Something tells me that nothing I do can stop myself from falling for my roommate.
I’ve always wanted to be a chef.
But the same day two pink lines showed up on the test, was the day I gave up chasing my own dreams to put my daughter first.
I didn’t expect that to lead to a life of being scrutinized by my parents for every single move I made.
After years of it, I was done.
I caught the first flight to New York. I was already filled with nerves before we even took off until a stranger with an infectious smile, heartbreaker blue eyes and a personality that can light up anyone's life, took the seat next to me.
Months later, the same man shows up at my bar in a small town in the mountains. This time he’s eager to learn more about me.
I thought telling him I have a daughter would make him run back home, except now I find myself as his new roommate in the city.
I told myself I wasn’t going to get involved with him.
I told myself that I’m here to live out my dream of being a chef.
But somewhere along the way, he stole my heart.
And if I had to take a guess… It was back when we took that first flight.
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Excerpt:
For a man who makes my cheeks hurt from smiling so much when he’s around, Oliver sure is doing a number on my sleep patterns.
I don’t think I’ve slept a normal amount since he came into my life.
It’s as if he tilted everything on its axis for me.
Except, I don’t have time to be tired right now. Apparently it’s a busy travel day for people leaving town and they all want to get a quick lunch in before they hit the road. So the Bar and Grill is packed today.
I feel less guilty working than I normally do because Flora has Mackenzie for the day. She is taking her downtown for lunch and to see the horses.
There’s two different types of spoiling she’s experienced. The kind from my parents that includes monetary things and gifts that get shoved in a closet or are given to her with an ulterior motive. And then there's the type of spoiling that two people who don’t hold a grandparent title give her—love and experiences.
Just as the lunch rush finally dies down and I get the bar area cleaned up, I hear the bell ding, signaling someone is coming in.
Just as my eyes land on the entrance, I see Oliver walking toward me like a man on a mission.
I prop my hand on my hip as I stare at him. “How did I know you would be coming in today?”
“Something about this place…” His eyes trail my body. No doubt I look a hot mess right now after that rush we just had. I also probably smell like grease and booze. “I would much rather be here than anywhere else. Plus, we need to talk.”
I feel like when a man tells you we need to talk, that's when the break up happens. But we’re not even remotely on that level, so why does my stomach flip when he says those words to me?
Anxiety wins instantly because I wonder if I did something wrong by telling him I had a daughter. When I did, I watched as the wheels spun in his head while he processed the information I unloaded on him.
Twenty minutes later, he claimed he had to get back and left rather abruptly.
I don’t blame him, honestly.
Dropping a bomb like that one will cause anyone’s head to spin.
Is he ending our friendship because I have a daughter?
This is it. This is where the judgment comes from me being a young, single mom.
I should be used to this from living with it for so long. I learned how to brush it off after my parents would throw it in my face any chance they got. But it feels different with Oliver. There’s something about him that makes me care about what he thinks more than anyone.
Even if once he leaves for the city, I’m likely never going to see him again.
“Come back to the city with me.”
It’s a statement, not a question, one that quite literally knocks me off my feet and I drop the glass I was holding, letting it shatter into pieces.
“Excuse me?” I fire back, ignoring the glass shattered around my feet.
“After I left your place, I got to thinking.”
“That’s usually not a good thing.”
This grown man chuckles, and there’s just something I love about the sound. “I’m a big supporter of people who set goals and want to do something big with their life. I called a friend of mine in the city and I got you an interview at one of the restaurants there. If you want it, of course. It’s a five-star restaurant and they are actually looking for some help because they want to add a second location across town by the summer.”
What? That wasn’t where I saw this going.
There’s a part of me that’s shocked but the other part feels like he might have hacked my computer while I looked at the New York City ads last night after he left to see if anyone is hiring anytime soon. I even shot off three emails to see if they would be willing to set me up with a virtual interview in the next couple of weeks so I can start in the summer.
