Full Package

“Why not? That’s how people meet these days.” She gestures to me. “Where do you meet women?”


Most of the women I’ve been involved with in my late twenties have been doctors or nurses, to be honest, or chicks I met at a bar and banged. Hey, it happens. I don’t say all that to Josie, though.

“Work, usually. That’s where I meet people.” I rub a hand over my jaw, processing what online dating might mean. “Are you going to bring home some dude you meet online?”

She laughs. “You said that as if it tasted like vinegar.”

It kind of did. Truthfully, I hadn’t noodled on this part of the roommate equation. While I didn’t think either one of us would monk it up and practice celibacy, I hadn’t factored in the impact of another person’s love life, either. Shit, now I need to think about the nuances of her bringing dudes home. Like finding a sock on the doorknob when I get off work. That image doesn’t sit well with me. “Will there be a tube sock to warn me to stay away?”

She winks. “No, a sexy black lace thong.”

I nearly stumble on a sidewalk crack. She’d look good in a black thong. She’d look good in a pink one. A white one. Any color. Oh fuck, and soon she might even walk around the apartment in just—

“And for the record, I do not strut around the apartment wearing nothing but heels and underwear.”

Damn. There goes that dream. But maybe I can resurrect it. “Any chance you’d consider making that fashion statement? Say, in about three days, once I move in?”

She laughs as she shakes her head. “I don’t think either one of us wants to be caught with our pants down. Let’s be honest. I was looking for a female roommate because it’s just easier for a woman to live with a woman. Same reason you were looking for your own place. But neither one of us had any luck. Now, we just have to be thoughtful and considerate of the fact that we’re a man and a woman who are good friends living together, and we’ll have to adjust to things like the other person dating, and me possibly bringing home a guy or you potentially bringing home a girl, right?”

I nod. She’s right, even though I wish she weren’t. And while it’s not like I was hitting it and quitting it every single night, something about bringing a woman home to a place I’ll share with Josie seems . . . odd. Even so, it’s best to be prepared. “Yeah, we’ll need a plan.”

“Exactly.”

“Should we just do what any good roommate does? Screw someone in the bathroom at a bar before we go home?” I suggest innocently, batting my eyes.

She swats my arm as we cross the street. “You’re terrible. I simply mean that we’ll need a code word. A heads-up. I’ll text you, or you’ll text me with that word.”

“Like aardvark? I’ve always thought aardvark would be an awesome code word because it’s completely obvious it’s a code word.”

She calls me on my bluff, narrowing her eyes as we reach the block with her building. “Aardvark it is. But what if things get awkward between us?”

“What would be awkward between us?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Like maybe if you’re showering when I come home, how will I know to stay out of the bathroom?”

I furrow my brow. “Wouldn’t the sound of the shower be all you need to stay out?”

She snaps her fingers. “Good point. I guess I was just thinking . . . if anything felt awkward between us . . .” She waves her hand from her to me and back.

Ohhhhhh.

I get it now.

I pretend to whisper. “You mean,” I say, taking my time to drawl out each syllable, “sex-u-al tension?”

Her cheeks flush. “No. I just mean awkward. I don’t mean that. Just that we’re a man and a woman living together. It’s just smart to be prepared for any . . . weirdness.”

“Just kidding, Josie,” I say, and drape an arm around her. “Things will never be awkward between us. But if they ever get that way, just say ‘Swedish Fish.’ That will be our safe word.”

“But then how do we defuse the tension?”

I tap my chin. “That’s a very good question.”

Neither one of us has an answer.

A few minutes later, we enter her building, head to the elevator, and shoot up six floors. As we walk down the hall, she gives me her preamble. “Both rooms are tiny. When Charlotte moved out to live with Spencer, Mr. Barnes gave approval so that we could have Wyatt turn the one-bedroom apartment into two bedrooms so Natalie and I could live here.”

She unlocks the door, guides me through the living room, and swings open the entrance to my new bedroom.

My eyebrows shoot into my hairline. It’s the size of . . . well, of a mattress. The bed is up against the wall, and if the other room is the same size as this one, that means my bed will be next to her bed.

One thin wall will separate us.

Talk about Swedish Fish.





5