Chapter 17 Adulting
Adulting
Heidi sat cross-legged on the couch, her laptop in front of her, and the University of Denver information on the screen.
Her application essay—done. Proof of education—done.
The website talked about the beautiful campus and the Friday tour with the free lunch.
Oh yeah, that was totally done, and she liked what she’d seen.
She took a deep breath and hit Send.
College application—done.
Shit. What have I done? This screamed commitment—not just to an undergraduate degree, but to a city, a state—hell, even a different country. And the financial commitment was a whole ?nother ballgame.
“Did you send it? Did you press the button?” Fiona’s voice came over the speaker. “Or are you still sitting there wibbling?”
“It’s gone. But I’m in meltdown over the whole thing. Currently, the cost and commitment.”
“You don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want to. You can ghost them when they offer you a place. Not turn up. Transfer out to another college. Come back to Australia and save yourself a heap of money.”
“No. I’m going to do it here. Denver’s my place—I feel it. I’m making money, I have a great place to live. I’m going to look at cars soon and explore those mountains.”
“What about hiring an investigator to find that criminal ex-girlfriend? Find her, get your money back, and you’ll be able to get a better car, maybe your own place.”
“True. But—” Footsteps sounded from behind, then Morgan passed through the living area and into the kitchen.
“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll look up investigators.”
Fiona’s face filled the screen. “Do. It. I’m still mad as a cut snake about Serena, the bitch.”
“You’ve mentioned this before. About a dozen times.”
Fiona laughed. “Think of the road trip you’ll have when you find her. A cross-country trip to beat down her door and demand your money. Do you have any idea where she is?”
“I imagine still in California somewhere. That’s where her family is. And, yeah, I tried to get her address from them, but they stalled me, then stopped answering my calls.”
“You’ll find a way. Well, you and a private investigator. And when you find her, ask her how to disappear. Because disappearing from my life is very tempting right now, at least until Iza grows out of her hormones and moodiness.”
“Good luck with that. You still haven’t. Like mother, like daughter.” Heidi pushed back her hair and blew a raspberry at Fiona.
“You are such a child. Like aunt, like niece. Between us both, Iza hasn’t a chance of maturing. Guess I’m stuck with her—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Morgan came out of the kitchen and held up a mug in question. Heidi nodded.
“Gotta go,” she said to Fiona. “I’m being offered coffee. I’ve got the evening shift today, so I’ll need to be caffeinated.”
“Go,” Fiona said. “Love you, Sis.”
“Love you too.” She ended the call and shut the laptop.
The kitchen smelled of quality coffee. Morgan must have made the good stuff.
She accepted the mug Morgan handed her and sniffed the steam appreciatively before taking a sip.
Morgan had added just the right amount of half-and-half.
“Thanks. Your coffee is the best. I should suck up the expense and start buying it.”
Morgan had a weird half smile on her face. “And here was me thinking I could save money and buy grocery store coffee. I’ve kinda gotten used to your cheap stuff.”
“Maybe we should mix the two together and have the worst of both worlds? Expensive coffee that tastes like mud.”
Morgan smiled. “Actually, I want to talk to you about things other than coffee. Your three-week trial is nearly up.”
Heidi froze, and her gaze flew to Morgan’s face. Was she about to be thrown out? If so, there was no way she could be ready to leave by the end of the week. It would be back to the hostel. Shit, shit, and fuckity-fuck.
“I heard what Fiona said to you,” Morgan said. “About getting your own place now that you’re settled in Denver.”
Heidi shrugged. “That’s Fiona talking. But, yes, I feel settled here. I sent my application to DU today, weeks ahead of the deadline. Go me. I’ve never been so organized.”
Morgan fiddled with the teaspoon, stirring her coffee first one way, then the other.
Heidi took a deep breath. “Should I be looking for somewhere else to live?”
Morgan continued to stir the mini whirlpool of coffee in her mug. “Have you started looking for places?”
“No. I guess it’s my bad, but you didn’t say anything about moving out. I thought we were getting on well. You left me that note about cleaning up the kitchen, and I’ve tried to do better since.”
Morgan raised an eyebrow and glanced at the pile of breakfast dishes.
“Okay, I haven’t cleaned up from this morning yet, but I will. It will sparkle and shine.”
“I’d appreciate that. I’m used to my space being exceptionally clean.
Tidy. I used to have a person who came to clean twice each week, but I—” A beat before she continued.
“I haven’t lived with anyone since college; I’m finding it a little hard to adapt.
Not just your clutter”—she pointed to Heidi’s sweatshirt and a pair of her socks abandoned on the couch—“but just having someone in my space. I wasn’t comfortable with Lula here this morning. ”
“She’s my mate. And she’s the first person I’ve had around since I’ve been living here. You joined us for breakfast; you’d have been welcome to hang around after. I wasn’t trying to exclude you.”
“I realize that.” Morgan’s shoulders hunched. “I guess it’s my nature to like chilling by myself.”
“You spend a lot of time alone.” Heidi held up her hands.
“That’s not a criticism, just an observation.
