Page 11 of The Reluctant Roommate

“It wasn’t,” Morgan lied. “So, why do you want to share rather than get your own apartment?”

“It’s cheaper, and I’ve always shared houses. Made some good mates that way. Met a few housemates I’d rather forget about too, but more good than bad. I won’t steal your food, drink direct from your container of milk, or lie on the carpet at three in the morning, stoned out of my mind and blasting prog rock at full volume.”

“People do that?” It seemed there was a lot to learn about the roommate world.

“Prog rock is at least pleasant. One housemate liked heavy metal.”

“So, what do you listen to at threea.m.?”

Heidi laughed. “Whatever I can hear through my earplugs. In the past, I’ve listened to housemates snoring, a dog barking because he was left outside, and couples fighting. Here, I would hope that all I hear is silence. But, of course, it’s give-and-take. It’s your house, so maybe you have parties or listen to Van Morrison on repeat.”

“No to Van Morrison, and while I sometimes have friends around, I’m not a party person.” It was like a negotiation. Eachparty set their cards down one by one until the full picture was revealed. “And you definitely have no kids or anyone who’ll be moving in with you?”

“It’s just me. Although, what are your thoughts about guests staying over?”

The beige flag popped over the parapet again. “What sort of guests?”

Heidi shrugged. “The usual. A friend who stops over rather than drives home after a night out. A regular lover sometimes, or the occasional casual hookup.”

Oh.Morgan nibbled her lower lip. Every nerve in her body was screamingNo! A friend, maybe. But a romantic partner could end up moving in by stealth: a night here, a night there, until it was four, five nights a week, and then they were in. And hookups… Strangers. Probably drunk. What sort of filters would Heidi have if she, too, was intoxicated? Would they wake in the morning to find the house ransacked?

“Friends are okay, except they’d have to sleep in your room. If you moved in, I’d want to set a limit on how many nights a regular partner could stay.”

“Fair enough,” Heidi said. “And you’d let me know if you find a partner?”

“I guess.” She barely remembered what it was like having a partner. The couple of brief relationships she’d had in the last seven years hadn’t approached that status. Mattingley had swallowed her life in a big gulp and was only now spitting her out. She drew a breath. “But I’m not comfortable with people I don’t know—a hookup—staying over.”

“Okay. I don’t have many hookups, but if I do, I’m okay with going to theirs.”

Wow. As easy as that?Heidi’s life was light-years from her own. She took a sip of coffee. Maybe she should say to Heidi that she didn’t think they were compatible and keep looking fora roommate. The professional woman she’d advertised for in the first place. Someone who didn’t hook up and didn’t know what prog rock was. She opened her mouth to say that but stopped.

Heidi was studying her. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. She’d pushed her shirt up to her elbows, revealing defined forearms, lightly sprinkled with brown hair. Even now, at the start of winter, Heidi had a light tan. But, then, she’d recently come from California.

“You’re unsure about me, aren’t you?” Her smile crinkled the edges of her eyes. “We’re obviously quite different. But your advert’s been up for a few weeks now, and you haven’t found anyone to share, despite this being a gorgeous place. And I need somewhere to live, and I’ve lived with enough people to know that I’m really not the worst. Why don’t we give it a trial? Say, one month? Then, at the end of that month, either of us can end the arrangement without further debate. It could be enough to say that it’s just not working.”

Morgan nibbled her lip again. Heidi was right. Her ad had been up for weeks, and the responses were fewer and fewer. Of the people who had come around, no one had come close to being the sort of person she was looking for. Heidi was the best of a bad lot, although that didn’t say much.

“Two weeks,” she said.

“Three.” Heidi tilted her head, and the purple streak fell over her forehead. “I’m job hunting, and checking into enrollment at DU. I really don’t want to have to hunt for another room as well.”

“Okay, three.”

Heidi extended a hand. “Shake.”

Morgan grasped it. Heidi’s hand was softer than she’d expected, and her firm grip didn’t linger. One pump and she withdrew her hand.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to move in as soon as possible,” Heidi said. “Save me finding a new hostel for a couple of nights. I’ve reached the time limit where I am now.”

“Tomorrow?” No sense dragging this out. And what did she have to do, anyway? Find the sheets for the bed, clear a shelf in the fridge and in the pantry.

“That works. How do you want me to pay you? Cash? Venmo? Direct to your bank?”

She hadn’t thought. She really was naïve about all of this. “Um… cash for these trial weeks. If we take it past that, direct to my bank would be easier.” By then she’d know if she could trust Heidi.

“No worries. Do you want the first week now?” Heidi pulled a wallet from the back pocket of her jeans and opened it. Without waiting for Morgan’s reply, she counted the bills out and set them on the coffee table.

The wallet was a lot thinner once she’d done that. Morgan mentally shrugged. Who carried much cash these days? Heidi doubtless had a credit card or two.