13. Emily
emily
W e get into a pleasant rhythm over the next week.
Ben works as an engineer and has a standard nine-to-five job.
He seems to be a bit of a workaholic, though.
Since I still have about a few weeks left of training for my new job in the ICU, I’ve been stuck with the same hours as Ben.
I never realized how exhausting it was to work five days a week instead of shift work.
One morning, as I get ready for work, I hear a knock at the door. My automatic reply is to tell them to come in but then realize that probably isn’t appropriate for acquaintances, much less new roommates. Instead, I yell out that I’ll be out in a minute.
Normally, I shower at the end of a grueling, back-breaking shift at the hospital, but since I’ve had this training, I’ve had to get ready in the morning. I walk out of the bathroom, and Ben is in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Good morning, the bathroom is free for you,” I say to him as I head back into my room to get dressed.
I hear him get into the shower as I grab my work bag from the bedroom. I pass through the kitchen on the way out the front door to find that Ben left a note on the small table we bought for the apartment.
“Made some breakfast for you. Have a good day—Ben.”
I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. This is the first breakfast he has ever made for me. To avoid the morning commute, I usually leave early for work and don’t have time for breakfast.
I’m so touched by his unexpected and thoughtful gesture. Logan’s never done anything remotely similar for me before. I’m giddy with excitement as I pack my work bag. Feeling like a schoolgirl whose crush has finally noticed her.
I grab the food he made for me, shoot him a text to thank him for breakfast and head out the door. I’m eager to start my day.
A fter a grueling work week, I am exhausted. I can’t wait for training to be over so I can get back to my three-day work weeks of twelve-hour shifts. Yes, the days are longer, but I have more days off to recover. I’m about to change into pajamas and call it a night, but I think better of it.
I text Ben and a few of our mutual friends to invite them to happy hour. Nearly everyone sends a reply that they want to go, except Ben.
I throw my phone on my bed and walk over to my closet to find an outfit for tonight when I hear the front door open. He must have been driving when I sent my message and probably hasn’t seen it yet.
I walk out of my room to greet him and come to an abrupt stop as I almost run right into Ben, who is heading into his room.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” I say, my breath caught in my throat.
“Hey, roomie,” he says in greeting.
“Did you see my text about happy hour?” I ask in a rush.
“Are you asking me out, roomie?” He smirks.
“Well… I mean, yeah, if you want to go. I invited some of our friends, too.” His smile dims a little before he perks up again.
“Yeah, let me get changed first.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you in the living room, and we can walk down together.”
“Sounds good,” he says before moving around me in the narrow space. Our bodies don’t touch, but I can still feel his body heat as he steps away.
I shiver and head back into my room to finish getting ready.
Ben’s changed out of his button-up shirt, tie, and slacks and is now dressed in dark jeans and a fitted long-sleeved Henley. I normally dress for comfort over style, but tonight, I dressed up a little with a sweater dress, tights, and knee-high boots.
We’re both appraisingly looking over the other person before bringing our eyes to meet. We smile at each other and head toward the front door.
I guess we’re both excited to be single and ready to mingle.
Having someone to navigate this next stage together feels like a breath of fresh air.
B en and I are at a high-top table in the bar area as our friends slowly trickle in.
I know the whole point of having a wingman is to find someone to take home for the night, but I’m having so much fun with my friends that I don’t even bother looking around at the crowd of corporate males swarming the bar.
The music is loud, and it’s hard to hear each other over the crowd, but I’m feeling relaxed and enjoying my glass of wine.
Logan and I rarely ever went out. He adheres to a very strict diet, which does not include alcohol unless it’s a special occasion.
It’s never bothered me before, but sitting here with my friends makes me realize that maybe there is a part of life that I have been missing.
I know that a lot of social events circle around food and alcohol, and because of those things, Logan and I opted to stay in instead to avoid temptation.
I must get lost in my thoughts because I startle when Ben leans over to whisper in my ear.
“What are you thinking about, roomie?” His voice is husky, and I feel a tingle spread through my body.
