Roomies - Christina Lauren Page 0,68

beat of dead silence as Calvin tries to figure out what the hell is happening, and I can’t help him because I have no idea what my mouth is doing, either. My brain has clearly checked out.

“Right,” he says slowly. “A lot of sex.” His grin starts tiny and turns into a beacon of amusement. “Should I tell him you like it a little dirty?”

I swallow a bite of fry before I’ve even chewed it; my eyes water instantly. “What?”

“I mean, you do, don’t you?” He licks his lips and stares at mine. “Certainly seemed that way.”

I don’t even know what’s happening. I wipe my mouth, like there might be a line of drool there.

“I like seeing you speechless.”

“I am . . . yes. Out of words.”

His smile straightens and he licks his lips again, leaning forward a little.

With a jerk, I cough, and resolutely ball my burger wrapper up. “Moving on! You are now a part of the orchestra for It Possessed Him,” I say, “but formerly you were a freelance performer and played in various bands, including a cover band called Loose Springsteen—”

“Please don’t tell them that. I don’t want that a matter of government record.”

I giggle. “And you apparently like to walk around the apartment mostly naked.”

He looks slyly at me. “You keep the heat up pretty high.”

I am no match for his verbal flirting. “Is it too warm in here?”

Calvin shrugs, and his greenish eyes are lit with tiny stars. “You’re pretty red.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“By being half-naked?”

“By bringing up the sex we had.”

“The sex we didn’t have,” he corrects, becoming more amused by the minute. “That first date was pretend sex. Last night was real sex, without satisfaction for either of us. I’m wondering whether that has us both a little jittery. Maybe you’ll find something to help you in the couch.”

For a second, maybe more, I’m starting to think he’s flirting. I’m starting to think that he’s suggesting we go have some more real sex before we have to leave for work. He’s certainly dialed up the charm this afternoon.

But as he holds on to the smile, it becomes a little forced and his eyes flicker away, to the clock, down to his phone. And that is not a smile I’ve seen on his face before. Or have I?

The bubble pops.

Calvin is good at this. It took him no time at all to say yes to my proposal. The kiss on the wedding day made my knees weak, but he’s never tried to kiss me again. Well, not including last night’s booze-induced mauling. But he’s really good at the emotions, the intuition of feeling—it’s part of what makes him such a good musician.

And I’m . . . not. I’ve never been a game player.

Our interview is Monday, and we need to crush it. There’s a kernel inside me, holding steadfast, that knows he’s playing a game, trying to get me to loosen up enough to be convincing. Yes, he’s charming, and yes, of course, he’s gorgeous. But he wants this job and this life more than anything. I think back to his words the other day. “The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve wanted this—exactly this . . . After I graduated, I thought something like this would come . . . I wanted this show so much I just stayed.”

This is what is most important to him.

And that’s when it hits me.

If playing me and flirting with me—and even sleeping with me—will get him that life, I don’t doubt for one second that he would do it.

twenty

I hope you don’t mind my brother passing on your number.

This is Brigid btw!

I peer down at my phone.

Brigid . . . Brigid?

Oh! Brigid, as in Calvin’s sister Brigid.

“Calvin?”

I walk out of the bathroom and round the corner to find him standing in the kitchen. One can only assume he’s wearing boxers, because from where I’m standing—and with his lower half currently obscured by the counter—he looks like he’s eating cereal wearing nothing but his wedding ring.

Help.

When he sees me he lifts a forearm to wipe his mouth and my eyes zero in like tractor beams. With his arm out of the way I am confronted with an unobstructed view of pectorals, abdominals, obliques . . .

I see it each day—what is this extraordinary life?—but it knocks the wind out of me every time.

“I know you’re not hungry so thought I’d grab something quick before we go.” He points to the phone still clutched in my hand and