Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(41)

“Being clean and on time for things is overrated. Like, who decided that was the marker of a person with their shit together? Because in case you haven’t noticed, I tidy up and do those things you just mentioned, but I’m a complete mess. Most of the time I’m hanging on by a thread, and that’s scary as hell. If you’re hopeless, I’m a fucking wreck.”

Hanging on by a thread is a frequent feeling for me. Knowing that Payne feels like that too sometimes, well, it sucks of course, because I don’t want him to feel that way, but it also helps to make me not feel so alone. “Maybe we’re all a bit hopeless, then.”

“Probably. Which is why when you go on this date tomorrow, you should be yourself.”

“A hopeless mess?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“I doubt that’s what most people are looking for in a guy.”

He shrugs, then chews on whatever he wants to say for a moment. “I think … I think you deserve that person. The one who’s looking for you.”

“Does he exist?”

“You won’t know unless you try to find him.”

“That’s true.” I chew on my thumbnail. Payne is that guy for me though. He’s the only one I want to be that guy, but Payne said I need to find the one who’s looking for me, and that just isn’t him. He’s a great friend; we’re close. He gives me so much of what I need already, but … I’ve probably missed out on a lot of good guys because of how hung up on him I am. “Maybe it’ll be Lee.”

Payne scoffs and then freezes, like it took him by surprise.

“You don’t like him?” I ask.

“I don’t know him.”

“Then what was that noise?”

“There was no noise.”

I lift my eyebrows because we both heard it, but instead of pushing, I let it go.

He sighs. “I hope your date goes well tomorrow.”

“Well, it has a lot to live up to.” I gesture toward the twinkle lights above us. It’s quiet and intimate, and maybe not anyone’s idea of a perfect date, but I couldn’t love this more. Being at home, somewhere I’m comfortable, with good food and a cozy setup and Payne lying across from me … it’s perfect.

“This was nothing.”

“To you, maybe.”

His smile is hesitant. “You really liked it?”

“I love it. And our date’s still going, right?”

“I’m in no hurry.”

“Me neither.”

We’re up most of the night, and while it might be a practice date, I know there’s no way any date could ever turn out as good as tonight’s has. There are no awkward lulls in conversation, no nervous rambling. Payne encourages my ideas and asks me questions; we talk about the things he missed in Kilborough while he was in Boston, as well as the things he loved while he was there.

It’s close to one in the morning when we crawl out of the tent and walk, side by side, back to our bedrooms.

“Thank you for tonight,” I say.

“Yeah, it was actually fun.”

“You doubted you’d have fun with me?”

“Well, you and everyone else have been telling me you flunk dates, so I thought maybe some kind of pressure was getting to you.”

“The pressure does get to me.”

“You were fine tonight.”

“Yeah, but—” I meet his gaze. “—that was you. That was easy.”

Something shifts in Payne’s expression, but he doesn’t look away. Neither do I. We just stand there staring at each other, and I really hope he’s not reading all the feelings on my face because I’m terrible at trying to hide them.

One side of his lips hitches up, and then he leans forward and brushes a kiss over my cheek, pausing when he reaches the corner of my mouth.

My lips tingle. My stomach flips. My fingers are itching to grab him, hold him, tug him closer against me until his mouth is right where I want it.

His breath fans over my skin, which reminds me that I’m not breathing at all.

Payne’s slow to pull back, and my brain is full of stop, wait, kiss me again, make it mean something this time, but I force myself to smile.

“I knew I’d get a good-night kiss out of you.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sometimes I think you could get anything out of me.”

“Anything?”

His teeth rake over his bottom lip. “Night, Bo-Bo.”

I’m smiling, heart happier than it probably should be. “Night.”





17





Payne


I message Art halfway through the workday to beg him to meet me at Killer Brew after work. Beau’s date is tonight, and I’m uncontrollably aware of the dread sitting heavy in my gut.

This week has been great. Eating dinner one-handed while Beau colors in my arms, talking about absolute shit, and then our date last night, which felt more like a real date than any other I’ve had.

I’m a moody shit at work all day because I selfishly don’t want him to go. We have fun together, and I know if Beau starts dating, the dynamic between us will change. Where everything has been a clusterfuck since that video two months ago, being with Beau is easy. Simple. And it’s mine.