truck.
“We’re doing karaoke tonight at the Biscuit,” he says. “You guys should come.”
“What time?” Rickie asks, as if this were up to him. “I’m Rickie, by the way.”
“I know,” Karim says, walking closer and offering his hand for a shake. “I was in the psych seminar last year when you were a guest speaker.”
“Ah, yeah. It was fun to be the class freak for a day, I guess.” Rickie crosses his tattooed arms, and Karim blatantly checks him out.
“Hey, I thought your story was so cool,” says my coworker, Rickie’s new fanboy. “We head over to the Biscuit in the Basket from five-thirty onward,” he says. “First we eat two-for-one wings, and then karaoke starts up around six.”
I open my mouth to shoot down this idea. But not before Rickie says, “Awesome, we’ll be there.”
What the…?
“Cool!” Karim says, with a smile a mile wide.
And I can’t believe I’ve just been snookered into karaoke. Although Karim and Jenn have been hinting that I should join them, and it feels wrong to say no all the time. But karaoke? That’s not something you do with new coworkers. Yikes.
I shoot Rickie an evil glare.
He smiles.
“I have to text my family,” I say stiffly. “In case I’m needed at home.”
“Get on that then.” Karim points at the building. “I’d better go in.”
“Right,” I say quickly. “Me too.” I shoulder my pack. “I’ll just be a second.”
I wait for Karim to walk out of earshot. Then I turn on Rickie. “What did you do that for?”
“Because karaoke is fun?” he shrugs, like this is so obvious. “I won’t drink more than one beer, so I can still drive home.”
“You can go ahead and drink,” I hiss, “Because there’s no way I would get drunk with a microphone in my hand in front of colleagues. Jesus.”
He laughs. “Okay. It’s a date. Before that—meet me at the house at five? To see the place. You remember where it is?”
“Yes,” I grunt.
“Great. See you then.” He tugs on my hand and gives me a quick kiss. “Later, gorgeous.”
My cheeks flame. “Later.”
He walks away, smiling.
Naturally, Karim is waiting for me by the door. “You sneaky Pete!” he crows as soon as I enter the building. “You told me you two were just roommates.”
“It’s complicated,” I grumble. “He’s hot, but annoying.”
“My heart is breaking,” he says, sneaking one more look through the glass doors at Rickie’s departing figure. “That boy looks tasty with a suntan.”
Damn it all, he isn’t wrong.
“Does he have a good voice? If he sings some kind of sexy ballad at karaoke, I may not recover.”
“I haven’t heard him sing,” I say. But then I realize I have.
Twice.
Thirty-Two
Rickie
Even with my class finished, my Wednesday is a busy day. I turn in my last philosophy paper, then pick up my keys from the rental agent. Then I head over to the house and check the place out, just to make sure the tenants left everything in order.
They did. The place is spotless. But as I walk around my empty house, listening to my own footsteps, I remember why I always fill the place with roommates. I do better with people near me. Not in my bedroom, but near it.
Christ, I’m weird.
Even so, I practically bounce into Lenore’s office for my session.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” she observes.
“Yeah, it’s been a good week.” I actually drag the chair closer to her desk and prop my feet on it.
“Comfortable?”
“Yup. I got my house back today. I’m moving back in soon.”
She cocks her head. “With or without a new roommate?”
“Daphne hasn’t said. But I’ll win her over.” I give her a dazzling smile. “Short commute to my bed and all.”
“So I take it things are going well in the Daphne department.”
“I’ve got no complaints, and neither does she.”
Lenore laughs. “Noted. How are you sleeping?”
“Apart, if that’s what you mean.”
“I meant generally. Any more nightmares?”
“Well, sometimes.” I kick my feet back down onto the floor. “And now I see his face in them.”
“Daphne’s ex?”
“Yeah.” I rake a hand through my hair. “It’s creepy as fuck.”
“What does he do in these dreams?” Lenore asks me. “Anything new?”
“No—not one thing. I see his face by my bed. And then I always wake up.”
“Okay.” She chews her lip. It’s her tell, so now I’m wary. “Did you pick your classes yet?”
“For the fall? We can’t turn in a schedule until the twenty-seventh.”
“But have you thought it through?” she asks.
Good grief. “Lenore, why are you suddenly so interested in my course load? Avoidance is not a