This was why Tyler was my best friend, despite all his douchey tendencies. He did the right thing when it mattered without me asking him to.
“So I’ve been avoiding all your hookups for no reason?” I said.
He flashed an unapologetic smile. “Yup.”
“And you didn’t feel like telling me about this until now because?”
“Because I didn’t want the competition if anyone got a good look at you. The last thing we need is another –”
I pointed at him. “Do not say another Cara McKinley situation.”
Tyler’s college girlfriend had been a real piece of work, doing her damnedest to come between us, but not in the way he thought. Cara had abuser written all over her. I’d seen the signs early and tried to warn Tyler, but he wouldn’t listen.
Her behavior was straight out of my father’s playbook. She tried to separate Tyler from me and everyone else in his life. I lost count of the times I watched her blatantly lie to manipulate my roommate, always making herself out to be the victim, and she constantly rewrote events and gaslighted Tyler when he tried to correct her. I talked to him several times while they were dating, pointing her behavior out, but he refused to see it, too blinded by the way she love-bombed him.
So, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I’d found Cara rifling through Tyler’s things one day while he was gone and cornered her, staring unblinking into her eyes and smiling with all my teeth while I told her who my dad was and that if she didn’t leave my roommate alone, I would make my father’s crimes look like child’s play.
She’d run from the dorm. She also told everyone what I’d done and reported me to campus security, letting my secret out of the bag, which eventually led to Tyler and I bailing on that school.
I had no regrets, even though Tyler was still convinced I’d driven Cara away because she hit on me or something.
I shook my head at my roommate. “It sounds like you might be the one who doesn’t want me left alone with Aly.”
He pushed off the counter. “Are you kidding? If I thought something might happen between you two, I’d line the front hall with rose petals, fill this place with candles, and blast some Marvin Gaye. You need to get laid, man. You’ve been spending way too much time alone in your room, and at the rate you’re going, you’re either going to get carpal tunnel or early-onset arthritis in your wrist.”
I went stock-still. He didn’t have a problem with me seeing Aly? Excitement coursed through my veins. That was one less hurdle I had to jump, one less obstacle to overcome on the road to making her mine.
The second half of Tyler’s statement hit me on delay because of my distraction, and I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not sitting in my bedroom whacking it 24/7.”
Wait, why was I arguing? It was better he thought I’d turned into a serial masturbator than learn the truth about how I’d been spending my days lately.
“I’ve just been working a lot,” I lied.
He eyed me. “If you say so.”
“Don’t you have a date?” I asked. He needed to leave. Now. Aly was probably already on her way here.
Tyler checked his watch. “Shit. Sarah’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.”
The tightness in my chest eased as he raced into his room. If I had any hope of keeping Aly from figuring out who I was, Tyler couldn’t be here.
I drummed my fingers against the coffee table as I listened to him getting ready.
Come on, come on. Your hair looks fine. Stop fixing it in the mirror.
The fact that I knew what he was doing without needing to see him probably meant we’d been living together too long.
A few minutes later, he returned, wearing a stylish black peacoat with the collar turned up, and stopped in the middle of our living space. A crease appeared between his brows as he looked me over. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
“Get the fuck out,” I said, the words a little harsher than I intended. I was running out of time.
He sent me a flat look. “Fine, but call me if shit goes sideways.”
I waved him off, and he stalked out of the loft, looking pissy. I’d have to find some way to apologize later.
The second the door closed behind him, I leaped from the couch and turned off the heat before racing around to open every window in the apartment. I’d kept my injured hand hidden from Tyler, but that wouldn’t work with Aly because I needed both of them to type. I bet I was already on her list of suspects – I was an obvious add because she’d met me and I was good with computers – so I’d have to be crafty if I wanted to ease her suspicions. To that end, I’d spent the past hour gleefully developing a plan.
Who knew stalking and games of deception were so much goddamn fun?
Uh, your dad? my brain helpfully supplied.
I stopped dead in my tracks and cringed. I needed to find some way to muzzle my subconscious. It kept popping up at the most inopportune moments to point out flaws in my logic or draw comparisons between me and the monster who’d contributed half my DNA.
So what if I shared a few traits with the man? As long as they weren’t the bad ones, did it matter? After all, I’d also inherited my mom’s propensity to overthink things, and that had been giving me more grief lately than any of the shit I got from Dad.
I shook my head and returned to the thermostat, watching the temperature drop into the low sixties. As soon as it hit fifty-five, I closed the windows again. There. That should do the trick. Cold enough to require layers but not so bad that Aly would start shivering.
Our thermostat was in the entryway where she might see it and notice I’d turned it off, so I hefted a canvas print of my mom, stepdad, and me from my visit with them this summer that Mom had sent me and hung it over the thermostat to hide it from sight. Not my best work, but it would have to do for now.
The loft was a large rectangle, and the door to my room was right off the entry hall. From there, the space opened up, with the kitchen to the left and the living room to the right, banked by massive windows dating back to when this building was an industrial factory. Tyler’s room was on the opposite side as mine, and you’d think that would mean I didn’t hear what went on inside it because we were so separated. Unfortunately, the big open space between us acted like some sort of sexual echo chamber, the exposed brickwork and overhead ducts carrying every moan and grunt straight to my room.
Three nights ago, I looked up from my computer screen and said, “Wait for it. Waaait for it. Now,” right before Tyler let out an almighty groan, and the apartment went silent.
I shuddered at the memory, wishing I could unlearn the warning sounds my roommate made before he came.
We’d definitely been living together too long.
I dropped my focus to the floor and searched for anything I missed while cleaning earlier. Tyler liked to leave his socks lying around, but he’d been doing it less and less. He complained the other day that he was running out of them and the dryer must be eating them somehow. It wasn’t. I was throwing them away to try and break his bad habit.
Mean? Maybe. But according to the whiteboard hanging by my desk, it had been five days since the last sock was left on the living room floor – a new record! – so I wasn’t about to stop.
I paced into my room and grabbed a sweatshirt and fingerless gloves. I’d already intended to wear the latter to hide the tattoos on my hands, but with my stitches, they were doubly necessary now.
Two phones lay side by side on my bed. I made sure the burner I texted Aly from was switched to silent and left it behind as I grabbed my real one and strode out of the room. Just in case Aly felt snoopy when she arrived, I locked my door behind me.