The Roommate Pact(69)

Nothing would ever be okay.

The soothing voice had kept going, though, the gentle touch moving to her hair, her neck, her shoulder. And then she opened her eyes and found herself here, in this bed, in the darkness—Graham’s devastatingly handsome face watching her, brow marred with concern.

He said she’d had a bad dream and when she realized he was here and alive and touching her, she’d nearly blurted out, I love you.

She’d kissed him and made love to him instead, and now, in the light of the morning, she was thankful. Thankful she’d said it without words, because it was safer that way. For both of them.

She’d gotten in way too deep and let him do the same, and what happened last night was proof it would destroy her if she let it continue.

It would hurt like hell, but it was for the best. She had to put an end to whatever they were doing for both their sakes.

And she had to do it today.

Claire loved on Gertrude for a few minutes before getting out of bed. Just as she pulled on the tank top Graham had tossed onto the floor in the middle of the night, her phone dinged from the nightstand.

Mia: How was the weekend getaway?

Claire groaned and sat back down, sinking into the mattress.

Claire: I wouldn’t call it a getaway. Graham was supporting his family and I just helped him get there.

And he gave me a glimpse into his childhood, his life, and his deepest insecurities. I adore his mother and his dog is now my favorite. I realized I’ve fallen in love with him.

Thank God for texting. It was so much easier to lie by omission when she wasn’t looking her best friend in the eye.

Mia: Noah’s been camping in New Mexico with Graham and still has never met Graham’s parents.

Claire: Probably because it was a guys’ camping trip. And I’m sure Graham would have taken him if Noah had asked.

Maybe.

Mia: Doubtful.

Claire: I’m sure Graham found it more fun to bring along someone he’s sleeping with.

Another lie—a semiromantic companion was the last person Graham would have usually brought to his parent’s place. Especially now that she knew his mom’s penchant for matchmaking. And heart-stealing, for that matter. One weekend and Claire loved the woman.

Mia: So we’re just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal?

Claire: We’re trying to, but you’re not making it easy.

Mia: You won’t give me anything? Not even a single tidbit of what happened down there?

Claire: His mom beat me at gin rummy.

Mia: Did she live to tell about it?

Claire: Only because that woman is a fucking delight.

Mia: Wow, what else?

Claire: Oh, his mom heard us having sex.

Mia: WHAT

Mia: NO

Mia: OMG

Claire: And that is why, no matter how badly you want something to happen between me and Graham, it never will because I can never show my face in that house again.

Claire: That’s all you’re getting. Gertie needs a walk.

Claire tossed her phone down and glanced at Gertrude, curled up at the foot of the bed.

“Let me change and brush my teeth and then we’ll take a nice long stroll around the block, okay? I need some fresh air while I think about what I’m gonna say to your dad.”

She put on a sports bra, a fresh top, and some yoga pants before padding to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. It wasn’t until she had the toothbrush in her mouth and glanced into the mirror that she saw the note.

Check your email, Ms. Sparkles.

She frowned, her brain briefly asking, Who the hell is Ms. Sparkles? before she made the connection. Why did he want her to check her old email account?

Coffee was the next priority, but Graham had gallantly left her half a pot warming on the hot plate. She idly wondered if he’d still do gestures like that after she cut things off. Was it possible for them to go back to the friendship they’d had before, or would it become stilted and awkward?

Good thing Reagan was due back today. They could use the buffer.

She poured a fresh cup and tossed a small bone to Gertrude to distract her while Claire sat down at the computer. It took her a few tries to get the password right, but when she finally got in her account, it was populated with several emails from two senders: [email protected] and [email protected].

Graham had emailed her? What the...?

She opened the oldest one first, and her confused frown quickly shifted to a smile as she read.

You went to work and I’m bored out of my fucking mind and Noah won’t be here for another hour, so I’m trying my hand at your journaling suggestion. It still feels weird to write to no one so I’m writing to you, instead.

She laughed into the quiet house, marveling that he’d actually listened to her for once. The first email was from several weeks ago, and she glanced at the most recent—this weekend. He’d been writing to her this whole time?

She pored over the words, shaking her head, snorting, and chuckling at his whining, sarcasm, and how very Graham the emails were. It was clear that at first, he thought the entire exercise was ridiculous.

But as she continued reading, his tone began to change, and she slowed down to process each thought. Every line. Some of the written revelations had recently come out in conversation, though not in as much detail. It seemed her experience with journaling was true for him, too—sometimes it was easier to work through things on paper first. Pride filled her as she realized he’d really made an effort to process things he’d never let himself dwell on before.