The House Mate (Roommates, #3)

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” I said as I looked over everything. “This is all new to me, and to be honest, it scared the shit out of me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She rounded the couch to join me. “I should probably apologize too, actually. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m pretty embarrassed about the way I behaved yesterday. I shouldn’t have told you all that stuff about me and Greg. I’m imagining that was why you decided to work late, and why I felt so compelled to get out of the house and all. Then I was too embarrassed to call you. It was just the start of a weird vibe, and I shouldn’t have said any of it.”

I waved her off. “The only thing you have to be sorry about is that you wasted your time with that jackass to begin with. I stand by what I said. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Instantly, I regretted the nicety. It was like all the air had been sucked from the room, and all that remained was the reminder of what I’d said to her last night, and the mutual understanding that I could never prove what I’d said.

She glanced away, a chocolate-brown lock falling in front of her face. I itched to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, to pull her face closer until she was only inches from me, and then . . . But that was a slippery slope, and I was already skating a little too close to the edge.

“Did you have a good day at least?” I asked, and she looked back at me, thoughtful for a moment.

“Yes, mostly. It was a little odd, though.”

“Crazy at the mall?”

She shook her head. “No, not that.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

She blew out a sigh and shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly what I did wrong. I definitely would’ve texted, but Tiffany told me you were going to be home really late when she stopped by this afternoon, so I didn’t even think you’d be aware we were gone, never mind worried about Dylan. And Tiffany knew that I was going to take the baby to the mall because she offered me your credit card to use, so I’d assumed you’d authorized that.”

“Tiffany was here?” I asked. Why the hell hadn’t she mentioned that? I thought back to the conversation. Why did she act like she had no clue where they might be? Unless Tiffany had just assumed that their outing would be a daytime one, and so she was truly at a loss about where they’d be tonight.

“Yeah.” Addison nodded. Her lips quirked a little. “It was a little odd. She gave off a certain kind of vibe.”

“What kind of vibe?” I asked.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

Addison blushed to the roots of her hair. “I don’t want to throw anyone under the bus.”

“This is important, Addison.”

“Fine.” She let out a sigh. “She sort of admitted that she knew you . . . very well. I got the impression that you and she were a bit of an item.”

“Ah.” My mouth went dry and I thought about pulling my phone from my pocket and dialing Tiffany right on the spot. But all I said was, “We’re not.”

“I see.” Addison glanced away again, apparently intent on something in the corner of the room.

“We were . . . sort of. At one time. We had a close call once, but I stopped things before they went too far. If she still has feelings for me, they certainly aren’t reciprocated, and I’ll talk to her about this.”

“Oh, please, I don’t want to cause any trouble.” Addison held up her hands in front of her like she was trying to catch a soccer ball. “I just didn’t want you to think that I would be careless with Dylan’s safety like that. I’ll text you directly next time.”

I frowned. “I know better than to think you would be careless with anything. I jumped to conclusions out of fear.”

Again, the pounding silence filled my ears and my breath caught as I waited for Addison to say something else, to take the stillness and anticipation from the air.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” she said softly.

“I mean it. You’re a great nanny. Not a second has gone by when I regretted my choice in hiring you.”

Except, of course, all the times I wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter and make you scream my name.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one thinking of the exception either, because Addison asked, “Even with what you said the other night? About . . .” She cleared her throat. “If you hadn’t hired me? Did you mean that?”

“Of course I meant it. You’re smart and beautiful and nurturing. You’re . . .” I caught myself and stopped, noticing the glow in her eyes and the sudden tightening in my pants. Shit. “I meant it,” I finished.

“That means a lot to me too.” She swallowed. “Really. Not that it matters.”

“Why not?” I asked, struck by the rosiness of her cheeks. I wanted to run my finger along the curve of her jaw, to touch her skin to see if it was as warm as it looked.

“Because you did hire me. Obviously,” she said, softer still.

“Obviously.” I nodded.

A long pause passed between us as electricity snapped and spun in the air. I was inches from her, and all I had to say was that we shouldn’t let that stop us-that I wanted her no matter what.

But then a wail sounded from upstairs, and Addison shot to her feet.

“Dylan. She probably needs changing.” She rushed toward the stairs.

“Let me take care of it,” I said, but she shook her head.

“No, no. You eat. I’ve got it. Promise,” she said and disappeared up the stairs.

I glanced at my food, still sitting on the coffee table. The moment of heavy, hot tension was gone.

And frankly? I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved.