Page 30 of The Reluctant Roommate

Morgan flinched. Hopefully, the tablecloth would wash.

“After serving fried food at work, I don’t want to cook when I get home,” Lula continued. “Luckily, we live a couple of hundred yards from a great Mexican place. You totally can have burritos for lunch and dinner seven days a week. Especially if they’re under five bucks.”

“You’ll get scurvy,” Heidi said.

“I have an apple most days. Don’t knock my diet. I’m saving money. Haven’t I already bought a car?”

“You have. Whether it starts every morning is another thing.”

“Cleaning the snow off it is another thing,” Lula said. “Do you have a two-car garage here, Morgan?”

She nodded.

“When you get a car, Heidi, you won’t have to scrape snow. I’d totally move for that,” Lula said.

“We haven’t discussed shoveling the path yet,” Heidi said. “So far, it’s always melted.”

“You get first turn,” Morgan said. “Maybe second too.”

“Is that how you’ve got your toned guns? Shoveling snow as well as lifting those weights in the basement? Hell, pass me the snow shovel if so. Your arms are magnificent.” A blush stole out of the neck of Heidi’s shirt. “Uh, not that I’ve been looking.”

“You’ve totally been looking.” Lula pointed her fork at Heidi.

“Well, I can’t not look. It can be minus degrees outside, but it’s always T-shirt weather in here.”

Morgan flexed a biceps. “Look all you want. But it’s mostly from the basement gym.” So Heidi had been checking her out. How long had it been since someone had? She honestly couldn’t remember. It felt…good. She tracked Heidi’s gaze, and why, yes, she was looking.

Heidi’s eyes lifted and connected with hers. Heidi’s color increased from rose pink to fiery red, and she looked away, wiped a finger through the leftover sauce, and sucked on it.

Morgan’s gaze locked on Heidi’s lips closing around her finger. A move that people did all the time, and she’d never not been able to look away. But now it seemed a sensual thing, maybe designed to tease.

Heidi finished, inspected her finger, and dropped her gaze to her plate.

So not a deliberate tease, then. A shaft of disappointment pierced Morgan’s belly. More likely Heidi was uncomfortable with the comment she’d made about Morgan’s arms.

She forked up the last of her beans, and her gaze collided with Lula’s.

Lula sat with a half smile on her face. A knowing half smile. As if she’d noted Morgan’s fixation on Heidi in that moment. Her attraction.

No, that wasn’t what it was. She normally didn’t find Heidi attractive. Her manner and dress were too casual, her accent too strange. She was altogether not the sort of person Morgan found appealing. Whenever she dated, they were professionals like herself, already established in their careers.

But for all that, here she was, attracted to Heidi. The jolt that ran through her turned into heat that scrambled up her chest to her neck.

She rose before Lula or Heidi noticed and picked up her plate. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll leave you to it—I need to call my parents. Nice meeting you, Lula.”

She put her plate in the dishwasher and fled upstairs. It was only after the door had closed behind her that her heart rate slowed. Why the hell had she fled like an awkward teenager? So what if Lula had noticed her reaction to Heidi? It didn’t change anything, and now that the moment had passed, she’d probably never notice Heidi again in that way. The sensual way she licked her fingers. Thesexualway.

To distract herself, she went and stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was an uncharacteristically gray day, and the snowcapped mountains didn’t have their usual glow.

A burst of laughter drifted up from downstairs. Was Lula even now telling Heidi that Morgan was attracted to her? Was that what they were laughing at? Morgan wrapped her arms around her waist. No, they were probably laughing at something unrelated, some inside joke between friends. Hadn’t she read somewhere that people always think others remember their mistakes or stupid things they’d done, but in reality, others don’t care? It was like the Internet—shame had a short life.

She shouldn’t have left. She’d run like a scared rabbit to hide in her room. Her WhatsApp chimed. Of course it did. She answered the call. “Hi, Mom. Hey, Dad.”

Her mom smiled at her. Her dad was half cut-off the screen as usual. One eye, half a grin. “Hi, Morgan. It’s good to see you.”

“You see me every week like this. And in two weeks, I’ll be there for Thanksgiving. Have I told you my flight details yet?”

“We need to talk about that.” Her mom’s smile slipped, and she glanced away from the screen, blinking fiercely.