“That doesn’t sound odd for a guy. Sounds like a classic grump. Yum.” Ana binge reads romance books, and they have definitely informed her opinions on men.
“But earlier this week, he came into the sandwich shop in the evening, and he was a big flirt. Full of charm, very chatty.”
“He was flirting with you?” Marissa’s voice bubbles with excitement. “Wait, I need to picture this. What exactly does he look like? Tall, dark, and handsome?”
I check the sandwich again before flipping it over. “Very tall. Several inches of him are always hanging off the yoga mat in one direction or the other.”
“Several inches?” Ana asks with a purr. “Just how many inches is he packing?”
“Oh my god, Ana. You need to lay off the smut you’re reading!”
“You’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands. Now, you can’t tell me his tight yoga pants haven’t given you a good measure of the man’s bulge.”
I shake my head, and can’t help but laugh. “No tight pants. He comes in looking like he’s ready for a game of basketball.”
“Mmm. Gray sweats, then? That’s even better. Any stretching going on in his pants while you’re stretching him into bendy poses?”
Marissa shoves a glass in Ana’s hand. “Here. Get yourself a glass of ice water. You need to cool off.”
My roommates have me genuinely smiling for what feels like the first time today.
Earlier this year, I didn’t even know these two women, and when everything went down with Rick, and I suddenly needed to share my living space with strangers in order to keep a roof over my head, I was resentful. I thought my roommate days were behind me when I was living with Rick, but I was wrong. I was wrong about so many things.
But I lucked out when these two responded to my ad.
“So he’s tall…” Marissa prompts me as she holds a plate out to receive the perfectly-browned sandwich from my spatula.
“He’s tall and lean, but really nicely built.” I side-eye Ana, expecting her to insert a double entendre, but she’s in the middle of sipping from her glass. “Thick muscles, golden-brown hair, closely-trimmed beard. If I had to compare him to a celebrity, it’d be Ryan Reynolds—when he’s all bulked up for an action role.”
“Wow. Nice. Did this gorgeous man ask for your number?”
I shake my head. “Wouldn’t give it to him if he did.”
Both of my roommates frown at me.
“We’ve only known each other for a few months, but I know you’re a heterosexual, and I know you’re not stupid. If someone who looks like Ryan Reynolds is flirting with you, why aren’t you taking off your panties and scribbling your phone number on the crotch?”
That question is from Ana, of course, and I’m really starting to wonder what goes on in the books she reads.
“You know I don’t date.”
“You don’t date because you don’t have time,” Marissa says. “You should make time for someone who’s that hot.”
My busy schedule is a convenient excuse for my complete lack of a social life. The truth is that I wouldn't want to date even if I had the time, and I have good reason, but I haven't wanted to burden my roommates with my sob story.
I flip the last sandwich and twist the knob to turn off the burners under the pan and the soup pot. “Luckily, he hasn’t asked me out, so it doesn’t matter.”
“What time is the class he attends?” Ana asks.
“Five-thirty.”
Ana sets a stack of three bowls on the counter. “Oh, shit. In the morning?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that sucks … but a woman has to do what a woman has to do, right, Marissa?”
My eyes narrow at Ana. “What are you talking about?”
