He’s right. I don’t. “I also don’t want to live with a person who judges me before knowing me. Who makes assumptions about my character and my intentions. Especially when that person is going to be my bossandlandlord.” I puff my cheeks out on an exhale, hoping the frustration with this entire day somehow exits my body with my breath.
“I get that. I fucked up and I’m so, so sorry about that. You have no idea. I might be an asshole sometimes, but I know how to own up to my mistakes, and I’m owning this. But I’m not your boss, and I don’t love the idea of being a landlord either, so how about you stay here for however long you need. No need to pay rent. What if we’re just roommates and coworkers without any fancy titles or positions that put anyone above the other? We can start over. As equals.”
Roommates. Coworkers.
What alternate reality have I entered where the man Imet at a bar, of all places, ends up also being both of those things?
Arthur leans against the wall, hands going to his pockets, and I mimic his stance solely because my ability to hold myself up has suddenly vanished.
This day is giving me whiplash.
NINE
now i know why he called me a stubborn idiot
Arthur
The shock on her face perfectly matches how I feel. I offered to let a stranger live here for free after accusing her of being drunk and/or on drugs. But that accusation never felt quite right. I can tell when someone is using something. It’s a skill I honed after years of hiding my own addiction from those closest to me.
Maybe a part of me chose to believe she was under the influence of something because I needed a reason not to want her, to not want to be near her. I never would have guessed she had an alcohol intolerance, but I’m sure I would have known if I had bothered to listen to Beau earlier. He tried to tell me something, and I shut him down. Now I know why he called me a stubborn idiot before walking away and leaving me alone like I asked.
“I can pay you.” She raises her chin, but I don’t miss the slight wobble in it. “I’m no freeloader, and I don’t like owing people anything, so as much as you’ve offended me today.” She pauses, swallowing and narrowing her eyes atme. I deserve it. “Staying here temporarily is still somehow better than dealing with the alternative. I’ll pay you rent until I find another place to live.” She rubs at the back of her neck and winces. The movement reminds me that she mentioned having a headache. If hers are anything like my brother Raf’s, she must be in a world of pain right now.
“I understand not wanting to owe people anything. Believe me. But you said you’re not feeling well, so why don’t you go get some rest, and we can figure this all out later?” Her only response is a relieved sigh and a nod. “Can I get you some tea? Do you need anything?”
At that, her gaze meets mine, and all the warmth in the amber eyes I was so entranced by is gone. “No, other than needing to share a house for a short time, I don’t need anything from you, Arthur.” After stepping back, she closes the door more softly than I deserve, and I mentally punch myself in the face for so royally fucking this up.
She’s my roommate. My coworker. The woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since our eyes locked for the first time.
How is this mess my life?
There has beenno sign of Alice for the last two days. The woman is like a ghost. I know she’s been to the main barn because everyone else has seen her. I’ve asked Gear and Mouse about her, and they both gave me pointed looks, because apparently it’s unusual for me to ask about anyone multiple times a day. Sue me. I’d like to know if my roommate is going to ignore me forever.
When she’s home, she moves silently through the house and seems to have perfected the art of avoiding me and Luther. My dog is desperate to be around her, but if she gets home before me, she doesn’t let him out. He has a tracker on his collar, since he’s a bit of an escape artist and too damn curious for his own good, so I know he hasn't left the house.
I can relate to his curiosity, though, because with every passing hour, I want to know more about Alice, and it has nothing to do with the fact she’s living in my house. It has everything to do with the way I felt when I saw her smile for the first time, when we danced like we’d done it a million times before. I want to know her.
Now it’s the weekend,and I figure since we’re both off today, there’s no way she’ll be able to avoid me. But by the time I get out of bed at six, she’s already gone. She didn’t come home until after eleven last night, but she’s gotta be back at some point, so I’m gonna wait her out. I have nothing better to do, anyway.
As I finish cleaning the house and settle onto the front porch swing with a coffee and a book, the telltale sound of tires on the gravel driveway has Luther running at full speed, barking with excitement. He’s not dumb enough to get too close to cars when they’re moving, but as soon as Alice’s Jeep comes to a full stop, he’s at her door, tail wagging so hard it makes his entire body shake. He lets out a bark and sits, waiting for her to come out. But she doesn’t. Not after she turns the car off, and not after her seatbelt is no longer on. She stares at him, then at me, wide-eyed and looking… scared? No. She couldn’t be scared of Luther, could she? I mean, we never talked about it since we haven’t talked about much of anything, but I was sure it was fine. Huh. This would explain him not being let out, I guess.
Finally, she mouths the wordhelp, and I have to pretend to cough as I cover up my laughter. Not at her, but at the fact she’s scared of the world’s friendliest dog. I stand, calling Luther over to me. It takes three tries before he makes it halfway to the porch, but once he hears the car door open, he’s back, pouncing to get to Alice, whose foot doesn’t even touch the ground before she shuts herself in again.
As I walk over to her, I take note of how tightly she’s gripping the steering wheel. She really is scared. Shit. I grab Luther gently by the collar and walk several feet away from the Jeep, nodding to her that she can come out.
“S-sorry, I—I don’t—Dogs scare me, a-and I know he’s friendly, but?—”
“Luther, get in the house.” The dog knows what’s good for him, so while I don’t use this harsh tone often, when I do, he knows better than not to listen. He immediately takes off, heading inside through the dog door. Certain he won’t move, I lock eyes with Alice, who is visibly shaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay.” Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle as her eyes lower to the ground. “I’ll get over it.”
That’s it. I gotta do something.
I can’t watch her like this. I place my hands on her shoulders and squeeze lightly, though I inexplicably want to hug her instead. “Luther comes on a little strong. I’m sorry. I should have asked you how you felt about dogs.”
“It’s fine. It’s not your job to?—”
“I’m your roommate, and I want to be a good one. I should have asked.” As I rub circles on her shoulder with my thumbs, she relaxes. “Can I ask what happened tomake you scared?” Her body tenses again. “I want to understand and do what I can to help and keep Luther from triggering you.”
