“You are not cleaning up his mess,” Memphis states and looks past me to Oswald, who is already getting up and scooping the crumbs on the couch into his palm.
“Where’s your vacuum?” Oswald asks, standing from a crouched position.
“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him dismissively and try to move past him so I can get to the kitchen.
“For my sake, tell me where it is so I don’t have to listen to him later.” Oswald gives me sweet puppy dog eyes, and I fold.
“Come on.” I try to shimmy past him with the plates, and he turns at the same time so my butt ends up brushing against his front while I’m navigating the space between him, the couch, and the table. I feel like apologizing, since I’m always bumping into them, but I pretend it didn’t happen instead.
After putting the plates in the sink, I open the laundry room door on the other side of the kitchen. Thankfully, I don’t have a mess of clothes on the floor. As I reach for the handle of my stick vacuum, Oswald lays his hand over mine. Awareness tingles up my arm, and I look over my shoulder.
He’s almost close enough to kiss. My eyes drop to his lips, and in my head, I hear,She must be loaded. I jerk my arm back and watch his face as a curious frown slips over his features. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” I try to sound unaffected, but I don’t do a great job. Here I was, thinking about kissing him, and I hear his voice in my head wondering about how much money I have. Not my finest moment.
The splash of water hitting the sink pulls me out of my head, and I remember I’m not supposed to just be staring at him. That’s something a crazy person would do.
“Please let me get that.” I reach toward the vacuum, but I don’t get close enough to touch him.
“No way, just tell me how to turn this thing on.” He tucks my Dyson closer to his chest.
“Pull the trigger right there by your finger.” I point.
The machine whirrs to life for just a moment, and his eyes go wide before he releases the trigger and the sound dies just as quickly.
Oswald
Waylynn scoots back from me as I start to leave her utility room as if she’s afraid I’m going to try to snatch her up. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I wish I could rewind time.
Two minutes ago, she was looking at my lips like she wondered what they tasted like, but then she jerked away as if my skin was on fire. I want to ask what happened, but she actually looks kind of freaked out.
Memphis is loading the dishwasher like he fucking lives here when I walk out of the room. I’ve never once seen him so comfortable in someone else’s house, and we’ve stayed at a few. He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, watching me as I push the weird ass vacuum back to the living room. I tip my head back toward Waylynn and give him a look, letting him know there’s something up.
His eyes skip behind me, and I know he’s watching her emerge from the room I just did. “You didn’t need to do that,” she tells him dolefully.
“Roommates are supposed to clean up after themselves.”
I pretend to keep walking, but really, I just go to the other side of the doorway, where they won’t be able to see me listening to their conversation. I’m familiar with that teasing tone from Memphis, and I want to know why he is so comfortable with her, plus I really want to know what this roommate business is about.
“You told her yourself, you’re not really my roommate, and guests don’t need to clean up after themselves,” Waylynn counters.
“The idea is growing on me,” Memphis tells her as if being her roommate is really an option. What the hell? Did she ask him to be her roommate? Why not me? Plus, we can’t afford a place like this anyway. The only way we could afford a place like this is if I go pro, and that’s not happening for a few years, if ever.
“Sure it is.” Her tone is dismissive and patronizing, which is kind of weird. What am I missing? “I’m going to see if Oswald needs any help.”
Oh damn. I pick up the vacuum and haul ass to the living room, hoping I can get there before she catches me eavesdropping.
Memphis
I’m temptedto stop Waylynn when she leaves the kitchen, but I let her go. I don’t know what happened in the few minutes she was alone with Oz, but something did. I would have known even if he didn’t tell me something was up.
I can see it in the set of her shoulders and the way her full lips are curled down at the corners, but she must not be too upset with him, because she’s going to find him now, or maybe she just wants to get away from me that badly. Did I push her too much with the roommate thing? I really hope not, because there was truth to my words. I can see us here with her.
The minute she told the old lady next door I was going to be living with her, it felt fucking right, like we’d stepped into a future I didn’t know I wanted so badly until it was dangled right in front of my face.
I make my way back to the living room and watch as Oz finishes cleaning the floor near the sofa. Waylynn is standing a few feet back, looking in his direction, but I know she’s not seeing him. Her eyes are unfocused, and she’s too busy rubbing her thumb nail along her lip.
Just as the vacuum shuts off, a phone vibrates. I tap my pocket out of habit, but it’s not mine. Waylynn looks around as if she’s been pulled into the present but doesn’t know why. The phone buzzes again, and she eyes me and Oswald.