“N-nothing,” I stammer and turn to face him.
Our faces are inches apart. This close to him, I see he has hazel eyes brimmed with dark eyelashes that are enviable.
He sports a neatly trimmed beard with dark hair spiked messily but artfully.
I glance down at his lips just as he pokes the tip of his tongue out to lick his lower lip.
I bring my eyes back to his, and it’s like we’re the only two people in the bar as the room fades away. It feels as though the world has been spinning around me at a fast pace, and time slowed down in this moment.
Jason pushes Ben’s shoulder and breaks us free from our stare-off.
“Did you hear what I said?” Jason asks Ben, and Ben just shakes his head in reply before turning to look at Jason.
They’re best friends from college, but they also work at the same company.
I’ve heard stories of the two of them climbing the corporate ladder to land their high-ranking jobs that require a level of dedication to their job that I don’t envy.
Unfortunately, this means that they’re often talking about work, even at happy hour.
I love that I don’t have to take any of my work home with me when I’m done at the end of my shift.
Other than the emotional and mental trauma of the day-to-day occurrences in a hospital setting, I rarely think about work when I’m off.
I’ve used working out as my therapy to cope rather than seeking a professional therapist, though I guess I could probably benefit from having one of these days with recent events.
Since I have little to contribute to their conversation, I look around the bar. There seem to be a lot of attractive young guys out tonight, but most of them seem to be attached to equally attractive young women. It’s hard to tell if any of them are single or if they’re in relationships.
Amanda is savoring her ginger ale as if it were the best drink she’s ever had. She keeps looking at my wine longingly. I know she misses wine, but she can have some soon after the baby arrives.
Her descriptions of her body’s changes during her last month of pregnancy are making me cringe. “Have you two hooked up yet?” Amanda asks in a whisper, turning to me.”
My eyes widen, surprised by her unexpected question.
“What? Of course not!” I hiss in reply.
Stifling a smile, Amanda surveys the crowd. With a nod of her chin, she directs my attention to a guy by the wall. “You should go after that guy. He looks single and ready to mingle.”
My jaw drops in surprise. Amanda is aware of my lack of one-night stand experience. I had zero interest in casual sex before.
“You should do it. Let me know what it’s like to be single again,” she whines, though I know she’s just being silly.
I smile, a wry shake of my head accompanying the silent laughter building within me. I don’t even glance at the person she was pointing to. This isn’t the right time or place, and I’m having too much fun to bother.
“See anyone you like?” Ben whispers in my ear again. God, why does he keep doing that? It’s like he can’t resist startling me.
“Umm… no, not really.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Good,” he replies. He seems relieved by my answer.
After finishing another round of drinks and appetizers, I yawn and look over at Ben, who is still in a deep conversation with Jason, who’s gesticulating wildly. Jason has always had a loud personality, but he really gets excitable and shockingly louder when he’s had a few drinks.
As if he senses my gaze, Ben looks over at me and tips his head toward the door as if to say, “Are you ready to get out of here?”
I nod enthusiastically and put on my coat. I throw some cash on the table to take care of my portion of the bill and walk up to Ben and Jason as they’re saying their goodbyes.
“Ready to go, roomie?” Ben asks, and I nod as we make our way out of the restaurant.
Once outside, the cold winter air feels refreshing compared to the warm and crowded bar. The short walk back is mostly in silence, and I’m thankful. I’ve never been much for small talk, and Ben seems to be the same.
Once we get to our apartment, he takes out his keys and lets us in. He lets me use the bathroom first to get ready for bed. As I leave the bathroom, I stop short again, as Ben is right outside the door.
His cologne smells delicious.
“Oh, um, I’m done…” I look up at him. He’s staring at me intensely, his pupils dilated as he peers down at me. His hand moves up as if to brush the hair out of my face before he lets it drop back down to his side in realization of what he was about to do.
He backs up a step so I can move past him, and I scurry into my room. I shut the door quietly behind me and lean up against the door with my heart hammering in my chest.
What just happened?