He nodded. “If that’s what you need.” Life could be untidy and it’d brought its unpredictability to both their doorsteps. “Turns out I’m in the market for an indefinite roommate.”
“Thank you.” A nod but no smile. “I’ll go dress for dinner.”
“You’re fine the way you are.”
“I’m not.” She looked down at herself and squeezed his hand. “But I will be.”
He cooked. She ate, and he was glad to see color return to her cheeks. He thought about going to the gym, but lack of sleep was catching up with him.
“I, ah.” She started and stopped. She’d said almost nothing while they ate. “I wanted to thank you for last night. For staying with me. It was a gorgeous thing you did, Tom, but—” she stopped again “—I know it’s a lot to ask. I’m going in to work tomorrow and I need to sleep, and I think it would help if you’d come to bed and hold me again?”
He didn’t realize how much he’d tensed waiting for what she’d say until he was nodding. They were on opposite sides of the kitchen counter.
“I’ll sleep better if I’m in your arms and I know that’s not something I’m supposed to want and I know it’s not something you want—”
He leaned over and put his hand over her mouth. “Let’s go to bed.”
They went to bed, like last night, in Flick’s room, fully clothed and wrapped in each other. And they both slept, and in the morning Tom scrambled eggs and they left the condo together. Flick was quiet still. Her gray suit made her look washed out; there was no flash of color worn with it.
It was when they were on the street that he realized they’d lived in a roommate bubble, existing together only inside the condo. There was time to rectify that, especially if she stayed for longer. If she stayed longer, what would she want from him? What did he want from her, other than to see her not hurting?
“Can I take you out to eat?” He blurted it as she was turning away to take her street. Appalling lack of finesse. She turned back, but they were separated by several feet and a stream of pedestrians, so she might not have heard him properly. He had to st
art again when he caught up to her. “We’ve only ever spent time together inside the condo. We should grab a meal out.” That just made her look perplexed. “Not tonight. When you feel up to it.”
She put her hand to his arm. “I should’ve realized—you must be tired of cooking for me.”
“No, that’s not it.” What the fuck was he trying to say? His face got hot. He’d slept in her bed the last two nights with her warm and welcome in his arms, but he couldn’t find the words to ask her out for a simple meal. “I thought we could, you know, go out. Of course, not now. Not when you—”
She smiled and all the pressure he felt dissipated. “That would be great.”
“Right.” What the fuck was wrong with him? “Take it easy today.”
Whatever that awkwardness was that’d struck him on the street wasn’t there when he got home. He had time to change before Flick came in and was standing at the counter checking his email. “How was your day?” He put the phone down to look at her.
She reached for her neck, for the scarf she’d forgotten to put on this morning. “A normal routine is useful. I didn’t have time to think about Drew.” Her face crumpled when she said his name and then she blew out a frustrated breath as her eyes got wet. “How did I manage to get through a whole day of people asking me if I was okay and you do it and I’m ready to break down?”
“That’s—” He didn’t know what it was. He’d gotten ridiculously tongue-tied on the street this morning and she’d reserved her fragility for him. “Sorry.” They were familiar now. Comfortable. It was hard to understand the nervous effect they had on each other.
“I’ll sleep by myself tonight, but I need a hug now.”
He opened his arms and she crossed to him and tumbled into them. They both made sounds of contentment. He folded her close, put his chin to the top of her head. He’d miss being in her bed tonight, but if it was a sign she felt stronger, he couldn’t be unhappy about that.
She went to bed early, after they’d eaten, and he hit the gym late. Instead of sleeping well in his own bed, he tossed and turned and couldn’t settle. He dozed but woke when he heard the balcony door glide open. It was either Spider-Man or Flick.
He found her on the balcony with a glass of water, staring out at the river. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, Tom, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.” She turned to look at him, distress etched on her face. “I’m the worst roommate.”
“It might be the fact that it’s 2 a.m., but I find myself disagreeing with you.”
“I pressured you into letting me move in. I taunted you into having sex with me. I’m too untidy for you. I danced on your table. I cry, I mope, I require feeding constantly. I make you sleep in my bed totally platonically, and I wake you up in the middle of the night.”
“It might be the fact that it’s 2 a.m., but I find myself thinking all of that is perfectly acceptable.”
She shook her head and went to the railing. “I don’t know what to do.”
He joined her, folding his arms to lean on it and look out at the skyline. He had her in his peripheral vision.