Big Roomie, Penny Wylder [readict books .TXT] 📗

“Oh.” I’d been so focused on my thoughts of Kain I hadn’t even heard it. When I check it, I see a text from my mom.

“My luggage arrived at my mom’s house today. What the hell?”

“Last time we take that airline,” Lillian says.

At least I bought enough clothes to last me a while. I was able to find some affordable jeans and sweatshirts. If we go anywhere nice, the dress I’m wearing will do just fine. If I could, I would never take it off.

We sit down for an early dinner at an Italian restaurant and decide to eat out on the patio since the weather is fairly decent. It drizzled most of the day, so the break in the rain feels like a relief. Deb and Lillian don’t like how chilly it gets here, but I love it. There’s something so romantic about the rain, watching couples huddle together under their umbrellas, the smell of wood smoke in the air.

“Damn, that guy is hot,” Lillian says as a man walks by wearing a rugby jersey stretched out across his muscular arms and chest. She says that about most guys who walk by.

“You like anyone with a British accent,” Deb teases her. “I thought for sure you were going to leave the club with that guy you were hanging on all night.”

“I would never bring a guy back to the flat and make the two of you listen to me bang him.” She puts her nose in the air and gets this snooty look on her face. “I have class.”

I have to look away before they see the embarrassed expression on my face. It’s a good thing they were piss drunk that night or they would’ve heard me and Kain.

“And besides,” Lillian continues, “I don’t just like guys with accents.”

“That’s right. I forgot you’re crushing on Kain.”

I almost choke on the ravioli appetizer I just shoved in my mouth. I have to wash it down with my glass of red wine which I chug as if it were beer.

“You like Kain?” I ask. My stomach sinks and my appetite vanishes completely.

Lillian puts her fingers together in a pinching motion. “Maybe just a little.” Then her fingers get further apart. She giggles and I feel awful.

Now would be the time to tell them what happened between me and Kain the night we went to the club. But I don’t know how to talk about something like that. Like, ‘Hey Lil, sorry to burst your bubble, but I had him first.’

I really, really don’t want to have that conversation right now. I already feel weird about it. I gave my virginity to a stranger, and now I’m falling for said stranger. It sounds crazy, and I absolutely don’t want my friends confirming that for me at the moment. I’m having a hard enough time with my own doubts muddying up my head.

“Kain is seriously the hottest guy I’ve seen so far,” Lillian goes on. “He came out of the shower this morning, and Oh. My. God. But it would be a bad idea if we hooked up. It’s not like it would turn into anything. He’s staying the whole month and we’ll only be here for a couple weeks. Actually, maybe that would be perfect, a little fling for my vacation? How fun would that be?”

“We should stop talking about this in front of Channa,” Deb says. “She’s a virgin and probably doesn’t want to talk about your sex life.”

I laugh nervously. I had my chance to tell them and now I’ve missed it. Our entrées arrive and my friends move the conversation onto something else. I feel like such a liar. The pit in my stomach grows and leaves no room for my meal. I just want to go back to the flat and bury myself in a book, distracting myself from the whole thing.

But Lillian’s words stick with me. We will only be here for two weeks. When we leave, Kain will still be here and that will be the end of that. Why get involved when it will end so quickly?

I sigh and pick at my food while trying to appear like nothing is wrong. Except everything feels like it’s falling apart before my eyes.

8

Kain

The clouds are thick overhead, a storm brewing over the sea. It looks angry, like it could come down on our heads at any moment. I’m finishing up on the docks for the day after loading large cargo containers onto a freight ship heading for the States. My entire body aches, but it feels good to be done with a job early enough to be able to enjoy at least a few hours of the day before going straight to bed. That’s usually how these jobs go: long days, short nights for weeks on end. It’s hard on the body but good for the pocketbook. I can work all summer long and make enough money to take the winter off and still enough money left over to take care of Johnathan and put into my home.

Two years ago I’d bought a house in a little village a few hundred miles from where I’m staying now. At one point the house had been a church. It looks like a traditional church with turret, stained glass, and steeple, and has a long, rich history. I got a good deal for it and plan to renovate it with a few modern amenities to make it comfortable for living. A little elbow grease and I can turn it into a beautiful home. There’s enough property to have a farm as well. I want to build a small cottage on one end of the property nearest to the village for Johnathan to live on. He could maintain his independence while being close enough for me to look after him.

I never thought of myself as the marrying type, and never thought I’d meet someone like Channa, but now that I have, I can see