The Roommate's Baby

She smiles right back, totally unsuspecting. "Yeah, come! It will be fun. Or at least, less boring with you there." Her eyes light up. "Oh, and... well. I'll tell you tonight. But I've got some interesting news." She winks, then practically dances away from my desk, and I laugh, my chest already feeling a little lighter.

Trust Lacy to always be available to distract me from myself—or at least, from any untoward feelings that I'm struggling with.

I'm already looking forward to the evening. See? Who needs Cannon to have a good time?

Halfway through bowling, despite my completely crappy score, I find myself grinning from ear-to-ear. Half our coworkers are drunk already, and the handful who joined me on the not-drinking train are enjoying watching the show as our friends' coordination gets worse with every additional G&T.

But Lacy still hasn't filled me in on whatever juicy gossip she promised to share tonight, even though she's already on her third refill.

"When are you gonna tell me?" I whine at her in between our turns.

"Soon," she promises, with a significant glance that I can't quite interpret.

Then Chris—Cannon's closest friend at work, I can't help but remember—appears at my elbow offering me the ball. "Your turn next, Rina."

I accept the bowling ball from him and shove to my feet, weighing the thing in my hand.

"Put some elbow into it this time," Chris calls.

I take aim, and, of course, just like last time, fire the ball straight into the gutter. "I think the problem might be too much elbow," I reply as I return from my failed round, dusting my skirt off. "Can we go play darts instead yet?"

He laughs. "I can see Cannon's influence on you already."

That freezes me in mid-step. I can practically feel every single one of my coworkers’ gazes turning on me, and I feel like a deer caught in headlights. Then I force myself to unfreeze, keep grinning, wipe the stupid shocked expression from my face. "Huh?"

Chris is frowning at me now, confused. "You know. Because he always makes us play darts whenever we're drinking."

Of course. He's where I learned to play darts in the first place. We spent the better part of the first two years of our friendship playing round after round at the bar near our law school. I spent the first year getting my ass kicked. Then the second year kicking his ass at least half the time we played. I have him to thank for my ability to shark any guy in a bar at darts.

"Right. Of course," I say aloud, laughing.

But Chris narrows his eyes as I drop into the seat beside him, not about to be brushed off lightly. "Why, what did you think I meant?"

"I just didn't hear you," I say over the sound of our other coworker Marcy whooping as she throws a strike.

Chris, seated between me and Lacy, exchanges a sideways glance with her before he zeroes back in on me. "You know, you and Cannon have been keeping the same hours lately. Working late every night. Going straight home when you don't..."

"What can I say?" I force a laugh, making my expression as careless as I can. "He's sometimes a good influence on my work ethic. When he isn't dragging me out to wingman for him by pretending to suck at darts."

Chris searches my gaze for another moment, then laughs too, and shrugs it off. "Never would have believed it of Cannon. I'll make sure to make fun of him for working so hard next time we hang out."

I snort. "You do that."

But on the far side of him, I notice Lacy studying me more closely than before, her gaze narrowed. Crap. Chris might be easy to throw off a scent, but Lacy? She's like a dog with a bone whenever she smells a secret. Especially around me. We've known each other long enough that she can read me like an open book.

"Be right back," I call to them both, and lever out of my chair to head for the bathrooms. Once safely inside, I whip out my phone and power it back on for the first time since that afternoon.

The first thing that appears on the screen is another text from Cannon: Never mind. Buffet supremely sub-par. Don't worry, you aren't missing out on anything.

Good to know, I text, then bite my lip and try to figure out how to word this next message. Out bowling with the guys from work. Chris was asking about us. Said he noticed we'd been staying late, going home together every night... I think he and Lacy might be getting suspicious.

I linger in the toilet until my phone dings with a reply.

What do you want to do? Up to you.

I bite my lower lip. But the answer is clear. We definitely can't tell anyone at work. It's too weird, especially since we both work there, and this will all be over soon anyway...

I agree, he answers, almost immediately. So fast that the fact that he didn't even need to think about it makes my stomach sink. What he wants is clear.

It's what we agreed to, I remind myself. I can't be hurt about it. I signed on for NSA. That's what we're doing.

Cool, I text back. I'll throw Lacy off the scent, you take care of Chris.

Agreed, he answers.

I finish up and shove my phone back into my pocket, popping out of the stall. And running straight into Lacy.

"Hey. You okay?" She studies my eyes in the mirror as she washes her hands. "Just, you were taking a while in here."

"Fine." I beam, in a probably over-compensating way.

Her brow furrows. "You sure? You were acting kind of weird out there when Chris asked about Cannon... Is everything okay between you two?"

"Golden!" I reply, my voice shooting up an octave. Damn it. "Anyway, enough about me," I continue. At least this will distract her. "What about this interesting news that you needed to share?"

"Oh. Well." She sighs and rolls her eyes at me in the mirror. "It's not exactly news, per se. But... Er..." She glances past me, her gaze darting at the ground under the stall doors. Making sure no one else is in here.

Ooh, this is going to be good. "What is it?" I'm practically bouncing on the balls of my feet, eager for a good distraction. Lacy always has the best gossip.

"The other night, a bunch of us went out to Michael's." The corner bar a few blocks from our office, where we often have office happy hours.

"And?" I lift a brow.

"Annnnd... I stayed pretty late. Until bar close, actually."

I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. "Okay?"

"And Chris stayed late too."

My eyes widen.

Lacy's cheeks flush red. She checks the door again, and despite the fact that she already knows we're alone in here, she lowers her voice still further. "And, we might have been, like, super drunk. I'm not even sure he remembers everything—I sure have some brown spots in my memory of the night." She bites her lip. "But... we made out."

My jaw drops. "Lacy!"

She clamps a hand over my lips. "Shh!" she hisses. "Listen, nobody can know, okay? I mean, it'd be weird, we're coworkers, we're supposed to keep things professional at the office..."

I know how that feels, I think, though of course, I can't tell her. "Do you think it was just a drunk make out though?" I raise my eyebrows. "I mean, that happens, sometimes..."

"I know, I know. I don't even know, he hasn't said anything since, so I figure, maybe just chalk it up to a crazy night and forget about it."

"But?" I prompt, because I can practically hear that word dangling in her tone. I know my friend well, too.

"But, I don't know. We've talked a little bit since, just like, about normal stuff, in passing in the kitchen and stuff, and... Ugh." She rolls her eyes and groans at herself. "I think maybe I like him. Kind of."

I clear my throat. I like Chris—he's a cool guy—but I do feel obligated to mention. "You know he's kind of a player."

"Oh God, do I ever know." She rolls her eyes again. "He's almost as bad as Cannon."

I try not to let that blow show on my face, even though it feels like a sucker punch to the gut. "Just saying. I'd be careful about it, if I were you," I say, my voice rising. I wish I could take my own advice here. But if nothing else, at least I can help stop La

cy from making my same mistake. Then again. From the way her face falls, I don’t want to completely destroy her hopes. Maybe I’m just projecting here. “Do you really like him, Lace?”