The Roommate Read Online Free PDF Page B

advice?”
    “If you must know, I did not.”
    “Then why are you in such a good mood if you didn’t get laid?”
    “This is my normal mood.”
    “Not first thing in the morning, it’s not.”
    “I ate breakfast. That’s all that’s different.”
    “With your houseguest?”
    “Lydia!”
    “Must’ve been some breakfast.”   She walked away shaking her head.
    I sighed.   What had gotten into her?   She normally never showed interest in my life because of her #1 rule—you come to work to work.
    I waited until lunchtime to text Patrick my number.   Didn’t want to seem eager.   He confirmed I was now on his contact list.
    This morning’s conversation had given me a thrill.   He remembered me.   Sure, he could just have a good memory and it was a little detail that didn’t matter—except now it did, and I couldn’t stop smiling about it.   It’s silly, I know, I know.
    I arrived before him this time, coming straight home, and changed clothes.   It was warm today, because Southern California, so I put on an old soft t-shirt and shorts.   Sat on my balcony with a bowl of ice cream.
    He walked in at 5:30.   “Hi.”
    “Hey. How was your second day?”
    Since it was Casual Friday, he wore chinos instead of slacks with his shirt and tie.   The tie was loosened.   “My brain might explode.”
    “What happened?”
    He sat on the sofa.   “Nothing wrong. My trainer is intense. I think he’s trying to stuff a month of knowledge in my brain in a week.”
    “Oh.”   I walked inside and shut the door.   “Ice cream?”
    “Before dinner?”
    “We’re grown-ups. We get to do things like that.”
    “You can’t tempt me with your Southern California ways.”
    Was that a challenge?   “Soon they’ll be your ways, too.”   I licked another bite off my spoon.  
    His eyes focused on it.   “Crazy talk.”
    I shrugged.   “If you say so.”   Sat next to him and continued eating Phish Food.   “Care to make a wager on it?”
    “What do you have in mind?”
    Now he asked , I didn’t have a clue.   “Um. If you turn into a true Californian, you have to cook me dinner.”
    “And if I don’t?”
    “What do you want?”
    “This is silly.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    “It’s a lopsided bet.”
    “You’re such a square.”
    “What?”
    OMG.   “Have you never seen a fifties movie?”
    His brow arched.   “You are a strange woman, Jessica Brookfield.”
    “Fine, don’t play.”   I pouted.   “Just for that, I’m not sharing my ice cream.”   And put the pint in the freezer.
    He laughed.   The tie had been tossed on top of his suitcase.
    “So, Mr. Stick in the Mud, what are you going to do with your weekend?”
    “Scope out apartments close to work.”
    “There are a couple sites that can help with that.”
    He reached for his laptop.   “Show me.”
    I took it away from him.   “Tomorrow. It’s Friday night, so you’re going to relax. House rules.”
    “Really.”
    “Absolutely.”
    “I don’t see any posted rules.”
    “Because I’m a good tenant that doesn’t put nail holes in walls I don’t own. Do you have a suit? There’s a pool in the complex.”   And hot tub.
    “No.”
    “You’ll have to remedy that. Everyone in California owns at least one swimsuit.”
    “Okay, Jess.”
    “So? Movie night in? Movie night out? Tourist tour? See the nightlife? What’s your poison?”
    “Do you know if there’s a 24-Hour Fitness nearby?”
    I blinked.   “You want to go to the gym?”
    “It’s been almost a week.”
    “You can do that this weekend.”
    He stood.   “No offense, Jess, but I could use some time to myself.”
    “Oh. Okay. Of course. Have a good run or whatever it is you do.”
    He nodded, grabbed some clothes, and went into the bathroom.   Obviously wasn’t going to work out in those chinos.   Speaking of, he was the first person I knew who didn’t wear jeans on Casual Friday—though maybe this was as casual as his company