Not Pretending Anymore(3)

“Why?”

“Why would it be weird to walk around with my ass cheeks on display in front of a man and not a woman?”

“Yes.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It just would. I guess because the women I’ve lived with aren’t attracted to other women, so it doesn’t feel sexual in any way.”

“Ah. Now we’re getting to the crux of your issue. So you’re afraid of some sexual tension going on between you and me? Is it because I’m so handsome?”

“What? No! And aren’t you full of yourself, assuming I think you’re handsome, and I’m worried I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Just keeping it real, Mollz. You’re only giving me five minutes, so I’m trying to get to the heart of the reason.”

“I guess I just don’t want to feel like I have to cover up to come out of my bedroom. When I dry my hair, I wear a towel or a bra and underwear—that type of thing.”

“Would you feel you had to cover up if I told you I was gay?”

That question gave me pause. Would I? I wasn’t sure. “Are you?”

“Fuck, no. I was just trying to pinpoint your issue. Is it the fact that I’m a man, or the fact that I might admire your ass if it were on display? Sounds like it’s the latter. So let me put your mind at ease: I won’t.”

I felt oddly offended. “What’s wrong with my ass?”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t looked. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with someone else.”

As insane as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy. “Oh. Well, why aren’t you moving in with her?”

“Because she doesn’t return the feelings…yet. So basically, if your concern about having a guy for a roommate is that he’s going to be checking you out, you have nothing to worry about with me. I’m a one-woman man. If you want, I can give you the numbers of some of my exes for references. I’m no cheater.”

Hmmm … “I don’t know…”

Declan looked down at the clock. Thirty-one seconds were left. “We’re running out of time, so we need to speed things up. How about if I just give you the facts you need to know?”

“That would be good.”

“I’m twenty-eight years old. I make six figures. My credit score is eight hundred and ten, and I have references from previous landlords. I’m neat and clean up after myself. I’m not home a lot, but when I am, I’m pretty quiet. I’m also damn good with a hammer.” He glanced around my apartment and pointed at a hole I’d accidentally made in the wall when I flung the closet door open too hard. “I can spackle that and put on a door stopper so it won’t happen again.” He pointed to the kitchen. “And those cabinets are pretty tall. I’m six foot one. No more having to stand on a chair to reach something on the top shelf. And—”

The timer on the stopwatch buzzed.

“Can I just say one last thing?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“I’ll share my Hulu and Netflix passwords. I have the premium Hulu account.”

I laughed. “Well, those are some pretty enticing qualities for a roommate.”

He smiled. “So I’m in?”

I sighed. “I’m sorry. While I appreciate your tenacity, unfortunately, you’re not. Though I interviewed fourteen other people today, and I have to say, you do seem like you’ll make some other lucky person a fantastic roomie.”

Declan frowned, but nodded. “I figured it was worth a shot. This is a great building, and I work right around the corner. It’s hard to find an apartment where it’s only a six-month commitment.”

“My lease is up then, and I haven’t decided if I’m going to extend or not.”

“See? That’s another reason I’d be perfect. I’m only in town for six more months.”

“I’m sorry. This is definitely a case of it’s me and not you .”

He picked up his wine and guzzled it down before standing and extending his hand. “I appreciate you giving me your time. And thanks for the pinot.”

We shook. “It was nice to meet you, Declan.”

After I walked him out, I shut the door and leaned back against it. What a shame; he really seemed like a nice guy and the best candidate I’d met by a mile. I was just about to go wallow in another glass of alcohol when there was a knock at my door. Checking the peephole before opening, I found Declan standing there.

“I forgot something important,” he said.

“Oh? What’s that?”

He took out his wallet and produced a photo of a nun. “This is my sister Catherine, and it’s not a costume from Halloween. She’s a legit nun. How bad can a person be if his sister is a nun?”

I laughed. “Is this the sister who dunked your head in the toilet?”

He grinned. “It is, actually.”

“Well, I’m not sure there’s a direct correlation between your sister deciding to dedicate her life to the church and you being a good person. Though, even if I take your word for it, it still doesn’t change my answer.”

Declan’s shoulders drooped. “Had to try. She tells me her being a nun won’t get me into heaven. Thought maybe it was good for something .”