Chapter 4
Levi surveyed the myriad nuts, bolts, and screws, the various Allen wrenches and other parts and pieces that lay scattered across Haddie’s bedroom floor after they’d finished putting her bed together.
“This can’t be right,” he mumbled, more to himself than as a conversation starter.
Haddie leaned back against the estate-sale dresser she, Emma, and Matteo had snagged on their day-long furniture quest. “But we followed the directions, didn’t we?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied with a groan. “My Swedish is a little rusty. I was just going by the diagram.”
Haddie winced. “And I was just going by you going by the diagram.” Then she paused for a beat. “Is the bed going to collapse in the middle of the night, fall through the floor, and send me plummeting into Crawford’s Hardware store and to my imminent demise?”
Levi rolled his eyes. “No one’s plummeting to their demise.”
“Says the man who can’t read Swedish. It might say right there on that paper”—she pointed to the one page of directions like it was sitting on a witness stand, perjuring itself in a court of law—“that if parts remain after assembly is complete, those parts indicate a clear sign that the sleeper will meet her demise in the middle of her slumber.”
Levi shrugged. “And it might say ‘I don’t like pancakes.’ But I guess we’ll never know.”
Haddie’s mouth fell open. “That was just a random example, right? You don’t really not like pancakes.”
He blinked. “I don’t…what?” He couldn’t keep up.
She was making him dizzy. But the good news was that since they’d embarked upon the Swedish furniture project, they’d been so zeroed in on the work that Haddie hadn’t once asked him about the Ted Lasso debacle since she’d caught him red-handed earlier that day.
“That pancake thing. With the directions,” she reminded him.
“You were just using that as an example of what the directions might say because they could say anything. But you, Levi Rourke, do not have it in for pancakes… Do you? And before you answer, you should know that Emma’s cat who loves me dearly—and the affection is mutual—is named Pancake. ”
Levi opened his mouth to respond, then closed it and paused for a beat. “Can I not like pancakes without it also implying that I don’t like a cat I’ve never met?”
Haddie crossed her arms. “How can you not like pancakes? Or Pancake? What did a delicious breakfast treat or a sweet little tabby ever do to you?”
He held up his hands. “Nothing!” he replied with a laugh.
“I have nothing against Emma’s cat, and as for your delicious breakfast treat?
” He shrugged. “It doesn’t do anything for me.
” He laughed again, something about this ridiculous conversation lifting a weight off his chest. They could do this, the whole being roommates thing.
They could build furniture together, and she could tease him and make him laugh.
“There’s a why,” she replied.
“A why?” he countered.
“A why,” Haddie repeated. “And I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
He scoffed. “Can’t a guy simply not like pancakes?”
“No.” she answered.
“No?”
“No.”
Levi looked at his watch. “It’s late.” And he had his first preseason practice in the morning, which meant he had more studying to do that night. “You want to test it out and make sure you’re not going to plunge to imminent death?”
Haddie sighed. “Fine. But I’m not done figuring you out.”
Levi climbed to his feet and then held a hand out for his roommate.
When she took it, he ignored the pulse of electricity that passed from her hand to his.
It was nothing more than muscle memory following two strangers meeting in a hotel bar.
Nothing more. Because they weren’t really strangers anymore, and the hotel bar?
If they both wanted to succeed in the new positions they hadn’t officially started yet, it might as well have never existed.
“Thanks…roomie,” she said, a little breathless as he pulled her up from the floor. Then she cleared her throat. “There’s a story behind the pancakes,” she added. “Isn’t there?”
He dipped his head toward hers, their hands still clasped. “There’s a story behind the Toblerone, isn’t there?” he tossed back at her.
Haddie yanked her hand away and gave it a shake.
“You’re right,” she replied, and for a second Levi thought she was about to confide in him until she added, “I should test it out.” And then she flopped back onto her new mattress and frame that Levi hoped wasn’t missing any crucial parts.
When she didn’t crash through the floor, he let out a breath until she popped back up and cried, “Wait!” She grabbed him by the wrist and gave him a swift yank, catching him off guard and causing him to stumble over his own two feet and fall over a newly sprawled Haddie, his hands braced on either side of her head as his body hovered over hers.
She stared at him, wide eyed, as the two of them froze, no one moving a muscle or so much as exhaling a breath.
