3. Demi
As I sat on the couch watching some new romance movie on Netflix, I wasn’t thinking about Cannon.
Okay, fine, I was totally thinking about him.
It had been two days since I’d seen him for more than a quick hello in passing. It almost felt like he was avoiding me, but I didn’t have any reasons to support that theory. Why would he want to avoid me? If anyone needed to avoid someone, it was me. I was the one who had a stupid crush on him with all his handsomeness and kindness. It was probably brotherly kindness. Blech.
I had told West I thought of Cannon like a brother, but that was a complete lie. It was such a huge lie that I had been worried they had all seen it on my face and been seconds from calling my bluff, but they’d all seemed to believe me.
But what if Cannon hadn’t? What if Cannon knew I had a crush on him?
Oh, my gosh! What if that was why he was avoiding me like the plague?
I buried my head in my hands at the thought, embarrassment prickling my skin. I had tried not to stare at him too much or blush when he flashed his sigh-inducing smile, but I was only human. It would help if he were a jerk, but he’s not. He’s always been so kind to me. Never once treated me like an annoying younger sister.
Granted, over the years we hadn’t spent that much time together. It had only been in the last couple years that we’d had conversations without West present. And those conversations had been short.
Come to think of it, despite having known Cannon for ten years, I didn’t really know him that well.
And here I was crushing on him, mainly because of his looks. How shallow was I? Ugh. I was twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t put so much stock in looks.
Cannon was hard not to look at, though. I’d heard from more than one woman that he was Henry Cavill’s doppelg?nger, and I had to agree. The dark hair, the blue eyes, the chiseled body. I’d challenge any woman to be in the same room as a guy who looked like Henry and not have your heart rate spike and your skin feel feverish.
Cannon was hot. There was no denying I was attracted to him, shallow though I may have been.
Maybe my crush wasn’t a crush after all—it was just attraction. That’s all this was. I could deal with that. I wasn’t a horrible person for being attracted to someone. I could move past it. I could get used to living with a gorgeous man. I could focus on other things, like starting hair school and finding a job. And not on the sexy man who slept just a few feet away.
Plus, I wasn’t sure how West would feel about me obsessing over his best friend. Yes, Cannon was West’s best friend. And yes, he truly did think of him as his brother. But Cannon’s reputation with women wasn’t what some would call great. In all the time I’d known him, he’d never had a long-term girlfriend. Never brought a girl to our monthly family dinners. From what I’d been able to pick up on through conversations I’d overheard between the two of them or comments made by West, Cannon never dated the same girl more than two or three times.
Between focusing on my new path and knowing that my brother might not be thrilled about my not-so-sibling feelings toward Cannon, that should be plenty to keep me busy and away from my hot roommate.
Feeling confident in my new resolve, I lifted my head out of my hands and relaxed back into the couch.
The movie wasn’t interesting enough to pull me into the story. I kept getting distracted, wondering what time it was and why Cannon wasn’t home yet. No matter how many times I repeated to myself that I had no claim to know his whereabouts or his schedule, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Was he out with some girl? Probably. When you looked like him, you could have any girl you wanted.
If he wasn’t out with a girl, who else would he be hanging out with? I knew for a fact that West was already asleep upstairs in Halle’s room. And don’t ask me how I knew that. Their activity before sleeping was unfortunately not as quiet as I’m sure they intended. Those vents really must have been very poorly done. I remembered West telling me that before he and Halle had gotten together, they had been able to have full on conversations through the vents.
Now I got to experience the joy of those vents firsthand. I had to eventually run out of the room with my hands over my ears, yelling la-la-la-la before hurrying to put the TV on to cover up any possible noises making their way through the vents.
I picked up my phone and tapped on the screen, checking the time again.
It was just past eleven. On a Tuesday. Did he always stay out this late on weeknights? I knew he had to be to work early in the morning.
I hated how I couldn’t just focus on this dumb movie and not care about a certain roommate’s nightly extracurricular activities. And I hated that I was annoyed at the movie when it was fine, good actually, but it was really me who was dumb for not having the strength to keep my thoughts from drifting.
