Page 81 of The Invisible Roommate

“I slept well, actually,” Emory confessed. The night’s activities had drained him of energy, and while he didn’t love the itchy feel of the jail uniform, the dry T-shirt, pants, and regulation underwear were better than the still-damp costume he’d arrived in.

Surprise stamped Gerard’s face. “Oh, that’s good. I barely closed my eyes. The storm did a number on the island, and I was too worried about you. The bed was so cold without you in it.”

Emory let the softest of smiles stretch across his face. “I missed you beside me, of course. I think having confessed everything—everything that had been weighing on me—I was just an overused sponge finally wrung out and set on the counter.”

“I understand,” Gerard said. “It’s still so strange to be able to see you. And of course, now I can see you but I can’t touch you. The unfairness of life.”

“Tell me about it.” He sighed. “There’s not even a mirror in here. I must look a mess. Last night, as soon as I saw my face again, it was like looking at my mother’s ghost. I pinpointed all the features she’d given me.”

Gerard beamed at him. “They’re good features.”

Emory cracked a watery laugh. “Was everyone mad, after I left?”

“I wouldn’t say mad,” Gerard relayed. “Surprised, for sure. Today, I think the islanders are more concerned about the storm damage than the invisible prankster.”

“Is that what they’re calling me?” he asked.

“The invisible prankster, the invisible joker, the invisible jester—”

“Okay, I get the picture.”

“I think…” Gerard visibly considered his words. “I think they’re all saying it with fondness. Ribbing you, the way you would someone you cared about. There was a lot of laughter last night after you left. I don’t know; I could be wrong. Regardless, I have to say you inspired me. What you did last night—it took a lot of guts.”

“I only did what I knew was right,” Emory said. He didn’t want his reputation among these folks to be one of meanness and darkness. In his heart, he hoped for a second chance.

“Sometimes the right thing to do is the scariest thing of all,” said Gerard, a contemplative expression falling over his face.

Sergeant Adye appeared then and said they’d need to wrap up their visit because he had patrol to do.

“This should all be sorted soon,” Gerard said. “You have a right to a speedy trial. They can only hold you here for a maximum of seventy-two hours, right?” Gerard’s hopeful eyes swung to Sergeant Adye as he stood.

“That’s right.” He, too, seemed hopeful. But why?

“Until then, I’ll come back to see you as much as I can. I promise.” Gerard spotted the cage with Marvel Jr. on the desk and walked over to it. “Who is this?”

“Marvel Jr. finally returned,” Emory said. “Would you take him back to the apartment with you? He’s easy to care for.”

Gerard crouched down so that he was eye level with the mouse. “Hello there, Marvel Jr. It’s nice to meet you. I’m going to be mouse-sitting you until your dad comes home. Will that be okay with you?”

Smart as ever, Marvel Jr. let out a squeak that sounded gleeful. Gerard widened his eyes back at Emory, who pressed his face between the cold metal bars, cheeks smushing up against them in an untamable smile. “He likes you,” Emory said. “And I love you.”

Gerard picked up the cage. “I love you, too.”

38Gerard

Returning to an old life was easy if you planned it ahead of time.

Gerard Wells had been too busy falling in love to prepare.

The next morning, when he spotted a crowd of young women amassed outside Regina’s house and heard the drone-like brrrr of helicopter propellers growing nearer, it was too late to draw up a set of steps. His old life had invaded his new one, and his defenses were nowhere in sight.

Two bodyguards—ostensibly ones sent in on boats earlier by the record label—were staked out on Regina’s lawn like leftover Halloween decorations keeping back the crowd. Wellies were known for chasing their town cars down busy city streets and dropping geolocations on social media when one of them was spotted at a coffee shop, but this was next-level. Some of them held up signs that at this distance, backlit by the sun, were unreadable.

All Gerard wanted to do was go see Emory. Trapped, he drew tight the curtains and sank onto the edge of the bed. His breath grew shallow. This was everything he hated about fame battering down his door.

A key in the lock shocked him out of his paralysis. For a moment, he assumed it was Emory. They’d let him go. He’d know what to do. But Regina slipped inside, closing the door firmly behind her. “Jeez, I knew you were famous, but I didn’t know you were this famous.”

The words didn’t process at first. Outside, the fans started singing “LA? Okay!” and their voices seeped in through the walls. God, that inane song would follow him to the grave! Then he asked, “Wait—you knew I was famous?”