Roommate Romance Read online

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying I should move to New York?”

  I shrugged, trying not to show how secretly thrilled I was with the idea. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him off with my enthusiasm.

  “Maybe,” I said. “It’s a good place to start over.”

  He looked out the window again.

  “I’m kind of tired,” he finally said. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I bumped my hip against his. “Fun though, right?”

  He managed a smile. “I know Emily will never forget it.”

  “And you?”

  Josh didn’t say anything.

  Well. I had tried. And it wouldn’t do any good to push it any more tonight. If anything, he needed time. We were alike in that way. Planners. People who liked to go over options before making any big decisions.

  I gathered up my things. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow around eleven and take you to the theatre, OK?”

  He nodded.

  Squeezing his arm, I said goodnight and headed out. Once I was back in the cold November air, I let out the breath I had been holding. I was really worried about Josh. But maybe, maybe I could convince him that this place would be good for him. Just like it had been good for me.

  Chapter 26

  SHANE

  I was fast asleep when I felt the mattress shift slightly. Letting out a groan, I groped around for the bedside light, but instead came in contact with a soft, smooth leg.

  “Mmm.” I moved my hand upward until I found the hip attached to the leg.

  A quiet laugh came through the darkness.

  “There’s something strange in my bed,” I murmured.

  “Your bed?” I could hear the pretend outrage in Allie’s voice.

  But I had managed to get a firm grip on her ass, and pulled her deeper into the bed, rolling her until she was under me. My eyes had begun adjusting to the dark, and her face came into view.

  “Hi,” I said to her, enjoying the way she felt beneath me.

  “Hi,” she responded, her voice breathy.

  “I was having a great dream.” I ran my hand along her side, and then up to cup her breast. “It was kind of like this, except you were wearing far less clothing.”

  “Like you,” Allie noted, her fingers dragging down my chest, her eyes widening as she discovered that I wasn’t wearing anything at all.

  I kissed her neck, and she arched into me with a little sigh, her legs parting to make room for me. I pressed against her, loving the way she moaned, her breathing becoming staccato.

  “This is nice,” I murmured, and suddenly felt her stiffen.

  “What is?” she asked, her voice tight.

  I licked her collarbone. “Sex,” I told her, even though I had been thinking that it was nice having someone crawl in bed with me after a long day. It was nice being close to her. “Sex is nice.”

  Immediately she relaxed, her fingers going back to exploring. When she took me in her hand, I groaned.

  “This is nice too. Very, very nice,” she whispered and spent the rest of the night showing me exactly how nice it was.

  ALLIE

  The next day, I met Josh and Emily at the hotel, where my niece asked if we could have tea at the Palm Court—the super fancy restaurant in the Plaza. My eyebrows went up at the prices, but Josh shrugged it off, and he didn’t even seem to care when Emily took a sip of her expensive pot of tea, wrinkled her nose, and declared that actually she didn’t like tea at all.

  Luckily, she ate all of her scones and tiny sandwiches—and even some of mine—leaving me to finish her pot of tea, and by the time we got to the Hole In The Wall Theatre, I was pretty sure I was going to burst if I didn’t go to the bathroom immediately.

  Hustling them in through the lobby, I nearly ran smack dab into Reagan who was coming out of the theatre.

  “Reagan, hi!” I shoved her towards my family. “This is Josh and Emily.”

  But I shoved her so hard that she crashed right into Josh and might have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her. He stared down at her, his face a mixture of surprise and amusement—a common expression worn when people met Reagan—but didn’t immediately let go.

  It wasn’t something I had time to analyze as I rushed towards the bathroom.

  “I like your glasses,” I heard Emily say to Reagan.

  When I came back a few minutes later, the three of them were still hanging out in the lobby. Josh was standing with his hands in his pockets looking unusually awkward, while Reagan was crouched down talking to Emily.

  “Would you like to see backstage?” she was asking.