As much as I want the job and the interview he’s offering me, I also can’t afford a place there just yet.
“I can’t do that. I’m not ready,” I finally reply.
“Why do you say that?”
“I have to study more. I have to practice more.” I frantically start wiping down the counters as nerves spike inside of me. Clearly I’m a stress cleaner. “I’m not ready.”
“Practice in the city.”
I stop abruptly and watch his ocean blue eyes bore into mine. “I’m not sure if you noticed or not, but I work a lot here. I live in a small one-bedroom place on someone else's property because I’m broke as a joke, Oliver.”
I hate admitting my financial struggles to someone who looks like he doesn’t have to worry about a thing. I’m sure he picked up on it by now after seeing my place and how much I’m at work. But it stings more admitting it out loud.
I continue, “Plus, how can I find somewhere to stay on such short notice?”
“Short notice? I’m giving you two days' notice,” he jokes. “That’s when I head back to the city.”
“That’s short notice last I checked.”
“Is it?” He smirks.
What’s it like to be so carefree about life? I envy him right now.
“I can’t accept. I appreciate it, but I just can’t.”
“If money is the biggest factor stopping you from chasing what sounds like your life long goal, then stay at my place.” He says it so casually as if we’ve known each other for years. “Besides, I’m heading out of town for two months to backpack Europe.”
“You don’t know me. What if I’m a serial killer?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dramatic. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
“What if you’re the serial killer?”
“I’m not going to lie; I can fuck up some fruity pebbles.”
I ignore that while he laughs at himself as I press on, “What if I’m messy and leave my laundry out everywhere?”
“I saw your place, and you’re not messy.”
“I cook a lot, but I hate cleaning up. What if I leave a mess in the kitchen when you’re home?”
He laughs again, rubbing his hand in a circle over his stomach. “Good, I like to eat. So if you’re cooking, I’ll gladly do the cleaning.”
“God,” I cry out. “You’re impossible.”
“All you have to do is say yes.”
If I wasn’t in the position I’m in, I probably would say yes in a heartbeat. But the list of people I trust is very small, so small I don’t even need all the fingers on one hand to count how many people.
I have one very important person to think about when making decisions now.
I swallow past the lump clogging my throat. “What about Mackenzie?
“What about her?”
“I can’t go to the city without her.”
Oliver takes two steps towards me, closing the distance between us until he’s only inches from me. My body ignites at his proximity and I feel myself gravitate towards him as if he’s going to embrace me in his thick arms.
“You think I’d tell you to come to the city with me and leave your daughter behind?”
I shrug a shoulder before Oliver places both hands on each of them, bending down low enough to where his eyes are level with mine. His breath directly on my face takes over my senses with the strong smell of peppermint.
“Clearly we need to spend more time together because you’ve lost your mind if you think for one second that she isn’t coming with us.”
“Lost my mind? When I told you about her last night you barely said three words about it. No thoughts are equivalent to negative thoughts, Oliver.”
“I was a little shocked.” He grins down at me. “But believe me when I tell you, I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I left. From the few minutes I spent with her, I can tell we’ll get along great.”
“Now you’ve lost your mind. Plus, you’re a hot, single guy.” I wave my hand up and down his body silently saying what I’m thinking about his looks. “You don’t need a little girl in your house.”
He holds up his pointer fingers. “First of all, it’s an apartment.” Then he brings up his middle finger with it. “Second of all, you think I’m hot?”
“That’s not the point I’m making here.”
“Third of all,” he continues, ignoring my comment, and bringing up his thumb to join the other two fingers. “She’s a part of you, which means I like her already.”
I don’t have the words to reply to that.
I don’t have any more argument in me that this is a terrible idea.
I made a promise to myself when the ball dropped, that I would make this our year…the year of opportunities and to finally go after what’s always been mine, to live out the dream and make a better life for us.
Am I really considering his offer right now?
