The Roommate's Baby

"This is your fault," Chris says, eyes narrowed.

"What is?" Rina and I exchange another sideways glance.

Then Lacy breaks into laughter and grabs Chris's hand. "This, dummies. Your stupid setup."

"Yep. All your fault. We're blaming you for us getting in way over our heads," he adds.

Lacy smirks and leans up to kiss his cheek. He grins at her, then pulls her into a long kiss, and Rina and I can't help but exchange relieved smiles. "All I wanted was a good fuck," Lacy protests when they break apart.

"Well, I guess you can't help when Cupid strikes," I say.

"Still. Just wanted to let you know how your evil plan worked out," Chris adds. Then his gaze darts between us, and I can practically see the calculations whirring in his head. "Your turn’s next. We have to return the favor."

"Definitely," Lacy adds, and when she meets my gaze, her eyelashes flutter almost imperceptibly. "I can think of a girl who I think would be perfect for you, Cannon, if only you'd be willing to actually take a leap and put yourself out there."

I grit my teeth, hearing the challenge in her words. "Well, that can be harder than you think, Lacy..."

"Don't I know it," Chris interrupts. "But hell, if I can do it, of all people, dude, you ought to be able to."

"Anyway, we just wanted to update you both." Lacy winks at Rina.

Rina grins. "Glad to be a thorn in your side as always. Anytime you need more bad advice or help getting in over your head, you know where to find me."

We slip out of the kitchen in order to give them some space, but halfway back toward our desks, Rina pauses, glances around us, and lowers her voice, pitching it so only I'll hear.

"Was that... kind of weird?" she asks, glancing over her shoulder toward the break room door. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm super glad they're going for it and that it's maybe working out, but... do you think they were suggesting that we're...?"

"I think they suspect," I admit with a sigh. "Chris has asked me more than a few prying questions lately."

Rina groans softly. "Lacy too. I just assumed it was her womanly intuition, but if even Chris has noticed..."

"This is getting harder to keep quiet," I say. Then I chomp on the inside of my cheek. Dammit, Cannon. But it's the truth. "People are asking questions. Wondering about it. Sooner or later, if we keep going, this is going to blow wide open."

Rina lifts her chin, her eyes suddenly going hard and defiant. "I can keep to my side of the bargain," she whispers, her voice low and rushed. "I can maintain this NSA thing. Don't you trust me?"

For a long, painful moment, I hold her gaze. Watch the hardness in her eyes, the defiant set of her jaw. "Of course I trust you, Rina," I whisper, and some of the hardness melts from her eyes. Settles into something softer, something more distant and almost wistful. "That's the problem," I continue, and she winces, her brows contracting. But I can't hold it in anymore, I can't contain it. If this is going to spill out anyway, then fuck it, we might as well have this conversation before someone like Lacy or Chris force it out of us at an inopportune moment.

"I don't understand," she murmurs.

"I trust you too much, Rina. I feel more than I should, I—"

Just then, a gaggle of our coworkers passes, chatting loudly. Spencer, my boss, is among them. He spots me and swings to a halt. "Cannon! Just the man I was looking for. Listen, thanks for finally sending over those reports," he says, and I don't miss the finally in his tone. "About the last one, the numbers look a little off for April. I was thinking we could sit down and go over that in a couple minutes."

"Of course," I reply. I plaster a smile onto my face, act normal until the crowd passes. Then I shoot Rina a sideways look. She's still planted beside me, waiting patiently.

But I can't do this to her here. I can't talk about this in the office, in the one place where she asked me to maintain this secret the most. We've waited this long. We can wait a few more hours. "Tonight," I say, my voice pitched lower than ever. "We need to talk. After work."

She nods. "I agree." But there's something about her tone when she says that, something about the finality of it, that sets me on edge.

Doesn't matter. I've made up my mind. I can't contain this anymore. Tonight, I'm finally going to tell her how I really feel.

15

Rina

Cannon is still in the office when I sneak out to head home. I want to beat him there, because I feel like I need time. Time to steel myself for what's about to happen.