  Emily nodded vigorously. “But I want to see the light booth first. I want to call cues.”

  Reagan glanced up at Josh with an eyebrow raised. “You weren’t kidding.”

  “Kidding about what?” I asked.

  “About Emily being your mini-me,” Reagan said, standing and brushing off her black overalls. “It’s uncanny, really.”

  I noticed that Josh seemed to take a step backwards. I looked a little closer. Was he blushing? What was going on?

  “Did I miss something?” I asked, glancing between the two of them.

  Josh shook his head, but Reagan laughed.

  “He grabbed my boob,” she said.

  “What?” my mouth dropped open.

  Josh closed his eyes as if pained. “I did not grab your boob,” he muttered. “I grazed it. Accidentally.” He looked over at me, murder in his gaze. “Because you pushed her into me.”

  “It’s OK.” Reagan patted him on the arm. “Still more action than I’ve had in months.”

  Josh just stared at her, and I saw something pass between the two of them, something I couldn’t quite identify. But if was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and I convinced myself that I had just been imagining things. I couldn’t imagine there were two people more different than former jock Josh and eccentric bespectacled Reagan. I reminded myself not to leave them alone again. It would just be too uncomfortable for both of them.

  “Come on, Emmy-bean.” Josh swung Emily onto his back. “Let’s go check out this light booth thing.”

  Reagan tagged along on our tour, occasionally interjecting to share trivia and fun facts about the space and the history of theatre in general.

  “Did you know that in Shakespeare’s time, only men were allowed to act?” she asked Emily, whose arms were wrapped around Josh’s neck. “So all the girl parts were played by boys.”

  “That’s not fair.” Emily wrinkled up her nose.

  “You’re right,” Reagan told her. “It’s not fair at all.”

  “How is casting all women in your shows any different?” Josh muttered. “Sounds like you’re not being fair either. Maybe even a little hypocritical.”

  “Josh!” I admonished him. It was an unusually rude comment. Especially from him. If anything, he was a total flirt with most women. I couldn’t remember him ever being anything but charming to my friends—even when he thought they were a little strange. Clearly his depression was even worse than I had previously imagined, if that was possible.

  Luckily, Reagan didn’t seem offended.

  “I guess you have a point,” she admitted gamely. “But, since most plays are still written with mostly male roles, I suppose I’m just trying to even the playing field a little bit.”

  She adjusted her glasses, but I could tell that her usual enthusiasm had dimmed a little. I could have kicked Josh. It was bad enough that he was on a one-way trip to bummerville, the last thing I needed was for him to drag the ever cheerful Reagan down with him.

  Thankfully, Josh didn’t have a response. And Reagan seemed to shake it off quickly and continued on with her lesson as if nothing had happened. Apparently even rude brothers weren’t enough to truly dampen her enthusiasm for all things theatre-related.

  “In fact, some people believe that the term ‘drag’ is an acronym for ‘dress resembling a girl.’ ” She grinned at Emily. “Isn’t that
interesting?”

  Emily nodded and then paused. “What’s drag?”

  “That’s what your Uncle Josh does when he dresses up as Maid Marian for your plays,” I explained to Emily while Josh shot daggers at me.

  Reagan laughed. “I had no idea you were so familiar with the art of drag,” she teased. “I bet you look great in a dress.”

  “Trust me.” Josh put his hands over Emily’s ears, his voice low. “When it comes to women’s dresses, I don’t put them on. I take them off.”

  This time it was Reagan who blushed, as Emily squirmed out of Josh’s grasp, smacking his hand away. I smiled at both of them. OK. Flirting, harmless flirting. That was a little more like Josh. More normal. It made me feel a little better. I was pretty sure being this far out of his comfort zone was good for him. It might have even provided a distraction for everything else.

  Because, even though he had been frowning and muttering at Reagan, I now noticed that some of the stress had disappeared from his eyes, and he seemed almost lighter, like some of the weight that had been lying across his shoulders had been lifted. It just further confirmed my suspicion—and hope—that New York was good for him. Change was good for him.

