Page 5 of Cuffed to my Roomies
“Something smells amazing in here,” he said.
He was shirtless. I deliberately put down the paring knife so I wouldn’t accidentally chop off my finger because I was distracted by his pecs and biceps. His low-slung sweatpants showed off washboard abs and a narrow trail of hair that disappeared into the waistband at his hips. I swallowed hard.
“It’s the Axe body wash I borrowed,” I said.
“Strange. When Brett uses it, I’m not the least bit attracted to him,” Derek said, raising one eyebrow mischievously. I looked down, color flooding my cheeks.
“I think you smell the frittata. I wanted to make breakfast, thank you boys for helping me out.”
“No thanks needed. We were both sworn to serve and protect.”
“Still, most people wouldn’t have stopped to see if I needed help, much less given me a ride and a place to stay. I appreciate it. And I’m sorry I acted weird about it. I’m not used to asking for help or needing it. I’m pretty—”
“And independent. Pretty and independent,” he said.
“Um, thanks. I was going to say pretty cautious. I don’t get in the car with strangers, whether they have a badge or not. Thank you for being understanding and—for being good people. There’s too many bad ones out there,” I said.
“You’re preaching to the choir on that one. I’m a cop. Nearly all I see are the bad ones, the ones who sell drugs and beat up their landlords and steal cars.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“Somebody has to protect the innocent,” he said, his mouth grim, “If what I do keeps one asshole from beating up his kids or getting behind the wheel when he’s drunk, it’s worth it.”
“Careful, I might start to think you’re noble,” I teased.
“I’m not. I’m just a man trying to do the right thing. That shouldn’t be a big deal. It should be what’s expected. Men doing what we’re supposed to—protect the weak, stand up for what’s right.”
“That’s pretty revolutionary,” I said, “Next thing you’ll be saying that everyone should pay their bills and take responsibility for their actions.”
“Exactly. People might start to think I’m crazy. I mean, I pick up strange girls by the side of the road.” He grinned, and I was pretty sure my heart flipped over.
“I’m not strange. I’m just an intern with car trouble. I was really lucky you stopped.”
“No,” he said forcefully, “every car that passed you should have stopped. That’s what’s wrong with people—no one wants to help. Everyone just wants to pass judgment instead of serving one another.”
“Most people don’t want to get involved with somebody else’s problems. All I’m saying is that I’m glad you and Brett aren’t like that. You looked out for me. I won’t forget that.”
“Are you like the Godfather or something? Because if you’re looking to return the favor, there’s a desk sergeant down at the precinct who’s always making me redo paperwork. You could have him rubbed out for me.”
I gaped at him.
Derek laughed, “You should see your face! I was kidding. Thanks for breakfast. I’m going out for a run.”
As he went to change clothes, Brett came out, much less wide awake than Derek had been. He nodded to me, scooped food onto his plate and shoveled it in without speaking.
“Listen I really appreciate what you guys did for me last night. I’m going to call a tow truck and get that sorted out this morning, maybe find a paying job and a place to live. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
He practically grunted, “You’re fine,” around a mouthful of frittata. He took his empty plate to the sink and, with a mumble, disappeared into his bedroom again. I wondered if my presence in the guest room was keeping him from his workout or if he just wasn’t a morning person. Or if he didn’t like me as much as Derek did. I admitted to myself at least that I was very attracted to them both—Derek with his flirting, his outgoing nature, and Brett who had been so considerate but was shier, more standoffish. As I got dressed, I found myself sitting on the bed, not looking up a towing service, but thinking of the way Derek’s rock hard chest and abs had looked—the fact that, despite the small town good girl that I was, I wanted to lick caramel sauce off of him. I stifled a laugh, imagining the look on his face if I asked to do just that. Like if I bought a jar of caramel topping and said, “Hey, if you’re not busy later, can I lick this off of your naked body?” I shook my head. The combination of car trouble and not getting the room I’d planned on renting had apparently made me crazy. Because that wasn’t the kind of thing I went around thinking about.
4
I pulled myself together, made some calls and looked at online job boards. In no time, I hopped a bus downtown and interviewed for a waitress position. I could work there in the evenings, leaving my days free for the internship at Envy. Cinders was an up and coming gastropub that seemed to do a brisk business. I’d be waiting tables in a tiny green tee and black pants with a little black apron, hustling artisanal burgers and fresh kale chips to the hipster diners, bringing loaded pasta nachos to the bar. It was work I could handle and a schedule I was almost sure I could manage. The start time was really close to when I finished at Envy, and it would be a push to change clothes and make it in time. I’d just have to focus and be efficient.
