Chapter 5 Lucy
FIVE
Lucy
The door slams, and I know Miles is heading out on his morning run again.
The dedication of that man to his running regimen is either awe-inspiring or guilt-inducing.
He hardly misses a morning. Now, for me, I prefer my evening walks.
Much nicer. Enjoyable even. And I don’t have to worry about things like injured knees.
I saw the way he was limping around when I fed him the breakfast sandwiches yesterday. Hopefully, it wasn’t anything too serious since he’s out running again this morning.
I finish drying my hair with a towel, then wrap it around myself to go to the kitchen to make some coffee.
I grab my phone and text my friend Krystal.
Me: Are you still okay with this?
Krystal: Of course! You know I love Alexander. I’m just still mad at you for moving.
Me: Thank you for this. I’m hoping to figure something out soon. I miss both of you!
Krystal: When I get a school break, I’ll bring Alexander to visit you.
She texts me a picture of the cutest boy there ever was. A giant head overtakes the picture as my English mastiff smiles at the camera.
Me: That sounds great. I’ll Venmo you some money for dog food. That guy eats more than a horse.
Krystal is my closest friend in Colorado, and she has been an absolute angel, taking care of my dog, Alexander, until I can figure out how to get him here and where I can keep him.
I lived with her when I was finishing up school, and she told me it was only natural to leave Alexander there with her until I could find a place that allowed dogs.
But I need to get my life figured out first. I knew he wouldn’t fit in the apartment with Willa and me—literally. He’s the sweetest English mastiff and weighs more than I do.
I’ve yet to mention the dog to Miles. I set my phone down, adjust the towel wrapped around me, and reach for the light roast coffee beans I bought this week.
As I rip open the package, an awful sound greets my ears. Thumping. Then a singsong beeping sound.
Miles is coming back into the house.
And I’m wearing only a towel.
There’s no time to run down the hallway and back to the safety of the room, so I drop to the ground, hiding behind the island as the door swings open.
I hold my breath as I hear him take off his shoes, muttering quietly to himself.
By the sound of his footsteps, he disappears down the hall, and I wonder if I should risk making a run for my room.
Just as I start to stand up, I hear him walking back toward the kitchen. I crouch down as he stops on the other side of the island.
I can hear rustling, as if he’s setting something down or messing with something on the counter. There is a clink and the audible sound of swallowing. He’s drinking from his water bottle.
I close my eyes, as if that will make him go away. I’m wearing nothing but a towel. I’m at an unfair advantage right here.
The fluffy towel I thought was so comfortable is not my favorite thing anymore. It’s definitely not as big as I imagined when I wrapped myself in it and left the bathroom. Right now, it feels like it’s about the size of a small hand towel.
Miles walks to the front door, and I can hear more shuffling, then the door opening. There’s a pause in movement.
“You know, the couch would be a lot more comfortable than the kitchen floor!” Miles calls out with a wicked laugh as he leaves the house again.
How did he see me? I glance at the fridge that’s directly across from me. The stainless steel is so shiny that it might as well be a mirror.
He must have seen the complete reflection of me crouched on the ground while he was standing on the other side of the island.
That’s it. I’m going to have to color my hair, get a fake passport, and flee the country.
Because I don’t know how I will recover from my roommate seeing me wearing nothing but a towel.
When I get home from work that night, Miles is already there and in the kitchen, puttering around. I’d sincerely hoped I would never have to look him in the eye again.
Not after our awkward interaction this morning.
“Oh, hey! You’re wearing clothes!” he says by way of greeting.
My jaw drops open. “You’re going to mention that unfortunate incident?”
Miles grabs an orange out of the fridge, peeling it as he gives a cheeky grin.
I wonder if my cheeks are bright red as I walk into the kitchen and set about making a pot of coffee. I like to live life on the edge sometimes and have caffeine in the evening to calm down.
“I’m going to attach a warning bell to you,” I mutter as I find the coffee beans. I grind enough for the coffeepot and fill it.
Miles tosses his peels in the garbage and walks back to the fridge. “I forgot my phone and had to come back for it. I didn’t even realize you were inside until I stopped at the counter to get a drink.”
“You were so fast coming in the house, and I panicked,” I explain.
I try to fight the laugh bubbling up, but I can’t. If I put myself in Miles’s shoes…it would be hilarious.
To be minding my own business, only to see my roommate sitting on the kitchen floor, barely wrapped in a towel?
My hands shake as I pour the water into the coffee. I snort as I try to fight a laugh. But it’s too much. I have to set the coffeepot down and plant my hands on the counter, my shoulders shaking.
“Oh, uh…” I hear Miles behind me. Then there’s a stiff hand on my back. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Everyone runs around the house…naked.”
The comforting pat bursts the floodgates. I turn to him so he can see the laughter on my face as the first audible sounds burst out of me. His hand falls to his side.
“I just—” I gasp. “I just imagined being thirsty, and then seeing someone sprawled out on the floor, and then having to pretend like I didn’t see them.” I press a hand against my stomach as I laugh harder.
Miles starts chuckling with me. “I didn’t want to make you feel weird, but then I felt like I’d be a creep if I didn’t tell you I knew you were there,” he admits with a laugh.
“Fair point. It probably would have been more awkward that way,” I say as I straighten and open the cupboard to grab a mug. I glance at Miles and grin slyly as I reach for the Stud Muffin mug.
Miles’s eyebrows shoot up, and he tries to get the mug before I can.
He’s just a little too slow, his hand brushing against my arm as I set down the mug in front of me.
“Oh, did you want this one?” I ask in an innocent voice.
His eyes narrow on me, and I do my best to keep my features relaxed.
“I could let you have this one if you want,” I suggest as I carry the mug to the fridge and pour some creamer in the bottom of the cup.
Miles shakes his head and smirks. “No, you go ahead. I’ll use one of these other mugs that works perfectly fine.” He pulls out a mug that says Best Brother Award: Second Place and sets it down with a clink.
“Want some of this?” I ask as I pass him some of the salted caramel coffee creamer. It’s my new favorite that I found at the local grocery store.
“Thanks,” he says as he pours as much as me into his cup. Good man.
“Do you suppose we’re enabling bad habits with each other?” he asks as he pours coffee into his mug.
I scowl as I hold out my mug and he fills it up for me. “What do you mean?”
He tilts his head toward the clock on the stove. “It’s seven in the evening. Reasonable people wouldn’t be drinking caffeine at this time.”
“I definitely didn’t put reasonable on my roommate application, so…” I drag out the last word like it’s really his fault.
“I have a staff meeting at eight a.m. tomorrow,” he tells me as he takes a long sip.
“I have to drive to a horse breeder’s place in the morning. I have to leave at six.”
“We should go to bed,” Miles muses before taking another long sip.
“At seven pm? You must have had a long day at work…”
“It was ridiculously boring,” he admits. “And I’m tired even though I sat at a desk all day. I should probably go to bed early tonight.”
“You should. For sure.” Siiiiip. “Or we could go bowling.”
Miles perks up with interest. “Bowling?”
“I’m pretty much a professional, and people who play against me run in fear.”
Miles smirks. “It sounds exciting. I’m in.”
“Great! Let me go put on some different pants.”
“Oh, so you’re wearing clothes tonight?”
I grab the kitchen towel and toss it at him as I walk out of the kitchen.