  Emotion swelled inside of me. It was so nice having Josh and Emily here. Even though I enjoyed my job, I was realizing that I hadn’t really allowed myself to have anything outside of it. Anything resembling a personal life. Except my ongoing fling with Shane. My temporary fling.

  But last night something had been different. I could tell from the way he kissed me, the way he held me afterwards. Something was changing, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. Or even how I felt about it.

  SHANE

  The lobby was empty when I came in, my toolbox in hand. Had Reagan forgotten that she asked me here to look at Joanna’s broken desk drawer? But then I heard voices and followed them into the theatre. A small group was gathered around the light booth. As I got closer, I saw that it was Reagan and a tall man that looked vaguely familiar. They were both watching Allie, who was sitting in the light booth with a little kid on her lap. A little kid with Allie’s eyes. And her headset.

  “OK, Emmy-bean,” Allie was saying to her. “If you want to warn people that their cue is coming up, you say ‘standby.’ ”

  “Uncle Josh,” Emily said into the headset. “Standby.”

  The tall man saluted her with two fingers. “Standing by,” he said, and I realized the reason he looked familiar was because he also looked like Allie. Same eyes. Same nose.

  Then the little girl caught sight of me. She stood up on Allie’s lap and pointed.

  “Hey,” she said, bossy and adorable. “I didn’t give you your cue.”

  Allie looked up. Her smile flickered and something sort of like panic flitted across her face. Putting the little girl down on the floor, she stood up and came around the booth.

  I held up my hands. “My apologies,” I told the little girl. “I guess I forgot when I was supposed to come in. I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”

  “Join the club,” the tall man muttered.

  I looked over at Allie, who was chewing her bottom lip. She quickly glanced away. Was this her family? Had to be. So why was she acting so weird?

  “Shane, I’m so sorry.” Reagan looked down at the clock on her phone. “I totally lost track of time.” She turned to Allie. “I asked him to come here to fix Joanna’s desk.”

  “Oh, right,” Allie said awkwardly, and I realized at that moment that she had no intention of introducing me to her family. That she hadn’t even told them about me. And clearly had no plans to change that.

  It shouldn’t have bothered me—we were just having casual sex, after all—but I discovered that it did bother me. A lot. I wasn’t sure which feeling annoyed me more.

  “I’m Josh.” The tall guy held out his hand, and I shook it. The expression on his face clearly said that he had picked up on the uncomfortable vibe in the room. “Allie’s older brother.” He put his arm around the little girl. “This is Emily—she’s our niece.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said to them, amused when Emily stuck out her hand for me to shake. It was practically dwarfed in my hand, but she gave me a firm shake anyways. “Impressive handshake,” I told her. “I’m Shane.”

  “And how do you know everyone?” Josh asked, clearly prying.

  I didn’t miss the glare Allie sent his way. Annoyance flared up in me again and I told it to go to hell.

  “Shane helps out with theatre repairs,” Reagan offered lamely.

  “And I’m Allie’s—” I looked over at her, trying to fight back my frustration. Allie’s eyes were wide—clearly she wasn’t sure what I was about to tell them. “I’m Allie’s neighbor.”

  “Uh huh.” Josh shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  There was a slight smile on his face that indicated he wasn’t buying any of this for a second. Smart guy.

  “Hey, Emmy-bean.” Allie’s voice was a little too loud, a little too high. “Want to go backstage and look at the puppets?”

  Without even waiting for a response, Allie was stalking off, towing the little girl behind her. Josh shrugged and followed them to the back of the theatre, where they disappeared behind the curtain.

  “Well.” Reagan had her hands on her hips. “That was awkward.”

  No kidding.

