Page 8 of Oblivious Roommate

Cass snorts and lets go of my face. “I see you’re back to normal.”

“Is that him?” Logan asks, leaning weirdly close to Cass and nudging him with the shoulder. His eyes, gray as dishwater—probably the single ugly thing about him—take me in as if I were an annoying chihuahua he’d unexpectedly found in his partner’s bed.

“It is him,” I say, forcing a smile. At least Cass told Logan about me. “I just moved in today. But he hasn’t mentioned a boyfriend.”

It comes out a bit mean, and I regret it when I see Cass’s face squish a little in discomfort, but I can’t take it back now.

Logan sighs. “Cass did say he’s gonna ease you into things, so I get it.” He turns to the guy still cleaning his laptop with a napkin. “You okay there, Aaron? Is your Great American Novel intact?”

The guy’s pale green eyes are serious when he looks up at us from his spot at a tiny table. “It’s not—Never mind. It’s fine.”

“I’m so sorry, man!” I say quickly, getting up once more. “Is this like a… date situation?” I ask Logan and Cass. “I could go, our apartment is close.” Which he probably knows, because it’s where he and Cass fuck.

Does Cass fuck him?

Or does he fuck Cass?

My brain is about to melt at the idea of this big guy on top of my Cass, making him moan, touching him all over—

It’s such a weird thing to imagine, so why am I doing it?

Cass is red. “Calm down, okay? You’re right, I should have told you.”

“I am calm,” I say despite my heartbeat going way beyond the territory of cardio. I’m officially on my way to a heart attack.

The girl who brought me the water earlier shoves another glass at me with concern passing over her round features. “Dude, drink. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

I accept it, cradling the drink in both my hands as she pushes me against the backrest. “No… I just got a bit overwhelmed from the lack of air,” I say and hide behind the glass, gulping down the icy water.

This is the worst day of my life.

I embarrassed Cass, and the Logan dude is staring at me with a mocking half-smile. I want to splash the damn water in his face. What if I pretended to trip and spilled it over him? Too obvious?

“Maybe I should leave you to it?” Logan asks after a moment, no doubt not wanting to be associated with the likes of me.

I raise my hands. “No, no, you stay, I’ll go! I can sit…” I look around and my gaze meets Aaron’s. I walk up to him. “With this guy here. Aaron, right? I owe you a drink for scaring you with half-chewed food bombs. I hope I didn’t do any damage?” He abruptly closes his computer when I try peeking at the screen. He’s really protective of that Great American Novel.

“It’s okay,” Aaron says and the tiniest wrinkle appears between his brows. His face is smooth as if he never had a pimple in his life. From the collar of his shirt to his leather loafers, he looks like the kind of guy who lives at the library.

Cass entwines his fingers on his nape, which tells me he’s on the brink between frustration and anger, and I desperately need to keep this situation from escalating.

Logan lets out a chuckle and pulls away the chairs standing between the two tables. “I hope you’re up for a double date, because it’s happening.”

Aaron’s lips shut, and he pulls the computer to his chest, as if it were a shield. Oh, he does not want to sit with Cass or Logan, but especially not with the stranger who caused all this mess.

It’s inconsiderate of Logan to force this situation on a friend. Sure, I might have been the one to propose it, but it was just a knee-jerk reaction to Logan’s presence. Ignoring Aaron’s obvious discomfort, Logan pushes the table together and faces the girl, who watches them with disapproval, picking at her short ‘fro.

“Look, Quinta, I promise I’ll arrange them back to how they were once we’re done.”

She rolls up the sleeves of her shirt, showing off her thick arms, as if in warning. “Fine, but I’ll be watching you. What are you having?”

Logan licks his lips, glancing toward the massive coffee machine. “Just black coffee.”

I mentally roll my eyes, because of course this dude would never let even a drop of creamer spoil his manly black brew. It’s not normal to drink burnt bean water without anything to soften its flavor.

The preppy Timothée Chalamet impersonator goes a step further and orders an espresso.

Quinta walks off, and I shuffle closer to Aaron, not wanting to impose on the happy couple. Cass watches me with a frown, but what is the point in making things more complicated than they have to be? Wasn’t it Logan who suggested it was a double d—