The Roommate Agreement

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to—no, wait. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk to her about how I’d kissed my best friend and how it’d tormented me ever since.

How we’d actively avoided each other like we hadn’t known each other for twenty years.

I’d told Sean, but he knew everything anyway. He knew about my feelings for Shelby, but Georgia knew nothing. I didn’t want to have to explain everything, because at this point, nothing could make me feel better.

I was pissed.

I was pissed that Shelby had brushed it off. I was pissed that I’d acted like a dick, that she’d pushed me, that I’d given in and kissed her when I should have walked away.

I was pissed that I wanted her so much.

And I was pissed that I was pissed about that.

It wasn’t a crime to want her the way I did. It wasn’t a crime to be unable to stop thinking about her, but it was inconvenient as fuck.

I’d been a moody bastard all day and a generally horrible person to be around. I’d spent most of it in the office clearing paperwork and sending membership renewal reminders just so I didn’t have to interact with anyone.

I stepped back from the bag and wiped my forehead with my glove. “Thanks, Georgia. I appreciate it.”

“You done now?” She stepped out around the bag.

I nodded, undoing the gloves and dropping them to the floor. I took the water she offered me with a muttered thank you and drank half of it in one gulp, then grabbed my towel from the bench at the side of the room.

“Are you all right?” She hesitantly joined me at the side of the busy room. “You haven’t seemed yourself today.”

“Just a bad day,” I reassured her. “Thanks for spotting me earlier.”

“It’s my job.” She smiled shyly.

I returned the smile, but it was tight.

“Jay, are you sure you’re okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Lifting my head, I shrugged and met her eyes. “I dunno. You ever kissed your best friend?”

Her mouth formed a little ‘O.’ “Oh, I, um—no. I mean, I don’t swing—neither does she.”

For the first time all day, I burst out laughing. “Your straight, male best friend.”

“Ohhh.” Her cheeks burned bright red. “Sorry. I just assumed—well, this is awkward.”

“Don’t worry about it.” My lips twitched.

“So you kissed your best friend who’s a girl?”

“Unless she changed sex overnight, yep.”

“I can see how that would be a problem.” She pulled her lip into her mouth and dragged her teeth over it.

I watched her do it and felt…nothing. Not even a twinge of attraction to the pretty girl who was sitting next to me. Absolute zilch.

I was in deep shit right now.

“I guess you’re moodier than a girl on her period because you haven’t spoken to each other since it happened?”

“You’re good.” I looked straight ahead at the people who were using the bags. “We live together, so it’s even worse.”

“Oh, snap.” She scratched her chin. “That’s definitely hard. Huh. What happened? Was it an accident? Like a drunken kiss? Or do you have feelings for her?”

“We weren’t drunk.” I decided not to complicate the story. “We had a bit of an issue, and I ended up kissing her. It was two-sided, for what it’s worth, and it’s because of my feelings for her that it happened.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Twenty years.”

“Wow. Okay. That’s a long time.”

Slowly, I nodded. “Makes it harder, you know? It would be easier to brush it under the rug to protect our friendship, but I don’t know if I can now.”

“Do you really like her like…real feelings? Something worth acting on?

“I think I’m scared to admit the truth to myself, honestly, but I think so, yeah. It hasn’t fucking gone away, I know that much.”

Georgia leaned against the wall and blew out a breath. “Can I give you some advice?”

I waved for her to go on. “I wouldn’t be talking to you if it was unwelcome.”

“Right. Jay?” She touched my arm so I would look at her. “I don’t know her, but if it were me and someone I really cared about had feelings for me, I’d want to know. Secrets can be more destructive than the truth. If she doesn’t feel the same as you, you can both move on, even if that means you moving out, but you’ll know. You’ll be able to put it behind you.”

“I guess I know that.”

“Does she have feelings for you?”

“Not a clue. She’s not exactly the easiest person to talk to about emotion. She’s an introvert—the only thing she can express with any kind of accuracy is sarcasm.” I snorted, dropping my eyes, only to sigh again. “And her frustration at my socks not being in the laundry basket.”

Georgia laughed. “Well, you’re the one who knows her, but even if she doesn’t tell you, you have to tell her. I mean, from my perspective—if you like her, you have to go and make sure she knows that, even if she shies away from you. I’m not the best with emotion either, and we can thank my ex for that, but I’d still want someone to march in and demand we talk like something out of a romance novel.”