Roomies

Chapter 7: The Birthday Suit Discussion

I wake in the morning. Not early, mind you, given that I was up most of the night. Still, the house seems quiet. Maybe too quiet. I dread what I'll find, but I'm in desperate need of coffee.

I sneak to the kitchen, hoping against all hope that Tom and Maddi are gone. As it turns out, they are gone and there's a note waiting for me on the counter.

Good morning, Sarah,

I've just popped out to the market to get a few things. Do you feel like waffles this morning? I do! I'll be back soon with the supplies we need for a glorious breakfast.

T-

Glorious breakfast? Sure, he can say that. He got laid last night, and I'm the one who got no sleep.

I open the refrigerator to remove the can of offending whipped cream. After all, I believe it is the culprit that started all of last night's shenanigans. It's not in the fridge. When I look in the trash, I find the can. At least someone took care of it before I had a chance. I shutter again at the scene I witnessed last night as I start to make my coffee. I look around at the countertops and decide to disinfect them before anything. I just finish as Tom comes waltzing through the front door, groceries in hand.

"There she is! Good morning!" he says, placing his bags on the freshly-cleaned counter. I don't respond, though he continues on as if I had while he unpacks the groceries.

"I hope you're hungry. I got a bit carried away and got staples to make waffles, eggs, bacon, and also fresh fruit. I hope you like mango. It looked sinfully delicious, and I just couldn't pass it up."

"Tom..."

He turn towards me and smiles, though it seems more out of nervousness than happiness. When he sees the look on my face, his smile falters a bit, but he continues rambling on.

"I also picked up a melon, though I'm not entirely sure it's ripe enough. I don't really know how to pick a ripe melon. I tapped it, and it sounded different than the others. Is that the proper method to use?"

I sigh. "What kind of melon is it?"

"A cantaloupe," he says, looking at me once again. His smile is mostly gone, and I can see he's searching my face for something.

"The smell," I say.

"Pardon?"

"The smell. You sniff the point on the cantaloupe where the vine was attached. If it smells like a ripe melon, it's ready."

"Really?"

"Really," I say, growing tired of this little game.

"Where's Maddi?" I ask. Tom falters a bit in his groceries task. "I took her home early this morning," Tom whispers, not looking at me. I sigh and walk back toward my bedroom.

"Sarah?" I turn and Tom is right behind me.

"I guess... I think we need to talk about last night," he says, looking away and rubbing his neck. I return to the kitchen and sit at the table.

"Coffee?" Tom asks, grabbing a mug. I know he's stalling.

"No."

Tom places the mug on the counter, looking away from me again.

"First, let me say that I am sorry...unreservedly so...at what took place here last night. It was unforgivable that I brought a woman here...to your home...and we did...those things. It was such a horrible lapse in judgment...and I'll move out by tomorrow." He rushes through the last part, and I almost miss it.

"Move out?"

"Yes. I think it's best," he says, not meeting my gaze.

"Why is it best?" Suddenly, I feel like Tom is adding insult to injury. It's like he's slapped me across the face when I'm already down and struggling to stand again.

"You'd...you'd have me stay? After the way I've behaved?" he asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Yes... But under two conditions..." I say, folding my arms across my chest. In reality, I'm just relieved that he seems to want to stay. I can't give in that easily, though.

Tom looks me squarely in the eyes. "Name them."

"First, no more overnight guests."

"Done," he agrees quickly.

"And...no more parading around in your birthday suit."

Tom blushes furiously at this and looks away.

"What if it really is my birthday?" he asks, trying to control an oncoming grin.

"Your birthday is what...six months from now? If you're back here on your birthday, you can run around in your birthday suit to your heart's content."

Tom smiles at me, the first genuine one I've seen in some time. Except for last night, and that doesn't count. Because it was dark...and he was naked.

"Deal," he says, stepping toward me. "Hug?" he asks, opening his arms wide. I stand and walk toward him, allowing myself to be enveloped in his arms. It feels so good...so natural... It's a shame that there can't be more between us.

Tom's POV

This hug. It feels so good. I don't want to let Sarah go.

I acted so foolishly. I can't believe Sarah has this capacity for forgiveness! I mean, if the tables were turned...if she brought a man...Mark, perhaps...into my home. Well, I think I would truly go mad.

I smile as she pulls away from our hug and walks to the coffee maker. I can't help it. She didn't end up in his bed, but rather her own last night. I may not have her, but he doesn't, either. Not yet, the evil, masochistic part of my brain says. Still, I won't let that thought dampen my mood.

I wish I could tell Sarah. Tell her how, after realizing she was home last night, I had snuck to the sofa to sleep. How I woke early, cleaned up the kitchen and disposed of the whipped cream. Never a prude in the bedroom, I still cringe at what I had done with it. I couldn't imagine taking it any further with Maddi, though she was in my bed, willing for anything I had in mind. Instead, I feigned illness and moved to the sofa to get away from her, then dressed quickly and roused her this morning to get her back to her place. I told her I had a nice time and looked forward to seeing her again, but I think she knew the reality of the situation. She and I are no more.

I wish I could also tell Sarah how I thought of her last night. How I wished I could go to her room, wrap myself around her and never let go. I thought of her, naked and pliable under me, whispering my name. Though I wanted to take matters in my own hand, no pun intended, with these thoughts of her, I couldn't. Not with another woman in my bed, and my intentions of earlier in the evening with that woman. After all, I may be a bit bonkers, but I'm not that fucked up.

Now, standing in her kitchen, looking at the back of the woman I love, I'm happy. Happy just to stare at her with what I'm sure is a stupid smile upon my face.

"What?" she asks, looking at me.

"Nothing. And everything," I say.

She looks at me like I might have a screw loose, and this makes me laugh.

"I think it's going to be a beautiful day, don't you?" I say, turning to take the waffle iron from its shelf.

"I guess," she says, smirking at me.

If I can't take her in my arms and tell her of my love for her, at least I have her friendship again. And that is enough...for now.