Roommate Wanted

They spent most of their days together, Colin cooking breakfast, Marie preparing lunch, and dinner becoming a kind of cooking lesson for Marie courtesy Colin. Although they never explicitly planned to do anything together, if one of them was watching something on television, the other inevitably became interested. Their nights were spent sitting across from one another at the kitchen table with their laptops, either silently working or writing e-mails or fooling around on the Internet, more often than not taking breaks to talk.

On this night, Colin had found Marie wrapped in a blanket on the couch, watching an old western.

"May I?" Marie nodded at him without looking away from the screen.

"Just started." Colin plopped down beside her and leaned back. Marie had tucked a bag of popcorn under one arm, and she was digging for a handful. Colin eyed the bag, and she took notice and turned to him. "Want some?"

"If you have any to spare."

"Here," she offered as she held out a cupped hand full of popcorn. Colin saw the playful look on her face, heard the stifled giggle, and he grinned. He took her fingers with his and watched her face as he ate right out of her hand. In an instant, her playful look became one of surprise and Marie let out a startled laugh.

Marie wasn't as shocked by Colin's action as she was the jolt of desire she felt as his mouth grazed her palm, the softness of his mouth contrasting with the roughness of his facial hair. The feeling was unexpected. Colin gave her a teasing half-grin, and Marie handed him the bag. But after about 20 minutes, she realized that she hadn't been paying attention to the movie at all and had lost track of the plot. She could think only of the touch and her response.

Marie glanced over at Colin. He seemed unaffected. His eyes were locked on the movie, and she felt a twinge of dismay. Her mind raced; the images it presented her were unnerving. A picture of Colin touching her again with his soft lips and unshaven skin, exploring places beyond the palm of her hand. Marie reassured herself that the thought only came to her because it had been a long time since she'd last slept with anyone. The kiss had brought all that built-up tension up to the surface, and Colin was the closest man at hand. Literally.

Marie stretched out her legs, sank into the pillows, and laid her head on the arm of the couch. She curled up fetal position, with her feet close to Colin.

"Why don't you stretch out?" Colin's voice was low and, over the gunfire on TV, Marie almost didn't hear him.

"You don't mind?"

"Why would I?" So Marie uncurled, and Colin lifted her feet over his lap. But Colin hadn't really thought it through. He had figured it might be a pleasurable position with Marie so close. But he felt himself stir with her feet on his thighs. He hadn't had the forethought to realize that she might discern just how pleasurable he found the position to be.

Gazing downward, he evaluated the situation. As it was, she wasn't close enough to him to recognize his arousal, but if she were to move her feet even an inch, he would be found out. Colin let his hands drop to his lap to disguise his hard-on. But the devil in him wished desperately for her to move, to rub her legs against him, to make contact and realize how much he ached, to turn to him with eyes dark with lust.

Colin wasn't so fortunate. He glanced Marie's way, as though he might read her knowledge of his predicament on her face. Instead, he saw that the blanket had fallen to the side and her nightshirt had ridden up around her hips. Her legs were parted in such a way that he could see the crotch of her panties, a pale pink cotton. He could see the dark nexus where silky thigh met her warm sex. At least, he imagined that it would be warm, as he considered what touching her there might feel like, tearing that thin cotton panel away and sliding a single finger into the welcoming wetness, up to the knuckle.

More than warm, he thought, it would be as hot as he felt now. He was so worked up that he felt like flame licked his skin. He thought of what it might be like to push her against the arm of the sofa, grab the hem of her nightshirt and pull it up and over her back, take her from behind as he bit her neck and fisted his hands in her hair.

And so Colin had come to the realization that there were benefits to living with Marie, even if the two were no more than roommates, and even if, at the moment, this particular "benefit" felt more like torture. Not a day went by that he didn't spy some secret sliver of skin. And not since he had seen a woman nude for the first time as a young boy had he felt such excitement, such wild arousal.

He memorized every glimpse of hip or flash of underwear when her dress rode up, a hint of smooth thigh when she crossed her legs in her robe, a crescent of breast as seen through a loose button-up shirt. Some mornings he was fortunate enough to find her in her bedroom, door left slightly ajar, working out in boyshorts and a flowing top. In certain yoga poses, the top rode up and afforded him a view of soft stomach or back with its twin dimples, skin dewy with perspiration.