I knew this would happen eventually. It was inevitable. We were getting so close over the last couple of weeks, and then the last few times we've had sex, now that I'm ovulating, it feels... different. More intense. Too intense. I told myself that I knew Cannon would want to break it off. He'd sense how I was feeling, know that I'd broken our NSA plan.

But knowing something intellectually is one thing. Hearing him say “we need to talk” in that tone, right after Chris and Lacy's ill-advised ambush, was quite another. It turned my insides into knots, and made me feel sick for the rest of the afternoon.

It's better this way, I tell my reflection in the mirror. I'll get over this eventually. Time heals all wounds. I just have to get through tonight, then it will all be okay.

The hard part, of course, is actually getting through the next few hours. I wipe my cheeks again, check my eyes. They're a little red around the edges, but not puffy. I managed not to cry, despite the hormones surging through my body, urging me to break down. I'm not going to do that, not yet. I'm going to stay strong through this conversation. And later tonight, after it's all said and done, after Cannon inevitably tells me we can't keep doing this anymore, then, and only then, will I let myself cry. Alone, locked in the bathroom, the way I should have the day I came home from the clinic in a panic.

If I'd done that, maybe none of this would have ever happened. Maybe Cannon would never have found out why I was upset, maybe I never would have cottoned onto this harebrained idea of asking him to help me. Maybe I'd still be living here blissfully unaware of how fucking perfect my roommate would be—in bed, on date nights, everywhere. Maybe I could have just gone on in ignorance of how compatible me and Cannon are for the rest of my life.

And yet.

Despite everything. Despite how I already sense tonight will end things... I don't regret any of it. I don't regret getting to know this hidden side of Cannon. I don't regret our time together, even if it has to come to an end. It was worth it to realize that I could feel this way about somebody. That I'm capable of more than just casual flings or hookups. I could actually see myself falling in love with somebody. With Cannon. Even if he doesn't reciprocate those feelings, I can't bring myself to wish I never discovered them.

The elevator dings, the up button illuminating. My nerves jangle right along with it, simultaneously making me feel nauseous with anticipation and thrilled with excitement at the prospect of seeing him. I guess my body hasn't quite gotten the memo that my brain has, about what tonight will mean for us. My stupid heart still thinks that things will go the same as always—that he'll sweep in here and kiss me, lift me off my feet and carry me into the bedroom to fuck me senseless.

I step into the living room just as the elevator doors open to reveal Cannon, in the same suit he wore to work today, now slightly rumpled around the collar from a long day of tugging at it in the way that he always does, yanking on the collar when he's distracted by some work problem he's thinking through in his head. I wonder what's been distracting him today.

Probably trying to figure out the most diplomatic way to break up with me.

Ha. Break up? He can't break up with me; we haven't even been dating. It hits me all over again how ridiculous this whole thing is, just as Cannon strides across the apartment toward me.

I don't know what I expected, but it's not this. It's not for him to grab me by both arms and pull me toward him. Our lips collide, and he's kissing me with an urgent hunger that I've never seen from him before. The

kiss takes my breath away, sends my stomach flying around my ears, as though I've just gone over the top of a particularly steep roller coaster. When we break apart, we're both breathless, eyes glazed.

"I'm sorry," Cannon starts in right away, and I brace myself for it. Here it comes. "Rina, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just... I've been thinking all day—for the last few days, weeks, really, and I..." He shakes his head, grimaces.

I want to embrace him, tell him it's all right. I've never seen him look this upset, this agitated. But I hold myself back, because I know that won't help right now. I know what he has to say.

"I just... I can't do this anymore," he breathes. He opens his mouth to say more, to carry on, but I lift a finger to his lips and stop him right there.

"It's okay, Cannon." My heart is breaking; it feels like my chest is going to explode, and my nerves are going to set me on fire from the inside out. But I owe him this much. This was my mistake, not his. "Cannon, I understand why you can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, I know it was too much to ask. The sex, the baby, and now I'm sure you've realized what happened, that I can't do this stupid NSA thing, because I started to feel for you, so I get it. We're done, don't worry."