The sound of the door handle turning had me hurrying to look more relaxed and nonchalant on the couch, although I’m not sure how I could look more chill than sitting on the couch with a blanket watching a movie. My heart raced as if Cannon would find out what I’d been thinking and how I’d been waiting for him to get home.
The door shut, and I turned to look over at him, instantly wishing I hadn’t. Rumpled Cannon looked just as good as fresh and dressed-up Cannon. His hair was more disheveled than normal, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. Or maybe someone else had run their hands through his hair. A sharp twinge of jealousy hit my stomach, and I hurried to push it away.
“Oh, hey.” He looked surprised to see me. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Was that disappointment in his features? Had he been purposefully staying out late so he wouldn’t have to see me?
I worked to hide the hurt and hoped he couldn’t see any of my feelings in my expression. “Uh, yeah, I thought I would be too, but sound sure travels through those vents.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “Ah, right.”
“I came out here to distract myself from the certain nightly activities and then got caught up watching this movie.” If only that last part were true. All I’d wanted was for this movie to completely distract me.
He nodded, looking away from me. “That makes sense.”
An awkward silence stretched between us.
I wracked my brain to figure out what had changed, from when we had been talking in his room on Sunday while unpacking to where we were now. He had seemed fine with me moving in here two days ago. Now he was acting like it was something he had to endure.
“I’m going to go take a shower and head to bed.” He quickly walked toward the hallway that led to the bathroom.
“Cannon, wait,” I called out after him.
He stopped, slowly turning to face me.
“Is something wrong?” I searched his face for any information that might help me understand. “Did I do something?”
His features softened. “No, Demi. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel unwelcome. I’m just…tired.”
Just the sound of him saying my name made me want to melt.
I had a feeling it was more than him being tired, but he obviously didn’t want to share what else was going on.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
He walked out of the room and down the hall.
I wanted to turn off the movie and go to bed myself, but I was worried it would look like I really had been waiting for him to get home. I forced myself to finish the movie, listening to the running water of the shower, trying to not picture a naked Cannon.
I was not proud of my lack of success in that endeavor. Visualizing his bare chest as water ran down in streams across his skin, down the ridges of his abs (yes, I’d seen him shirtless and knew all about those ab ridges, thanks to the pool at my parents’ house and summer vacations), continuing their path to the tantalizing lines that shaped into a V before they disappeared farther down his sculpted body to the places I had not seen.
When the water finally turned off, I breathed out a sigh in relief. It had started to get a little warm in here. I blamed it on the fact that I hadn’t been with a man in a while. Surely that was the reason behind my overactive hormones.
The soft pad of bare feet sounded on the tile floors, and I looked up. Cannon strode out into the kitchen in a pair of sweats and a fitted black t-shirt, his wet hair freshly combed. I was grateful his back was to me, or he would have seen the drool that was surely on my face.
I watched as he took a bottle of water out of the fridge and tilted his head to drink it, his back muscles bunching in time. He even made drinking water sexy.
Yanking my gaze away from him, I forced my attention to the end of the movie, the part where the couple was finally getting together after the third-act breakup. I should be looking forward to seeing the couple getting their happily-ever-after, but I was feeling the need to flee this room as fast as Cannon had earlier before I did something totally embarrassing, like throw myself at him, which would only result in what I assumed would be his horror before gently letting me down, both physically and emotionally.
In my peripheral vision, I could see Cannon making his way into the living room, taking me by surprise, as I had thought he was going to bed.
Keep your eyes on the screen, keep your eyes on the screen, I kept chanting, hoping I could pretend I was more into this movie than I really was.
Cannon sat on the other couch, keeping his distance. “Let me guess—there was a miscommunication that could have been cleared up in one conversation, and then they could have avoided all the heartbreak and been together all that time.”
I wanted to laugh, but I worked to keep my face neutral. “Oh, so you’ve seen this movie? I didn’t take you for a romance movie kind of guy.”
