Read Online Roommate Wanted (Sharing Space #1) by Nina Perez - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nina Perez
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and their space."
"That was easy. Your turn."
"I don't have a rule so much as I want to make something clear to you. Besides being disrespectful, what Max said... Well, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I didn't move in here because I wanted to try and put the moves on you or anything like that. This is a great apartment; it's close to my work, it's ideal for me to be in the city for auditions, all the things I told you before. I have no desire to take this further than a platonic roommate relationship."
Well.
"Not that I don't think you're attractive,” he rushed to say, making matters worse.
"Uh huh."
"It's just not what I'm here for and I hope Max didn't give you that impression."
"No, of course not. I didn't think you were... in it to get with me, I mean."
"Good, cause I wouldn't want you to have the wrong idea about me. It's important that we get off to a good start."
"I agree."
"Well."
"Yeah.”
If life were a movie, that would have been the exact moment we jumped all over one another, but it wasn’t a film and for whatever reason I felt like a pervert who'd been chastised. Even though he was just trying to clear the air after Max's behavior, I couldn't help feeling like Patrick had shot me down. Not like I wanted to start something with him; I barely knew him, but did he have to sound so adamant about it? Then his phone rang and ended the awkward silence. After two rings he broke eye contact with me and pulled his phone from his pocket to answer it.
“Oh hey, Char, you got my message,” I heard him say as I made my way to the kitchen to give him some privacy. I noticed a blender and a Panini maker on the counter, signs that he spent some time in the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of wine and grabbed a take-out menu from one of the kitchen drawers. As I headed to my room, I heard Patrick tell his sister he had a full work schedule for the next few weeks.
With any luck, I'd barely notice he was here.
***
A few days later I discovered one of the many benefits of living with a man. I’d just gotten home from work after one of those long days where every client had an emergency that needed fixing yesterday, and it must have shown all over my face as I entered the apartment. Patrick was on the sofa typing on his laptop.
“Bad day?” he asked.
“On a scale of one to ten, with ten being ‘Dear God, why wasn’t I born independently wealthy?’ it was a fifteen.”
Patrick smiled and nodded towards the kitchen. “There’s a cold beer in the fridge. The last one. You deserve it.”
“A cold beer and hot shower. Perfect.”
I dropped my keys and purse on the armchair and made my way to the kitchen. Just as I took the beer from the fridge I noticed the biggest spider in the history of spiders on the counter. I let out a squeal only audible to dogs and, apparently, Patrick.
“What happened?” he yelled.
I ran back into the living room hopping from one foot to the next.
“You’re shaking up the beer.”
“Forget the beer. There’s a big spider in the kitchen.”
“How big?”
“He looks like he’s on steroids! What does it matter? Go kill it before it gets away, comes into my room at night, and eats me while I sleep.”
Patrick sighed, placed his laptop on the coffee table, and started for the kitchen. He was grinning and mumbling something that sounded a lot like, “Yeah, cause that’s logical.”
“Oh, you got jokes.”
I followed him into the kitchen then stood on my tippy toes to peek over his shoulder. I watched with relief as he first grabbed a paper towel and then headed for the spider on the counter. This quickly turned to horror as Patrick turned towards me with the little critter pinched between his fingers using the paper towel.
“What are you doing?”
“Look, it’s harmless.”
“It’s nasty. You’re nasty.
"That was easy. Your turn."
"I don't have a rule so much as I want to make something clear to you. Besides being disrespectful, what Max said... Well, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I didn't move in here because I wanted to try and put the moves on you or anything like that. This is a great apartment; it's close to my work, it's ideal for me to be in the city for auditions, all the things I told you before. I have no desire to take this further than a platonic roommate relationship."
Well.
"Not that I don't think you're attractive,” he rushed to say, making matters worse.
"Uh huh."
"It's just not what I'm here for and I hope Max didn't give you that impression."
"No, of course not. I didn't think you were... in it to get with me, I mean."
"Good, cause I wouldn't want you to have the wrong idea about me. It's important that we get off to a good start."
"I agree."
"Well."
"Yeah.”
If life were a movie, that would have been the exact moment we jumped all over one another, but it wasn’t a film and for whatever reason I felt like a pervert who'd been chastised. Even though he was just trying to clear the air after Max's behavior, I couldn't help feeling like Patrick had shot me down. Not like I wanted to start something with him; I barely knew him, but did he have to sound so adamant about it? Then his phone rang and ended the awkward silence. After two rings he broke eye contact with me and pulled his phone from his pocket to answer it.
“Oh hey, Char, you got my message,” I heard him say as I made my way to the kitchen to give him some privacy. I noticed a blender and a Panini maker on the counter, signs that he spent some time in the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of wine and grabbed a take-out menu from one of the kitchen drawers. As I headed to my room, I heard Patrick tell his sister he had a full work schedule for the next few weeks.
With any luck, I'd barely notice he was here.
***
A few days later I discovered one of the many benefits of living with a man. I’d just gotten home from work after one of those long days where every client had an emergency that needed fixing yesterday, and it must have shown all over my face as I entered the apartment. Patrick was on the sofa typing on his laptop.
“Bad day?” he asked.
“On a scale of one to ten, with ten being ‘Dear God, why wasn’t I born independently wealthy?’ it was a fifteen.”
Patrick smiled and nodded towards the kitchen. “There’s a cold beer in the fridge. The last one. You deserve it.”
“A cold beer and hot shower. Perfect.”
I dropped my keys and purse on the armchair and made my way to the kitchen. Just as I took the beer from the fridge I noticed the biggest spider in the history of spiders on the counter. I let out a squeal only audible to dogs and, apparently, Patrick.
“What happened?” he yelled.
I ran back into the living room hopping from one foot to the next.
“You’re shaking up the beer.”
“Forget the beer. There’s a big spider in the kitchen.”
“How big?”
“He looks like he’s on steroids! What does it matter? Go kill it before it gets away, comes into my room at night, and eats me while I sleep.”
Patrick sighed, placed his laptop on the coffee table, and started for the kitchen. He was grinning and mumbling something that sounded a lot like, “Yeah, cause that’s logical.”
“Oh, you got jokes.”
I followed him into the kitchen then stood on my tippy toes to peek over his shoulder. I watched with relief as he first grabbed a paper towel and then headed for the spider on the counter. This quickly turned to horror as Patrick turned towards me with the little critter pinched between his fingers using the paper towel.
“What are you doing?”
“Look, it’s harmless.”
“It’s nasty. You’re nasty.
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