I didn’tlikeit, but… only because I associated it with being forced to see my family. I’d thought last Christmas would be better, off in Seattle, but I’d never really made any friends there, working seventy hours a week on a good week, so Christmas had just been an aimless, lonely day off before I went back to work the next day. “The Grinch I am not,” I said, taking the coffee gratefully once she poured it for me. “I don’t have strong feelings. But this place feels wonderful… I think I might enjoy Christmas more here.”
She smiled, her expression softening even though her posture still seemed tight. “Well, merry Christmas to us. We should talk about our expectations as roommates for these next few months, but I think for tonight you just want to—”
“I don’t think you need to worry too much. I know I’m in your home. I’m not going to make a mess or too much noise, but as long as you’re not filthy or… starting a rock band in your room, I won’t complain.”
She dropped back into her seat, picking up a cookie. I should have had some better self-control, but after a long drive, I desperately wanted a cookie. I’d eat the whole plate of them. I picked one up as she said, “This is your place too. We’re both paying equal shares of the rent.”
“Yes, but, well…”
“Look, I don’t want to talk too much about it, but the rent for this place was getting to be a little, um, difficult. I’m moving into a smaller place at the end of this lease, but you’re helping me out a lot too by being here for these last few months. So no acting like I’m here saving you! That’s officially forbidden,” she said, popping the cookie in her mouth. It was kind of… cute, the faux pompousness.
“Okay, well… I’m glad it’s worked out well for both of us.” I sank back in my chair. “Independent work’s dried up? I’ve been hoping to freelance in between jobs…”
“Oh, uh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. I work in a different… industry.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you do?”
She forced too big a smile. “Media. Media marketing, I mean. Content creation. That kind of stuff. It’s a saturated market, you know? Just really… stuffed full.”
I smiled lopsidedly at her. “Then you’ve leaned into your creative side.”
“My creative side. Yeah, I guess you could say so.” She busied herself with her coffee, and she stood up suddenly. “Oh, I made hot chocolate to go with this too. Let me get that.”
“Oh, I’m all right. I really shouldn’t be eating cookies and hot chocolate when I’ve barely had any real food today.”
“You just drove from Seattle. Every day is a good day for cookies and chocolate, but especially a day like this. I’m getting the hot chocolate. If you don’t drink it, then I’ll drink it all, but I’ll make it awkward and peer-pressure-y until you drink it too, and we don’t want that!”
I stared after her for a second before I laughed, once, surprised and genuine—not something I was accustomed to, laughing without meaning to. Something about Bridget. I couldn’t place it. “Well, if you say so,” I said, relaxing into my chair. Maybe I could have cookies and hot chocolate.
Chapter 3
Bridget
“This was the worst idea I’ve ever had,” I groaned, falling onto my back in bed, the phone up to my ear. It was crowded in here now—my studio, rearranged to fit my bed and dresser as well as my computer and recording equipment—and I bumped my stuffed octopus Carrie and sent her tumbling off the bed and under my desk. I’d get used to the spatial awareness of the place.
Gina’s voice was cheerful down the line—out of all my content-creator friends, Gina was the pure, concentrated sunshine, the one who never had a bad thought about anyone and you could always count on to say something nice about someone. “I think technically Nikki had it, not you.”
“Oh my god, that’s such a good point. I can blame her.”
“You don’t like her? Is she mean?”
“No, it’s not…” I groaned. “She’s totally sweet and perfectly lovely. And mostly just really, really grateful she gets to stay here. That’s not the problem.”
“Is she hot?”
“Yes,she’s too hot. Oh my god, it’s horrible.” I dragged a pillow over my face, mumbling into the phone. “I felt like I was going to die with her looking at me like that, talking to me like I was the best thing to ever happen to her. I’m gonna die, Gina.”
“Oh, no, don’t die,” she said, her voice thick with real sincerity and worry, like she actually thought I might have died from horniness. Maybe Gina was righter than I thought.
“Well, okay, I’ll try to live. Butstill.It’s not fair that she’s hotter than I remembered. I started getting horny mid-conversation and then I was getting more and more embarrassed because I was thinking about it, andthatjust made me hornier, and… ugh.”
“Sounds like she’s probably a great source of inspiration. You’ve been trying to get into the flow of things, right?” she said brightly. “Just use your dirty Victoria fantasies to fuel your writing.”
“I’m not publishing fanfiction of me fucking my roommate. That’s weird even forme,Gina.”
“I’m not saying it has to be about Veronica Jackson the sexy office-girl roommate. It’s just about taking advantage of your own passion to write!”
“Ugh. I have a new vibrator coming in the mail soon, so hopefully that will help distract me.” I paused. “And hopefully they weren’t lying about it being in discreet packaging. Oh, god, I didn’t even think about that part.”
