrets. Could guilt eat stomach lining?

  She pushed down the panic causing her heart to race. It was fine; things were fine. Everything would work out in the end, because it had to. The loan would go through. Agatha would find a nice plot of land for August to grow his flowers. They’d both stay in Denver. Agatha would make it through surgery just fine, and August would never have to know Mo had known about it ahead of time.

  Things would be okay.

  They had to be.

  Chapter Eighteen

  What time are you getting home?

  August glanced at the text message on his phone, a strange smile tilting his lips. A short time ago, that phrase coming from someone else would have been totally foreign to him. He’d lived on his own since he turned eighteen and moved away from both homes. He’d never had a roommate until Mo. Never had anyone to ask when he was coming home.

  It was a strange sensation to realize he actually liked it. Warmth filled his chest knowing that someone cared about when he would be home. And it was Mo, so she might be asking to hide the evidence of a pineapple pizza binge or because she was in the mood and wanted to jump him.

  Please let it be the latter.

  But whatever the reason, it was a strange sensation to feel contentment at the thought that someone was waiting for him. Eager to see him. He wasn’t used to it, but he was surprised to discover he liked it. A lot.

  His thumbs flew over the phone’s screen as he replied to her text.

  Just have to wrap up at few things at the shop. Gran is on her girls’ weekend, and Chris is coming in to close up tonight.

  A few weeks ago, his grandmother casually mentioned a girls’ weekend with her friend Patricia. She also said she had something to discuss with him when she returned. He hoped it meant she’d considered his suggestion of selling and coming to live by him.

  Or he thought he did.

  Ever since he’d arrived in the city, all he’d wanted to do was leave. But lately, he’d been feeling…conflicted. He still didn’t like the city for the most part. It was loud and crowded, and the parking could be a nightmare. But he’d found aspects he really liked. The Botanic Gardens were beautiful. The vast array of restaurants that catered to many palates, including his. The parks and trails right in the heart of the city. And, of course, the best part of Denver:

  Moira Rossi.

  What a surprise she’d turned out to be. The first time he laid eyes on her, he knew his life was about to turn upside down, but he hadn’t expected it to turn like it did. He figured he’d have to suffer through six months of living with a flighty slob who annoyed him to no end. He’d been partially right; Mo was still as messy as ever. He found a bag of cubed cheddar in the bathroom the other day, and when he asked her about it, she replied it was her shower cheese.

  That wasn’t even a thing.

  But despite her less than cleanly attitude, he’d come to discover he liked Mo. More than he ever would have imagined. He wasn’t saying he wanted to go pick out china patterns or anything, but it surprised him how much he’d come to care for the woman in such a short time. He supposed their close proximity attributed to the acceleration of their relationship.

  And it was a relationship. Of a kind. He wasn’t kidding himself. He and Mo lived together. Even though they kept separate rooms, she stayed in his almost every night. They ate most of their meals together, she introduced him to movies he’d never imagined he would have liked, but did, and he took her on walks through the local parks while she listened with fascination to him as he explained every tree, bush, and flower they passed.

  In a weird way, they worked together.

  Which was why he felt so conflicted about his plan to leave. He’d been so sure he’d lined out the perfect life for him and Gran. But now, for the first time, he had doubts. And all because some five-foot-nothing of a sassy, beautiful woman had somehow gotten him to start believing in things he never thought he would before. Like compromise and city living and commitment.

  August’s three terrifying Cs.

  But with Mo, they didn’t seem so insurmountable. They even seemed, dare he say it, fun?

  His phone dinged with another text.

  Good. I have a surprise for you when you get home.

  “Uh-oh.”

  In the past few weeks, he’d learned that Mo’s surprises consisted of two options: an outing meant to break him out of his shell—some of which weren’t so bad, like the concert at Red Rocks she’d brought him to last weekend—or finding a new spot in the apartment to explore their chemistry.

  Am I going to like the surprise?

  Because she was batting about 50/50 with him and her surprises, and he wanted to be prepared.

  It’s an at-home surprise, Grumpy Gus Gus.

  He chuckled softly, not minding the ridiculous nickname as much anymore. Much like the woman who’d given it to him, it had grown on him.

  Great. See you in about an hour, then.

  She sent him a winky kissy face emoji. Since he’d never really had anyone to text before Mo, he wasn’t the best with these kinds of responses. Gran preferred calls to texts, and besides his former coworkers, whose only correspondence was to check schedules or switch shifts, his buddies would simply call him if they needed to talk. He’d never gotten the hang of the whole speaking-in-emojis thing.

  He stared at the vast array of choices before him for a solid minute. What did he send? A heart? Would she read too much into that? Did he send the same emoji she sent him? And why in the world was there a poop emoji? When would someone use that? Who did you send it to? And why was it smiling?

  When his head started to hurt, August gave up and sent back a thumbs up. Less than thirty seconds later, he got a response from Mo.

  Thumbs up? Oh, Gus Gus. We really need to work on your emoji game.

  This was followed by four emojis, one that was cry laughing, one with its tongue sticking out, one that appeared to be some kind of nerd with glasses and buck teeth, and finally the smiling poop emoji.

  He burst out laughing. Yet another surprising thing about Mo. The woman could make him laugh without even being near him. No one had ever made him laugh so much. He couldn’t remember ever being so…happy. Mo made him happy.

  Gran would be happy to know her secret matchmaking had worked. Not that he was in any way ready to admit that to her. He still thought the best thing for him and Gran was to sell and buy a flower farm out west a ways. But maybe he could bend a little. Listen to Mo, see if she had any ideas for a compromise. He was sure the woman had about a dozen. She had said she was going to try and convince him to his grandmother’s side. He wondered what thoughts she had cooking in that sexy, inventive brain of hers.

  Couldn’t hurt to hear a few, right?

  He could entertain some ideas without completely giving up on his plans. It didn’t mean they would happen, but what was the har
m in listening?

  “Hey, Mr. Porter. Sorry I’m a bit late. The bus was off schedule by five minutes.”

  August glanced up from his phone to see Chris stepping though the front door of the flower shop.

  “It’s fine. And I told you before, you can call me August.”

  “Right, sorry, August.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He liked Chris. The younger man’s leg was healing up nicely, but he still couldn’t drive the van, so he’d been taking over a lot more in the shop, and August had come to discover Chris was quite the talented florist. He’d helped Gran put together twelve floral arrangements for a funeral last week and managed to make them beautiful and respectful, something most people didn’t realize was very hard to do.

  Chris carefully maneuvered on his crutches back behind the counter. August grabbed a stool for the guy, positioning it so he could sit comfortable for his shift.

  “I’ve just got to grab some stuff and I’m out of here.” August nodded toward the back. “You need anything tonight, don’t hesitate to call me. You got my cell?”

  Chris nodded. “Yup, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. My boyfriend is picking me up after closing so I don’t have to take the bus back home.”

  “Good. Have a great night, then.”

  August waved and headed to the back to grab some invoice orders he planned to look over tonight after dinner and Mo’s surprise, which he was hoping was hot, wild sex.

  He made his way to the supply closet where Gran kept all her invoices and paperwork in a small filing cabinet shoved in the corner. She really needed an office, but the shop didn’t have the space for that. Another point to add to the sell the shop and retire side of his plan. One he would have been smug about only a week or so ago.

  The battle for selling or staying still raging in his mind, August opened the metal filing cabinet drawer and riffled through the folders, looking for the invoices he needed. As he shuffled through the massive amount of paperwork—good grief, did his grandmother ever throw anything away?—his gaze caught on a word in big bold letters.