Was she waiting to see if the extra weight proved her theory about imminent death?
Or was she—like him—instead anticipating a much slower and more agonizing way to perish?
Because Levi was pretty sure the sweet, citrusy scent of her shampoo or perfume or whatever it was that made Haddie smell like something he thought he knew but couldn’t put his finger on was going to be the end of him.
She smelled like…like the first day of summer vacation had always made him feel.
“We’re not plunging,” Haddie finally croaked. “I…um…think we’ve proven the efficacy of our furniture-building skills.”
“You’re right,” he ground out, his voice rough. Then he held his breath, a momentary reprieve from the intoxication of her scent, and climbed off the bed and back to his feet.
Haddie pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Sorry about that,” she said, her cheeks flushed.
“Maybe next time I want you to jump in bed with me, I’ll give a verbal cue instead of yanking you into the sack without warning.
” She let out a nervous laugh. Was she making jokes for the hell of it?
Or was she fighting the same distracting thoughts he was fighting?
Not that the answer mattered. Levi’s professional reputation was riding on how this year played out. He couldn’t afford any missteps.
“As I was saying,” he began, deciding not to entertain any thoughts about what she might be thinking.
His thoughts were his, and her thoughts were hers, and he needed to simply walk out of her bedroom door and clear his damned head.
“It’s late. I should get to bed. And by bed, I mean the air mattress in the middle of the floor in my room. ” He laughed.
Haddie did too, any tension that had been building between them finally on its way out. “Yeah. Me too. Thanks for your help tonight, Levi.”
“Of course,” he told her. “That’s what roommates do, right?”
He kept rolling the word around on his tongue as he said good night and headed toward their shared bathroom to brush his teeth before collapsing onto his makeshift bed.
Roommates. Roommates. Levi hadn’t had one since he was an undergrad and didn’t suspect he would until he found the right person and settled down.
Except Levi wasn’t the settling type. He preferred to be on the move…
on the go…never truly setting down roots.
Because the only roots he had were here in Summertown, but so were his memories of grief and loss, which was why this… situation would only be temporary.
He was finally uncomfortably propped on his air mattress, laptop open to his next episode of Ted Lasso, when his phone lit up and vibrated with a text.
Birthday Girl: Asleep?
Levi found himself smiling before he even picked up his phone.
Levi: Nope
Birthday Girl: Do you think we should establish some ground rules?
Levi’s brows furrowed.
Levi: For…
Birthday Girl: For being roommates
Levi: Is this something you do with all your roommates?
Birthday Girl: Never had one. Had a single my first year and then was an RA after that. New territory for me.
Levi: So… I’m your first?
He laughed and swore he could sense her roll her eyes and sigh. And then he watched the three dots appear and disappear several times before her next text came through.
Birthday Girl: There has to be a bathroom cleaning rotation.
A bathroom using rotation. And there’s the issue of the toilet seat.
Vacuuming. Taking the garbage out. And then there’s groceries.
Meals. Do we eat together? Separately? Worry about ourselves and only ourselves?
Are we friends now? Can we strike last night from the record and start from scratch?
First of all…whoa. That was a lot to take in.
And second, there it was. That last sentence.
The question he knew she really wanted to ask and the one that had been on his mind since the second they agreed to live together.
Levi would never forget that night, but he could pretend. He had to, didn’t he?
Levi: And you want to discuss this now? At 11:30 p.m.?
Birthday Girl: It’s gonna keep me up if we don’t. And since we’re both still up…
Levi: What if I was busy?
Birthday Girl: Shit! Sorry! Forget I texted. We can talk tomorrow.
His pulse quickened as he fat-thumbed his response and sent it quicker than he could think.
Levi: wiat no not buay!
Three dots appeared and disappeared again. He waited for an interminable minute, finally exhaling when her text came through.
Birthday Girl: You’re a terrible speller
Levi: Or just in a hurry to make sure you didn’t go
Shit. What was he doing?
Levi: We’re friends, Haddie
Birthday Girl: Ok
Birthday Girl: Just friends
Levi: Just friends
He typed the words quickly but making sure he spelled them correctly. And when he pressed Send, he felt something sink in his gut. Of all the hotel bars in all the world during all the weddings she could have semi-crashed, why did it have to be Tommy’s?