  But if Allie didn’t want to introduce me to her family, that was her prerogative. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. After last night—the way she had tensed in my arms when things got a little too intimate—it was pretty clear that this thing between us was about sex and only sex. And I couldn’t be annoyed because she had been clear from the beginning.

  So why was I annoyed? Why was I disappointed? Both were feelings I wasn’t proud of, and in the midst of all that was something else. Something that stabbed me in the chest, a dull, hollow feeling.

  I did my best to ignore all of that, and turned to Reagan, lifting my toolbox.

  “Come on,” I told her. “Let’s go fix whatever’s broken.”

  Chapter 27

  ALLIE

  “Your neighbor, huh?” Josh’s voice made me jump ten feet.

  I had been looking for some unused costumes for Emily in the other room, and I hadn’t heard him approach.

  “Jesus.” I put a hand over my racing heart. “You’re as bad as Reagan.” Someone needed to put taps on their shoes or something.

  Josh frowned a little at that but wasn’t going to be deterred from his mission to annoy me into confirming the suspicion he clearly had. A suspicion that was probably correct. Josh was smart, I had no doubt he had picked up on exactly how well Shane and I knew each other.

  “How long have you been . . . neighbors?” he asked, barely trying to be subtle.

  I ignored him. “Where’s Emily?”

  “Reagan came back and is showing her the puppets.” Josh crossed his arms. “You’re lousy at evading questions. My advice? Don’t go into politics.”

  “Thanks for the pro-tip.” I pushed past him but he snagged the back of my shirt.

  “It will be less painful if you just tell me,” he said. “You know I’m going to badger you until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Great.” I twisted out of his grasp. “I’ll be happy to talk about it. As soon as you’re ready to talk about what you plan on doing with your life now that you’re done with baseball.”

  It was a low blow, but it worked. Josh’s face was like stone as he stalked off, and I flinched as he slammed the stage door behind him. Great work, Allie, I told myself. Alienate your brother and Shane in the same hour. If you hurry, you can hurt Reagan’s feelings and make Emily cry.

  I sat down on a discarded piece of set, feeling like the lowest of the low.

  Why had I frozen up when Shane arrived? Why hadn’t I just introduced him as . . . as what? I realized I didn’t really have a label for him. He was the guy I was sleeping with. The guy I was living with and sle
eping with.

  But most people would just call that my boyfriend. And Shane was definitely not my boyfriend. No way.

  So why did I feel so crummy thinking about the disappointment that flickered in his eyes when I balked at introducing him? And why did I have this really annoying ache in my chest? Like heartburn, but not as sharp. I pressed my palm there, as if I could massage it away, even though I knew I couldn’t. Because I had a pretty good idea of what it was, and I did not have the time for those kinds of feelings.

  Josh and I barely spoke for the rest of the day. We managed to be civil for the sake of Emily who didn’t seem to notice, but once she was tucked into bed, Josh shut down again. It was like watching a door close in your face. It sucked.

  He went into the other room, and I heard him pour himself a drink, ice clinking against the glass. I sat there for a moment, considering just going back to Brooklyn, but then I realized I’d probably have to have a similar kind of conversation with another annoyed man there.

  This day sucked. And it sucked because of my own making. I couldn’t even blame anyone else for it, which made it suck even more. I knew I had to make amends, and I’d much rather start with my brother then with my . . . live-in lover? Boy toy? No matter how I tried to define Shane, nothing sounded right.

  Taking a deep breath, I went into the other room and found Josh in one of the chairs, his feet up, his glass filled with whiskey. I walked over and took it out of his hand.

  “If this is your way to start an apology, I have to tell you, you’re already screwing it up,” Josh told me, but didn’t try to get the glass back. Instead he just seemed to sink deeper into the chair.

  “Why did you want to know about Shane?” I asked, taking a tiny sip, deciding I still didn’t like whiskey and putting it aside.

  Josh shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Why didn’t you want to tell me about him? Because there’s obviously something going on between the two of you and I have no idea why you didn’t want to admit that.”