Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men’s Club Book 1)

It’s close to midnight when there’s finally noise in the hall outside. I’ve been turning my decision not to call Beau over and over in my head, questioning whether I actually made the right choice.

I wanted to be his knight in shining armor, but I also know that Beau is going to keep getting himself into these situations unless he can learn to say no.

I’ve been expecting him for hours. Hoping he’ll balls up and tell Lee to go fuck himself, then come back here and get drunk with me.

But nothing.

Until now.

I jump up and have to hold back from running to the door. Beau’s probably going to be pissed at me, which is fine, because the alternative would be that their date turned around, and I don’t want that either.

I give them a second or two outside, not at all being creepy and listening to the muffled voices, and when there’s a pause, I cross from the kitchen to the front door and yank it open. Beau topples backward, and I barely manage to catch him in time.

“What the hell?” I might be tipsy, but apparently my reflexes are still spot-on.

I look from Beau in my arms to where Lee is standing, arms extended, and take in their wet lips.

Were they … kissing?

I almost crack a molar.

“Good night, was it?” I help Beau back to his feet and whirl on Lee. “I’ve got him from here. Thanks, buddy.” Then I close the door in his face.

When I turn back to Beau, for the first time since I’ve known him, his eyes flash with anger.

“Excuse me?” He shoves me aside and pulls open the door. “Sorry about that.”

Lee’s stare flicks to me over Beau’s shoulder. “It isn’t your fault your roommate has issues.”

Beau starts to say something when it cuts off as Lee leans in for a kiss.

My gut churns as I anticipate it happening, but Beau turns his head at the last moment, and Lee connects with his cheek.

And takes entirely too long to pull away.

“Done yet?” I growl.

Beau pulls away from Lee and smiles. “I’ll text you.”

And as Beau turns back to me, Lee shoots me a victorious look over his head. Fucker.

“K, bye.” I swing the door closed again, and this time, Beau doesn’t reopen it.

“What the hell was that?”

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

“Payne.”

“Bo-Bo.”

He plants his hands on his hips. “Don’t Bo-Bo me! You slammed the door in his face. That’s just rude.”

“And here I was waiting for gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” His voice pitches high. “What the hell for?”

“Well, clearly the date turned around. If I’d called with an emergency, you never would have had the opportunity to find out how Lee’s dinner tasted.”

Beau scowls, goes to reply, and then … stops. “You’re right. Thank you.”

That’s unexpected. “Ah … sure.”

“I’m glad you didn’t call.” Beau leads the way into the kitchen. “He was a perfect gentleman.”

“Good for him.”

“And he’s a great kisser.”

I huff. “What, like it’s hard?”

“Well …” He pins me with his gaze. “Some people are too sloppy.”

“That better not have been directed at me.”

“I didn’t mention you.” Beau blinks at me innocently. “Guilty conscience?”

“We both know I can kiss.”

“Right.” He pats my arm as he steps around me. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“The fuck …” I follow him down the hall to his room, where Beau strips off, unconcerned about me standing there watching him.

“I’m about to be naked any minute now …”

I narrow my eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“All …” Relaxed. Playful. Oh, fuck. “You guys hooked up, didn’t you?”

“Wow. Judgy much?”

“Did you?”

He whirls on me, shirt open, belt hanging loose, and stalks closer. “What’s it to you?”

“I … well …”

He cocks his head. “Careful, Payne. Someone sounds jealous.”

“And someone is avoiding answering the question.” Two can play at his game. I step forward, leaning into his space. “Afraid to tell me you sucked his cock?”

“Is it any of your business?” Beau presses forward, his chest against mine, and walks me backward until I’m in the hall. “Great talking with you, but if you don’t mind, I’m beat.”

He doesn’t make a move to step back though.

And neither do I.

We stand there, gazes locked, his body warmth seeping into my shirt and his bodywash filling my nose. He isn’t fidgeting. The calmness throws me. Hollows out my stomach as I think of the reason he might be so calm, the reason he’s meeting my eyes head-on. Lee. Lee’s hands on him. Lee’s mouth. His tongue.

My gaze drops. Beau’s lips are wet. Can he still taste him?

I want to find out.

If I lean down and kiss him, will he let me? Or has the crush run its course?

I inch closer. Lips tingling. Nose almost touching his.

Beau sucks in a breath that brushes my skin, and I want to ask him to do it again. To catch it with my mouth this time.

But I can’t.

No matter how foggy with alcohol I am, no matter how confused I might be, no matter how much I might hate Lee, I’m not a selfish person.

And kissing Beau right now, as hot as it would be, would be beyond selfish.

I can’t hurt him.

So instead of closing the few inches between our lips, I say, “I thought you were going to bed.”

His nose brushes mine. “Join me.”

“Beau …”

The tip of his tongue darts out and swipes my lip. “It’s okay. No feelings.”

And him saying that at all proves it’s bullshit.

“No.”

Beau jerks back, and the hurt that flashes across his face gets me right in the chest. He eyes me for a moment, then turns around, stalks into his room, and slams the door behind him.

If I’m hoping the next morning that everything will be forgotten about like it was last weekend, I’m very, very wrong. The moment I walk into the kitchen, Beau walks out of it without even a good-morning.

Well, fuck me. I knew I was going to screw this up at some point.

My head is too dusty to deal with this shit.

I make a coffee, then go and join him in the living room. “Can I sit?” I ask, nodding to the place next to him on the couch.

