The Roommate Pact(8)
“His name isn’t Napoleon.”
“What is it?”
“Marvin.”
He choked on air. “No, it’s not.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Don’t make fun of him.”
“You’re not marrying a guy named Marvin. What’s his last name?”
“That’s not important.” Yeah, that didn’t make him less interested at all. “You don’t know anything about him.” Her voice lacked heat, but Claire wasn’t the type to back down from an argument, no matter how small.
“Fine, I’m judging the dude based on appearance, a weak-ass kiss, and your less-than-enthused description of the date. But from that information alone I’d bet my next paycheck you were bored to death.”
Her lips twisted to the side and she looked down at her feet.
“Am I right?”
“Maybe. A little.” She sighed. “But it was a first date. Shouldn’t I give him another chance?”
“If you want to. Or don’t waste your time and come out with me next weekend instead.”
Her eyes went wide. “On a date?”
He huffed out a laugh. “No. I meant, like, our usual. We’re pretty good at finding people for each other. Remember that chef I scoped out for you last year? You were with him for a few months, right?”
“Sam? Yeah, until he ghosted me.”
“Seriously? You didn’t tell me that.”
She snorted. “You want me to tell you every time a man screws me over?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You gonna defend my honor?”
“Maybe. Friends do that, right?”
“I’d certainly punch Noah if he ever hurt Mia.”
“He’d die before he hurt her.”
Claire smiled softly. “I know. Anyway, I saw Sam not too long after he stopped answering my texts, and you know me... I marched up asked him what happened. Talk about awkward, but I wanted him to tell me to my face what went wrong. He said I was too outspoken and he realized he’d never be able to take me home to meet his mother.”
“Dumbass,” Graham muttered. His mom would adore Claire—all the more reason for them never to meet. He didn’t need that kind of pressure.
He tried to remember anything else about that guy, but Graham had only spent time with him a few times when he’d tried to show off and cook dinner for the entire house. “His food sucked, anyway.”
“No it didn’t. It was fucking delicious.”
She was right.
“Add that to the list of reasons men don’t want me. I can’t cook,” she said.
“So?”
“Don’t men want a woman who cooks?”
Graham waved a dismissive arm. “Who cares? There are dozens of places that deliver within a five-mile radius of here. I say it’s better to support local businesses.”
“Well. You’re a minority in that, I think.” She looked at him for a moment before pushing off from the counter. She nudged his knee and gave him a small smile. “I’m gonna head to bed. Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”
“Trying?”
“Okay, thanks for making me feel better. A little.”
Gertrude growled from her perch on the armchair as Claire passed.
“Thinking about marrying me now, aren’t you?” he called after her.
She didn’t miss a beat.
“Not a chance.”
3
One week later, Claire sent Graham a text message halfway through her shift that said, I hate you.
After she’d seen Marvin that morning, Graham’s voice had been in her head all day. A guy like that isn’t right for you.
She’d spotted Marvin across the nursing station and given him a little wave, thinking he’d come over. His cheeks had flushed and he glanced away before looking back to smile at her. For a second it seemed he might approach her, but then he turned and went in the other direction, his navy scrubs billowing around his thin frame as he speed-walked down the hall.
He was incredibly nice. Sweet. Gentle.
And like Graham said, definitely not her type. It wasn’t that she didn’t like nice guys, or even sweet guys. She just wanted a little more...assertion. Fire. Confidence. It hit her as she watched Marvin walk away and pictured in her mind what would happen if she caught up with him and suggested they meet for a little rendezvous in the supply closet later.
He’d probably turn bright red and decline without looking her in the eye, mumbling something about it being inappropriate.
And yeah, it was inappropriate. But it was also hot and exciting and she’d always wanted to do it.
Then another image popped into her brain: how Graham would react in the same situation. He’d grab her hand and drag her down the hall to take care of it right now. As soon as the door shut, cloaking them in darkness, he’d grab her by the pockets of her scrubs and pull her against his body, knocking gauze and tubing off the shelves as he kissed her with the raw passion of a man consumed by his need for her.
Which immediately pissed her off for two reasons:
1. She didn’t want Graham to be right, and she would have been excited to go out with Marvin again if Graham hadn’t pointed out how incompatible they were. (Probably. Maybe.)