You haven’t had any friends around, and you don’t go to the office much.
I’m more extroverted than you, I think, and don’t want to live like a hermit.
I promised no parties or wild times, no hookups coming home with me—not that there’s been any of those since I moved to Denver.
You need the option of space and alone time; I need the option of time with others. ”
“Are you going all Psychology 101 on me?” Morgan’s eyes, wide, startled, suggested Heidi’s words were unwelcome.
“Maybe. I’m sorry—that was the wrong thing to say. I’m not judging you; I’m just trying to point out that I want to feel I can bring friends back here.”
Morgan was silent. She rested the spoon on the counter and took a sip of coffee.
“Are you asking me to move out? We didn’t set a time frame for that, but if it’s okay with you, I’d like—”
“No! That’s not what I want. I thought you were wanting your own place.” A shoulder lifted. “Guess I was projecting my wants on you.”
“I’d like to stay. I like the area. I love your house. I like living with you. But if you’re not comfortable with me, then maybe I should go.” Something didn’t add up in this conversation, and it was the anxiety pouring off Morgan in waves.
“You’re good to be around, Heidi. I’d really like you to stay.” She turned the mug in her hands. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be around, and I realize you’re trying hard. I hope we can keep this going.”
“Then we will.” Relief trickled through Heidi. “I’ll try even harder to be less messy. Please tell me if there’s anything you can’t stand.”
Morgan nodded. “Then it looks like you’re staying. I’ll give you my bank details so you can transfer rent directly. We should do a lease too. Does six months work for you?”
“Perfect.” In six months, who knew what would be happening? She looked at Morgan over the rim of her mug. “Can I ask you something?”
Morgan hesitated. “Sure. Is it something about the lease?”
“Not exactly. I’m just wondering why you want a housemate in the first place. You’ve got a lovely place, a great job, and from what you’ve said, you’d prefer to live alone. So why do you even want me here?”
A shimmer of moisture gleamed in Morgan’s eyes. “Fair question. But…please, I can’t answer that right now. It’s personal.”
“I’m sorry for asking. Of course you don’t have to answer.”
Morgan swallowed. “I’ll…I’ll download a lease document that we can both sign. For what it’s worth, I’m happy you’re staying, Heidi.”
Warmth stole through her. After Serena, after unappreciative Robert, it was good to be wanted, even as a not-the-worst housemate.
“Thanks. I’m happy I’m staying too.” She flung her arms wide and stepped into Morgan’s space, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pressing a swift kiss onto her cheek.
The warmth of her body, the feel of her skin, made her pause.
As did the unmistakable stiffening in Morgan’s shoulders.
She released her and looked down. What she’d thought was body warmth was warm coffee from the mug Morgan still held. “Oh shit.”
Morgan stared at her pale-blue shirt, now with a spreading brown stain. Her gaze met Heidi’s, and her lips twitched. In anger or amusement? Heidi couldn’t tell.
“I’ll wash that for you. Quick, take it off so I can soak it.”
“Yours too.” Morgan pointed at the stain on Heidi’s T-shirt.
“Double shit.” Heidi stripped off her T-shirt and left it on the counter, then hurried to where she’d abandoned her sweatshirt on the couch earlier.
Her bra was wet too. With her back to the kitchen, she removed her bra and pulled on the sweatshirt.
When she looked up, her gaze collided through the window with the mailman’s, his hand outstretched, frozen in the act of putting junk mail in their letter box.
Heidi laughed. She mouthed, “Sorry” to the astonished mailman and returned to the kitchen. Morgan was wrapped in her waterproof jacket that had been hanging by the back door.
“I’ve accidentally flashed my boobs to the mailman.” The laughter bubbled out of her. “I’m not sure if he’ll skip our house from now on or if we’ll get extra deliveries.”
Morgan’s lips quirked. “The latter, I think. If he’d seen my boobs, it might be different.”
The laughter died. Morgan’s boobs would be delicious; Heidi was sure of that. They’d be small and perfectly formed, pale and soft-skinned, and—
No. She would not think of Morgan in that way. Not now, not ever. They were roommates and friends and nothing more. But Morgan, too, had stopped laughing, and her gaze was fixed on Heidi’s sweatshirt, as if she were imagining what Heidi’s boobs looked like.
Heidi forced her body to move and held out a hand. “Let me take your shirt, and I’ll put them in the wash.”
The blue shirt and an insubstantial lacy bra landed in her outstretched hand.
Cream lace. Silky material. Soft. Heidi swallowed hard.
Now she couldn’t shake the visual of Morgan’s perfect breasts encased in this wispy dream of a bra, a montage of Morgan bathed in hazy sunlight drifting through an English cottage garden surrounded by butterflies.
Something soft-filtered and perfect and refined.
“On second thought, I better hand wash the bra.” Morgan took it back from Heidi’s hand.
Shit. She was obviously uncomfortable. Heidi had been too obvious. “Uh, I’ll put these in the washer.”
She turned and, with thundering heart and shaky legs, took the steps to the basement.