His amused look had me fighting a smile. “You have to admit that all these romance movies and books are all the same.” He gestured to the TV, where the couple was now in a passionate embrace. “And why don’t you take me for a romance movie kind of guy?”
I shrugged, keeping my attention on the couple. “First of all, who cares whether romance stories are all the same, because watching a love story unfold is the funnest part,” I said, arguing against his first comment. “And second, you just don’t strike me as a romance guy. You’re one of those forever bachelors. Never getting close enough to a woman to actually have a relationship.”
Wow. I couldn’t believe I had just said all that to his face. Hopefully I’d made it sound nonchalant and like a random observation, not like I was wishing he were different.
His wide eyes and raised brows told me that he couldn’t believe I had said that to him either.
“No offense,” I rushed to add, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Too bad,” he said through a grin. “Offense taken.”
His amusement at my remarks eased any tension that might have come from my earlier comments, giving me a new confidence.
“Being offended is a choice,” I refuted.
“Okay, fine,” he said. “I don’t think you’re as much of a romantic as you claim to be either.” He crossed his arms across his chest like he had just delivered an equally offensive remark, which had me almost laughing.
“Oh, really?” I asked, playing into his assumption. “And why is that?”
“Someone who really believed in romance and love and all that other gushy stuff wouldn’t have been in a years-long, on-again, off-again relationship with a total prick.” His gruff tone had me sitting further back into the couch.
Wow, okay. That was a well-done comeback.
I sat there blinking, looking down at my hands but not really seeing them. At a loss as to how to respond, I kept quiet.
My relationship with Aiden had been more convenient than anything. We definitely hadn’t had any romance, love, or any of the gushy stuff. Being with him had been easy in the sense that it had been nice to have a boyfriend at events, and my parents had been happy about it since they’d been friends with his parents for years. They had seemed to secretly hope we would get married one day. They’d pushed us together, and like I’d done with my MBA, it had been easier to go along with what my parents’ wishes than to push back. Add Aiden to the list of my regrets and my parents’ unmet expectations.
Cannon’s words stung, but they were also the truth. That’s why they had more bite to them than he’d probably intended.
“Crap,” Cannon muttered. “Demi, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He moved as if to stand but then thought better of it and sat back down.
“No, it’s fine. You’re right.” I played with a loose thread on the blanket across my lap. “I should have ended things with Aiden a long time ago.” Pushing my shoulders back, I looked at Cannon with more confidence than I felt. “But I’ll have you know that things between me and the prick are officially over. For good. I haven’t spoken to him in four months.”
He leaned his forearms against his thighs, keeping his eyes on his interlocked fingers. “That’s good. He didn’t deserve you.”
My heart pounded in my chest at the softness and sincerity in his voice. It had me daring to ask a question I might not have had the courage to ask under normal circumstances. “Are you just saying that as an overprotective brother?” I held my breath, wondering how he would respond to my use of the word brother.
He lifted his head, his gaze locked on mine. “No.” His answer full of conviction. “Sorry if this disappoints you, but I don’t have one brotherly thought about you.” His eyes were blazing with what looked like desire, but I must have been seeing things because he couldn’t possibly be looking at me like that.
Or could he?
Before I had a second to process what was happening, he was on his feet.
“It’s late. We should probably get to sleep.”
His abrupt change in topic had my mind reeling. What was going on?
First he was staying out late, possibly avoiding me. Then darting into the bathroom so he didn’t have to talk to me, but then coming back out to hang out with me on the couch.
I was probably reading way more into this than I should. The best thing to do was to act like everything was normal.
“Yeah, it is late.” I reached for the remote and turned off the TV.
“Good night, Demi,” he said but wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
“Good night, Cannon.”
And then he was gone, the soft noise of his door shutting the only sound in the quiet apartment.
I let my head fall to rest on the back of the couch. My feelings were even more confused than they had been before. Sticking to my resolve to keep my attention on school, work, and not messing with West’s friendship was going to be difficult.
Except every time I closed my eyes, that hunger in Cannon’s eyes as he looked at me flashed in my mind.