He assembled these snapshots like puzzle pieces, scientific in his care to construct a faithful vision of her in his mind, and this was the image that kept him awake at night. It was this image that made him wonder, and this image that made him ache to take her, to slip into bed next to her, to do a thousand unthinkable things to her. And still, what haunted him most was the ghost of their kiss, a hint of what could be. He brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a groan and tried unsuccessfully to turn his attention back to the movie.

What Colin didn't know was that Marie's display was anything but accidental. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to do it. It might have been revenge for his electric touch, the desire he had awakened.

Marie studied Colin in profile. She suddenly felt as though she hadn't really seen him the first time that they had met. The basic details had been clear then, but the nuances had escaped her. His eyes were soft and blue, giving him a look that managed to be both kind and sensual, which were adjectives that applied to him as a whole as well, she now realized. His mouth was serious and full below the mustache. Without his mustache, he may have almost been considered pretty. No, not pretty, she thought. "Handsome" was just the right word for what he was.

She shifted on the couch, uncomfortable with this new knowledge. Then she surprised herself by wondering what he might look like naked and whether he was as reserved in bed as he was around her. Maybe, like some men she had known, he was another animal entirely behind bedroom doors.

When he turned to her and caught her gaze, his eyes were full of strange emotion. No one had ever looked at her quite this way before, and the best word she could find to describe it was "smoldering." The look simultaneously frightened her and gave her a thrill, as though he had read her mind. What she didn't know was that he feared she had read his.

"I'm going to get to bed," he announced.

"Goodnight." There was an unusual seriousness to his voice. A huskiness. She nodded and felt herself shrink from him and brought her legs up underneath her.

"Goodnight," she managed to return.

***

After that night, the tension in the house had reached a new level. After their first terrifying kiss, the two had tried to forget their encounter and struggled to be "just friends." They had almost pulled it off. Now, the closeness they'd once had was tenuous at best. Something about the night on the couch had left them even more frightened than the night they had actually touched. Each of them knew, whether or not they admitted it to themselves, that casual friendship was impossible, that they were meant to be more. So they kept to themselves in their respective bedrooms. They made an active effort to leave the house, whether for errands or for fun, to see their friends. Sometimes they stayed out for hours.

Colin was washing up the dishes when he heard the lock on the front door rattle. He looked up at the clock; it was almost 2AM. Marie had left the house around 8PM, he remembered, and he'd opted to stay in, exhausted by hiding. Although she'd been scarce recently, Marie had never been this late. Worried, he entered the living room to watch her struggle with the door. Lyle, who had been sleeping soundly on the couch, rose to join him. After a few moments passed, Colin moved toward it and opened it himself. Except it was not Marie at the door. At least, it wasn't just Marie. She'd brought company.

"Hi," Jack said, startled. He was the last person Colin wanted to see, and he gave him a hard look. Jack had Marie propped up with one arm. Colin's face softened as he realized she was in bad shape. Lyle, who just now seemed to be waking up, barked and ran circles around them, but the men were too involved to take notice.

"What happened to her?" he pressed Jack, a hard edge in his voice.

"Had a few too many." He paused, an inscrutable look on his face. "Marie said you probably wouldn't be around."

"She was wrong." Jack looked perplexed, and something about this made Colin even more uncomfortable.

"Well, I'm just going to help her in." Colin stepped aside to let Jack carry her in.

"This isn't really like Marie. I've never seen her have more than one or two drinks."

"No, I guess it isn't. But, you know, we all have a bad day, and she's such a lightweight. She was stressed about work, you know?" Colin nodded his head at this, but his face had darkened. Marie, after all, had been happier than ever about the state of things, at least where her business was concerned.

Jack had dragged Marie to the couch and was using it for support. She seemed to be murmuring something, but it was incoherent. As the scene unfolded, he felt a gnawing unease. Lyle had jumped up onto the back of the couch and seemed to be investigating tentatively, sniffing Marie and whining.

"Where's everyone else?"

"It was just me and Marie tonight. A kind of a date, I guess. Finally." Jack smiled congenially at Colin, but Colin felt anything but congenial.