His feet bounce, so he definitely heard me, but his lack of answer doesn’t seem good.

I sit anyway, keeping more distance between us than I normally would. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” he asks like he can’t stop himself.

“For being a dick to your date.”

“Whose name is …”

I huff. “Lee. His name is Lee.”

Beau’s lips twitch, and fucking hell the relief that flows through me is intense. “Is that all you’re sorry for?”

“Okay, full disclosure …” I scoot closer. “I’m not actually sorry for that. I don’t like him, he’s not good enough for you, and if we relived last night, I’d probably do it again.”

“Then—”

“I’m sorry for the stuff that came after. Outside your room. Almost kissing you.”

His inhale is sharp and loud. “You … that was …”

I wait him out.

“I wasn’t sure what that was.”

I give him a sad smile. “That was me not being fair to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You made how you feel clear, and I’ll admit when I look at you, I …” Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it. “I think you’re gorgeous, and I think you’re amazing, but I don’t know where I’m at. It’s not fair of me to lead you on.”

“When did you lead me on?”

Is he not listening? “Last night.”

“No, you already told me where you were at. You don’t want a relationship—that’s fair after what you’ve been through. But you said you still want to hook up. Why can’t we do that?”

“Because it might hurt you.”

“And I can’t decide that?” He turns to me fully, drawing one leg up underneath him. “You’re the one who said last night that I need to be more assertive, so how’s this for assertiveness? I wanted you to kiss me. And then I would have dragged you inside my room, stripped you naked, swallowed your cock, and had you fuck me into the mattress. And this morning when I woke up, I would have felt incredible and had no regrets. You want to know how I woke up instead?”

I’m gaping at him, unable to answer after what just came out of his damn mouth.

“Instead, I woke up feeling like shit for pretending I liked when Lee kissed me and worried that I scared you off instead.”

There’s so much there to break down, but all I can focus on is “You … didn’t like it?”

“He backed me into the door and kissed me before I knew what was happening. Thank fuck you opened it.”

“Asshole,” I snarl. “So, why did you pretend you liked it, then?”

“To try and make you jealous, but after everything you’ve been through, I never should have done it. I feel terrible.”

I get what he’s saying, but even while trying to make me jealous, he was so … uncommitted to it. He just admitted that he was one hundred percent ready to take me to bed, and when I look at Beau, all I can see is a man so steadfast in his … whatever he thinks of me. And even with his terrible attempt at making me jealous, he feels bad.

Beau is a good guy. A seriously good, pure guy.

And it’s just occurring to me now exactly how far out of my league he is.

I laugh into my hands. “So you’re not going to see him again?”

“Nope. I already sent him a text thanking him for the date but making it clear I wasn’t after another one.”

“Well done.”

“No need to sound so smug.”

“Sorry, but …” I rub my chin. “I don’t know why everyone thought it would work.”

“To be fair, he didn’t sound douchey at all with his texts. And the things that annoyed me probably never would have come up with anyone else.”

“I knew he wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Seriously. A gold pin. On his blazer.”

“He only tipped ten percent too. After whining all night about poor service …” Beau trails off. “The date was horrible. He tried to give me a handie in the theatre.”

“Is he a teenager?” I ask, trying to hold back the jealousy that rears up at hearing that. “Did you let him?”

“Believe it or not, that one I could say no to.” Beau taps his fingers on his thigh. “Still, trying to convince him not here wasn’t code for let’s go to your car and make out wasn’t easy.” He meets my stare. “You’re right. I need to get better at telling people no.”

“You do.”

“Starting now.”

I groan. “You’re not supposed to use this new superpower on me.” But even though I joke, it feels sort of good to know that I’m one of the few people Beau is comfortable enough around to do it.

“I’m not going to let you tell me what’s good for me. I don’t care if it’s a rebound thing for you, but sex is on the table. You want it, you take it. We’re both single. We both like each other. I promise it won’t get messy, because I’ve had these feelings for a long time, and I’ve kept them in check.”

“But—”

“Nope. You’re not in charge of the way I feel. That’s up to me. And the way I feel is that I’d like to see your cock again. Many times. Maybe we even send a video to your ex of us going at it. And I wish I could say that was a joke, but I know how much it’d piss him off that I got to sleep with you when he knew about my crush the whole time.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “He did?”

“He did.” Beau grins cheekily. “And he hated it.”

“Like he had ground to stand on.”

“Right?”

We fall silent as I think about what Beau is offering. Hot sex, no expectations. But I can’t trust his assurance that he won’t get hurt. That’s not something he can control.

“I just don’t—”

Beau holds up his hand. “Don’t answer right now. You don’t actually need to give me an answer at all. Just know that if one day you decide you want to fuck me, I’m here.”

“Fucking hell …”

He shuffles closer, blue eyes bright. “Now that’s out of the way, can you teach me how to make those paper cranes?”

The question is so unexpected that I immediately agree. And that’s how we spend our Saturday. Last night forgotten, both of us ignoring our phones, and going through almost a whole pad of Post-it notes until the living room is covered with bright yellow paper birds.

It’s peaceful, and maybe this is what Art meant about taking my time. Instead of fighting the nerves that hit every time our eyes meet, I embrace them. I let myself have fun and get close to him. I could listen to him talk for days.

Beau finishes the crane he’s folding and sends it sailing my way. I snatch it carefully from the air and inspect his work, finding there, on the wing, a sneaky little love heart.

My gut gives a tiny flip, and a smile shoots across my face.

We both pretend not to notice.