The Runaway Roommate by C.S. Mae

Author:C.S. Mae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: workplace korean drama romance multicultural romantic comedy interracial romance

Chapter 12. The Collapse

“Well, I certainly can't blame her. If I'd traveled through time and landed at the feet of a guy that good-looking, I think I'd faint, too.”

“My only argument is, why faint? Why not just fall forward, and into his arms? Hahaha.”

“Your lips could accidentally brush his face!”

“Your hands could fumble for a handhold and run across those amazing warrior biceps.”

“All I have to say is, I really wish I was that close to him right now.”

My eyes were already filling as I hit the stairs running. The hallway in front of me blurred and my thoughts were a jumbled mess. Suddenly, there was David at the foot of them, looking up at me.

When my foot touched the floor, he took my hand, glanced both ways, and ushered me into the guest bathroom. He flipped on the light and the fan and locked the door. I just stood there, shaking, tears brimming over and running down to my chin in mini rivers of pain.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice, to stay under the noise of the fan. “Did he do anything to you?”

I shook my head, still unable to speak. I kept my gulping sobs to a minimum, but it was pretty clear I wasn't going to be calming down any time soon.

All the tension left my body when David pulled me close. It was nice, so very nice, to be held. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been held by a man—probably when Richard and I were still dating. This was better because David's shoulders were more broad and closer to my height, so I could actually rest my head against him. Which I did.

He held me in that awkward brother/relative way, with two stiff arms and that jerky patting of the back that all men seem to think women want when they cry. I didn't care. It was so great of him, and my heart pitter-patted at me, demanding me to realize that I was leaning against his chest and smelling his skin.

When I finally pulled back, David asked me what had happened.

I explained about the paintings and the view and the confusing feelings of loathing and loss all mixed up together. He looked thoughtful.

“Did you ever think that maybe he came here for you?” David asked.

“What? No!” I said, hissing to keep my voice down.

“Think about it. He took a job in your company, working on your game. He threw a party that he knew you'd be obligated to attend, giving him time to see you outside of work. He told you he missed the very paintings that he said he'd hated before. He implied he wanted to show you the view from his room at night. Those seem like pretty obvious signs to me.”

It couldn't be. Richard didn't care about me. Not one bit. He wouldn't have come all the way back from Boston just for me, I thought.

“What if he did, Casey? Would that be something you'd want? Would you want to be with him again?”

I shook my head.

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