"How nice for you." Colin gritted his teeth. Jack nodded, and he lifted Marie's limp body like a new husband about to carry his bride across the threshold. "Do you think you're going somewhere?" Colin asked.

"I was just going to take her to her bedroom."

"What makes you think that would be okay?" Colin took a long stride toward Jack and blocked his path. He leaned in close to her and smelled her breath.

"I can't even smell alcohol. What's the deal here, buddy?" He closed in on Jack, menacing. "We both know she's not drunk. Did you drug her? Have you done something to her?" Colin glared at him accusingly, then looked back at Marie. He shook her gently by her shoulders but she only moaned a little.

"No, man, come on." Jack sighed as though Colin's interrogation was an inconvenience. "Just relax."

"You're not taking her anywhere, okay?" Colin turned his full attention to Jack. Now that the situation was clear to him, he was furious. "You are going to leave her here, on the couch, and then you're going. Or else I'm calling the cops."

Jack scrambled for a solution. He had had plenty to drink and was doing his best to stay lucid. To top it off, he had taken some pills at the bar. He hadn't been entirely sure what they were; a friend had given them to him, and he'd accepted without a second thought. All he knew was that Colin shouldn't have been home. He was an obstacle to Jack's ultimate goal. A sober Jack might have concluded that Colin was just as built as he was, if not more, and recognized that his protectiveness might lead to action. Faded Jack opted to plead his case instead, some vague idea of brotherhood encouraging him.

"Look, man. Marie and I could have something good, she's just too damn thick to see it yet. You know how picky she is. And I get that you want her for yourself, but cut me some slack. I've been after her for years. This might be my only chance with her."

Colin socked Jack. This surprised them both. Jack howled and fell backward onto the carpet, causing Lyle to let loose frenzied barks. He lifted the back of his hand to his bloodied nose and tried to push away the insistent dog.

"Jesus, man. Jesus. I think you broke my nose."

"Leave, or I'll break something else." Jack was up on his feet and scurried out the door. And Colin was left to fume, then panic. He froze beside her. Marie was limp, stretched out on the couch, clothes wrinkled. His panic made him foggy. She'd be so upset to see the state of her blouse, her favorite. It only took him a split second to realize how idiotic that was, how stupid with anger and anxiety he was. In a brief moment of clarity, he made sure his keys were in his pocket, and then he lifted her up and walked out the door, almost forgetting to shut it behind him, leaving Lyle to watch and wait.

***

Colin had forgotten how frightening an emergency room could be. It was even worse at 4AM with no distractions and no word yet on how Marie was doing. He had to resist the impulse to ask the nurse every five minutes whether she'd had any news. The fact that the nurses hadn't let him accompany her had made him even more upset, but he understood why. To them, he could very well be the one who had drugged her.

A nurse entered the waiting room and beckoned. He snapped to attention and bounded toward her. She ushered him into the hallway and led him toward a doctor.

"You are?" the doctor inquired.

"Colin McKinley. Her roommate. Is she all right?"

"She's going to be fine. Whatever it was, it doesn't seem like she ingested enough of it to cause any permanent damage. There was also no evidence of sexual assault. She's going to feel a bit under the weather for the next couple of days, but the worst is over." The doctor paused and sized Colin up. "So how did this happen?"

"She was on a date. The guy brought her home, didn't think I'd be around. It was pretty clear what his intentions were but I chased him off." Colin decided not to mention that he had also slugged him. The doctor nodded at this. Colin figured the heat was off him now, and that they might let him finally see her.

"Unfortunately, in this kind of situation, we're going to have to get the police involved. I hope you won't mind sticking around to talk to them."

"Not in the least," Colin sighed. The relief that flooded him was so overwhelming that his knees buckled, and he fell against the wall.

***

Marie was discharged around noon the next day. She was lucid and frightened. On the car ride home, she turned to Colin. "You have to tell me everything you remember," she ordered.

"Look, you're fine. That's what matters."

"I have to know." Her voice had gotten quiet.

"Jack brought you home. At first, I thought you were just drunk. He said you'd had too much. It didn't sit right with me. He tried to reason with me, thinking that I would understand, but I told him to get lost. Then I took you to the hospital."

