Home > The Roommate(70)

The Roommate(70)
Author: Rosie Danan

   Josh shut his eyes and tipped his head back. “Would you stop hiding behind your family? You’re a grown woman, Clara. You’re twenty-seven years old, for crying out loud. Who cares if your mom gets mad?”

   “I care.” Did he really not see how much this hurt her? How she could barely stand upright long enough to discuss it? “I like making my mother proud. It might be easy for you to write off what everyone else thinks about you, but I’m not like that.”

   All the heat went out of him. “I never stood a chance, did I?”

   Clara was thrown by the dramatic shift in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

   “Why did you sleep with me?” His voice sounded unnaturally thin.

   Her gaze sank to his lips and she hesitated. “I don’t know.”

   “Yes, you do. Come on. You did it. At least own up to it.” His eyes burned straight through her skin.

   She felt like prey being lured into a honey-sweet trap. “I wanted to. I’m attracted to you. Is that what you want to hear?”

   “So it was just sex?” He kept his tone light enough to discuss the weather.

   Clara buried the truth in her belly. “Yes.” Just the best sex she’d ever had. Just sex that had turned her whole belief system upside down.

   “But you don’t have casual sex,” he said. “You told me that the first night I touched you.”

   Clara shivered. How foolish she’d been to trust that she could separate body and mind. Hadn’t she known then that falling for this man would ruin her? “Our situation was different. We both knew that it could never go any further between us.” The sentiment was true. The knowledge hadn’t protected her.

   Josh’s mouth curled. “Did we ever discuss that? Because I don’t remember having that conversation with you. You know what I think?” He lowered his voice. “You’re not really upset over losing your job or about ending Toni Granger’s campaign. You’re terrified that someone might find out what you’re really ashamed of in this situation.”

   Clara shook her head in anticipation of an accusation she knew part of her deserved.

   Josh leaned toward her until she could count his eyelashes. “The Greenwich in you is wondering if I’m lying right now. I know you can’t help but ask yourself, what if I told the reporters your name? Or worse, what if I stuck my tongue behind my teeth and described the way you taste on the record.”

   For the first time, Josh’s sex appeal made her feel cheap instead of cherished. He was a master, and his powers could destroy as well as delight.

   “You said it yourself, you want to make your mother proud, and the last thing she would want is to hear about her baby girl fucking a porn star.”

   Clara lifted her chin. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of shocking her. “I never should have slept with you.”

   “Oh, now. Don’t be like that.” Josh’s face had turned into a hard mask. “We both know why you did it. So that years from now, when your rich, red-faced husband climbs on top of you under the covers, you can close your eyes and remember writhing on my cock.”

   Clara gasped as his insult connected. Josh had impeccable aim.

   “What is wrong with you?” She didn’t know this man. He wasn’t the one who’d bought her groceries and let her drive his car. He hadn’t climbed into her hospital bed or kissed her like she was the last woman on earth.

   “I thought it was obvious.” Josh let out a bitter laugh. “I’m in love with you.” He made the confession like a man on death row. Like it didn’t matter because tomorrow would never come.

   Clara froze. She’d imagined this moment in spells of weakness, but never like this. The words that should have meant everything felt meaningless.

   “What part of this is love?” Her fragile words rang out in the kitchen. Her pain made the question vibrate in the air. “I bet you’ve never stopped to consider the realities of a romantic relationship between us. Well, I have. And the first thing I realized is that if we’re together, Josh, then someone has to lose. Either my family or your career. Two things we love. Two things we’ve built our lives on. Two pieces of us that will never fit together.”

   “I can’t believe you’re disqualifying me out of hand. Don’t I get a chance to plead my case?” He sounded wounded, but more than that he sounded like a man whose past has caught up with him. A man who always knew that he couldn’t win and wished now that he’d never tried.

   “Josh, I’m not an idiot. I spend hours a day surrounded by your former lovers. I’ve seen your five-star videos. Even if you didn’t go back to performing when your contract expires next year, you’d get bored with me in two weeks, a month tops. I could never compete.”

   “I can’t believe this. Listen to yourself. You’ve already made up your mind. You’re jumping to conclusions about things that may or may not happen a year from now when we haven’t even gotten a chance to learn how to live together as more than roommates. You wanna be right more than you wanna be happy,” Josh said, like a soothsayer.

   Clara’s eyes burned. “I need to get out of here.” He’d once accused her of not living in the real world, but now he was the one painting a fantasy he couldn’t fulfill.

   “Wait.” Josh’s voice sounded far away, like she’d sunk to the bottom of the ocean while he stayed on the surface. “Don’t run.” He reached for her hand and she saw the fear in his eyes.

   She tucked her arms behind her back. “I don’t belong here.” Clara tilted her head back so the tears would pool in her eyes. “There’s nothing left for me in this house.”

   For the second time that summer, she packed her bags.

 

 

chapter thirty-four

 


   IT HAD BEEN a while since Josh had driven down the highway, hating his life, but he fell into the old habit with ease. After Clara left, he couldn’t stay in the house. Every room pulsed with memories and phantom promises of what might have happened if he hadn’t inadvertently harmed the woman he loved.

   He’d grabbed his keys and jumped in his car without a plan. Without a destination. Without realizing that driving now reminded him, as strongly as any room he’d left behind, of the person he was trying to escape.

   Everything hurt. Never before had he registered that eyelids could ache. He couldn’t stop seeing Clara recoil when he’d fed her those lies about her future without him. When he’d spit the same vile stereotypes that Bennie had used on him back in her face. It didn’t matter how much her rejection stung. Lashing out like a wounded animal wasn’t acceptable.

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