Page 57 of The Roommate Problem
“But families are supposed to talk about things, agree on them, include everyone,” she argued.
They were supposed to, but life rarely did what it was supposed to do, he’d learned.
“My family always keeps each other in the loop about our lives.”
“Really?” He had a hard time imagining a family dynamic like that.
“Yes.” She nodded. “It’s how I know my oldest brother and his husband are thinking about adopting a second baby, and my mom hates hot flashes more than she hates creamed spinach. And she really hates creamed spinach.”
Wow, okay. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be that close to his mom. Some things a son didn’t need to know. But it made him wonder just how much Mo had shared with her family about him. About them. He wanted to ask, but he also wasn’t sure he would like the answer. No matter what it was.
“The only person who’s ever included me in everything is Gran.” He smiled. “Whenever I came to stay with her in the summers, she always asked what I wanted to do, always gave me her schedule for the day, and made adjustments if I needed something. She never made me feel like an outsider in her life.”
Which was why he so desperately wanted to take care of her now. She provided him the only space he truly felt at home as a kid. He wanted to give her a home now. One where she’d always be taken care of. By him.
“Your grandmother tells you everything?” her soft voice asked.
“Yup.”
“What if…what if she kept something from you? For your own good? To keep you from worrying?”
He glanced down at her. “That would be lying, and lying isn’t good for anyone. Besides, Gran knows I don’t worry about problems. I take care of them.”
Mo pulled away, shifting on the couch, her demeanor changing, closing off. She grabbed the bag of popcorn, now empty except for a few unpopped kernels at the bottom. She stared intently at the bag, brow furrowed as if the answer to some complex math problem lay in the emptiness of the popcorn vessel. He wondered what he’d said to cause her to pull back, but before he could ask about it, she tore off a piece of the paper bag and stuck it in her mouth.
He reeled back in horror. “What are you doing?”
She glanced up at him, pulling the bit of paper out, scraping her teeth along it as she smiled and popped the paper out of her mouth.
“Licking the salt and butter off the bag,” she said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “It’s delicious. Try it.”
She held the bag out to him. August leaned back so far the arm of the couch cracked his spine. “Moira, that is disgusting.”
She arched one eyebrow, ripping off another small piece and repeating the process. “No, it’s not.”
It was. He’d seen the woman eat some pretty strange stuff, but sucking on an empty popcorn bag? Who did that?
“Come on.” She threw a leg over his lap and straddled him, tearing off another small part of the bag and holding it up to his lips. “Just one little lick.”
Hell no. He might be willing to branch out of his comfort zone a bit for her, but this was crossing a line. He did not eat literal trash.
“It tastes really good, I promise,” she insisted.
Plucking the paper from her fingers, he tossed it on the coffee table. He grasped the back of her neck in a gentle hold, tugging her closer to him. Their lips were a breath apart.
“I can think of something that tastes even better.”
He felt her smile as he pressed his lips to hers, thrusting his tongue inside when she opened for him. Yes. Nothing tasted as good as Mo. The woman was quickly becoming an addiction. He craved her, needed her. And not just to warm his bed. More and more he was finding he liked spending time with her, whether they were in bed or sitting around watching TV. And how the hell had she got him to open up about his childhood? He never shared that with anyone.
Somehow, Mo made him feel…safe. He could tell her anything, and he knew she wouldn’t judge. She’d give her opinion loud and clear, but it came from a place of wanting to help. And she had. The tears she shed for him, the anger she voiced over his upbringing, validated his own feelings on the matter. And somehow that made him feel like he could start letting some of that resentment go.
How did she do that?
Mo pulled back, a warm smile on her face. “Mmmm, you’re right. That was more delicious.”
“You’re amazing, Mo.”
Her eyes widened, shock filling their golden depths. August froze. He hadn’t meant to say that. It’d been in his head and just sort of popped out. Now he didn’t know what to do. He could take it back, but that’d be a dick move. And he didn’t really want to take it back. He meant it. She was amazing. But he shouldn’t have said it. It implied things he wasn’t ready to admit.
