“They’ve never been the same. But I still swear by trail running. Pedicures are miraculous.”
Millie also thinks yarn is miraculous.
My watch alarms, telling me I need to start heading back. I set the alarm because there’s no reason to run for more than thirty minutes ever. I don’t enjoy it, it’s cold out here, and frankly, I don’t want Apollo to get joint problems. I spin in a circle to head the opposite direction.
“We need to head back,” I tell Millie who’s running in place in her reflective blue jacket and patchwork leggings. She makes or modifies all her clothes, usually from thrift store finds. Thrift stores–also miraculous.
“I need three more miles. I’ll let you know what the vet says.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.” I try to sound reassuring. “Have a great day.”
“You, too. Tell Deacon I said hi, and if he ever wants any information on running outside, I’m right across the hall, and I’m always looking for a running buddy.”
I bet she is. It’s no secret she’s got a big crush on my roommate. She’s around all the time, always popping over for a cooking tip or to give him some little gift she made like a candle or a macramé wall hanging. As far as I know, she’s never asked him out, and I have no idea whether he’d say yes.
Some things about Deacon make perfect sense to me, and others leave me hopelessly guessing.
When I get home, Deacon has vacated the living room, and I expect he’ll be leaving for work soon. I make coffee, but only enough for myself. He drinks espresso, and I don’t know how to work his fancy machine. Also, I don’t like espresso. Isaac does, though. He drinks so much of it, I swear I can taste it in his cum. He’s probably got a machine even better than Deacon’s. Although, that’s assuming he makes his own, and honestly, who the fuck knows. Isaac is such a stupidly charming blend of “I got this” and absolute cluelessness.
Like he’ll put together a complicated spreadsheet in seven minutes, but try to get him to order a salad from the deli on a delivery app? Impossible—Evan—get in here.
What should I wear for him today?I wonder as I stare into my closet, waiting for something to inspire me.
The soft knock on my door startles me and Apollo, who barks at Deacon, but only once.
“Hey,” my roommate says to me and then to the dog, “Sorry.”
I’m in my underwear and have an overwhelming urge to cover myself. I reach for the bed, trying to grab the throw blanket, but wind up gripping a pillow and using it to cover my front. This went from awkward to ridiculous in no time.
“Hey. What’s up?”
His gaze has already averted. He’s focused on the newly asleep dog on my bed. “Sorry for waking you earlier.”
“You didn’t,” I lie. I don’t actually mind Deacon being diligent about his workouts. Maybe I should. If we’re just roommates, it should annoy me that he’s noisy at five a.m., but between that, his cooking and his dimples, it’s all just…charming.
Sometimes I wonder if maybe the fantasy of Deacon is better than actuallyhavingDeacon. What if hooking up with him meant a one night stand and a lot of ensuing awkwardness? What if we decided to date for a while, and it didn’t workout? What if he really does have an out of town girlfriend or boyfriend, and I turn into a way to pass the time like I am with Isaac? I’m not sure I’d be able to shove my feelings to the back burner the way I can in the office. While I remember all my unrequited crushes super fondly, I can’t say the same about the people I was actually involved with.
Except Hunter? Maybe.
“Sorry about missing Sunday,” Deacon says. “I looked up that restaurant you were talking about. It looks good. Are you free Wednesday night?”
My eyes blow wide open, and I immediately work to school my expression into something more casual.
He’s not looking at me anyway, so it doesn’t really matter if I’m making heart eyes at him. “I think so.” If I’m not, I’ll make sure I will be.
“Cool. I wanted to talk to you about something, so…” he trails off and starts backing out of the room.
Wait. That’s not what I agreed to. He can’t drop a bomb like that and run.
“Wait—Deac—should I be nervous?”
“Huh?” He pops his head back in the room, and I can’t help but notice he’s practically glowing today. Was it the workout? His shower? Espresso?
“Is it bad? What you wanna talk to me about?”
“Oh—no. Just, you know…roommate stuff. Nothing serious.”
I might have a heart attack. “That actually does sound serious. Do I need to start looking for another place?”