You told him to get lost and he listened? I'd been trying that myself for years."

"I think the punch may have gotten the message across."

"The what? You did what?" Colin cringed at the tone of her voice. She sounded incensed. But when he looked over, Marie was smiling. "I guess you're my hero."

"He said that you two were on a date last night." He knew he sounded accusatory, felt accusatory, but he was upset that she'd willingly go on a date with Jack, a guy who was an asshole and an idiot in equal measure. She was too smart not to have recognized that a guy like Jack could have something like this in him.

"Gross," was Marie's response.

"What?"

"I said 'gross.' I was out with a bunch of my friends, and he showed up. He said he just wanted to chat for a while, buy me a drink. I felt bad for him. He's been after me for forever. Never thought things would go like that, though. No one else did, either, 'cause they bailed and left us alone." Marie slumped back in her seat. "I feel like hell." Colin reached a hand out to touch her shoulder as he pulled into the driveway. He almost felt guilty for touching her.

He helped Marie limp into the house, then into bed. After that, he saw very little of her. She slept for almost two days straight. She kept her door open just a crack, and Colin made sure she had water at all times and brought her meals and little snacks. Each time he entered her room, he watched for the rise and fall of her breath, then did his best not to stare. Lyle kept vigil at her bedside, growling softly if Colin came too close for comfort.

As time passed, concern had begun to creep back into Colin's consciousness, until the third day, when Marie finally came to. He could hear music playing softly in her bedroom.

"You doing okay? Do you need anything?" Colin stood at the threshold of her open door.

"I'm actually feeling better. Just a little weak still." Marie sat up in bed and surveyed the room around her, which was messy by her standards. She turned off the music.

"Do you want a glass of water? Something to eat?" She looked up at him and furrowed her brow.

"A glass of water might be all right." With that, Colin hustled into the kitchen and returned with a glass already frosty from ice water. She pulled herself to the edge of the bed, legs dangling. Colin stood across from her, back against the wall. She took a tentative sip, then a long gulp, and set the glass down on her night table. "You don't have to stand so far away. I'm not in quarantine." She paused. "It's been a couple of days since I last showered, though."

"Oh, I know," he replied with a gentle smile. "I just... I don't know how to explain it." Marie watched his face carefully, thoughtfully. Finally, she spoke.

"I get it. But you weren't the one who put something in my drink. Right?"

"Right." Colin forced a smile. It was then that he came closer to Marie, then fell to his knees in front of her. Marie gasped and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. He stared down at his hands searchingly. It wasn't just Colin's concern for Marie or his blinding anger at Jack that wore him out and caused him to collapse: it was the realization that his lust for her ran deeper than he had imagined. His worry was not the worry of a roommate or even of a close friend. He was in love with her, and Colin was unsure when and how that had happened. The realization made him vulnerable.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. I think so. I'm sorry, I think it all just hit me at once. I haven't slept, and I've been worried. And pissed. I think I even feel guilty."

"Guilty?" Marie smiled at him like she might smile at a confused child. "Were you in cahoots with Jack?"

"No, just Catholic. But I do feel like I could have done more."

"You could have slugged him more than once. Just a suggestion." Colin nodded. The two were silent then. Colin leaned forward and Marie rested her palm against the side of his face as he laid his head in her lap. He settled his arms against her legs, his hands at her hips, the embrace more innocent than wanton. She traced shapes along his stubble, and he sighed. "I think you're taking this harder than I am, Colin."

"I should have asked you how you're feeling," he mumbled. Colin's hands tensed and he tightened his grip on Marie.

"This isn't some kind of weird come-on, right?" Marie teased. Colin blushed a little, but he raised himself to face her and laughed.

"No, nothing like that."

"I'm just fine, Colin." And with a friendly rub of his bald head, she reassured him, "You don't have anything to worry about." But it didn't seem that way to Colin.

***

A little over a week later, Colin woke late in the night. He glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. It was only 11PM. He wondered whether he should continue to struggle to sleep, but he knew his mind was too awake for that. Sleeping hadn't come easy to him for a long time. He'd worn only his boxers to bed, so he rummaged through a drawer in his wardrobe for a t-shirt and pulled it on.