Page 12 of Trust Me

“You’re offering someone a room but haven’t thought about it?”

He shrugged as if it really didn’t matter. I wanted to call him crazy. That, or simply walk out.

“What if you moved someone in here and hated them?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I don’t know.” Leaning back against the counter in the kitchen, he tilted his head, staring past me as he thought about something. “Really, I actually don’t know. Brooks sent a text, I have a room that I don’t use, and you need a room. If things ended up being shit, I’d deal with it, I guess.”

“How fucking simple has your life been that you don’t have a care in the world?”

His jaw ticked, which was the first real emotion other than nonchalance or humor that I’d seen from him. Shaking my head, I put my hand on the knob and turned it, but I hesitated.

“Thanks for the offer. Sorry if I came off as a dick.”

I slipped out the door, then put my hands on the railing next to the stairs. There were yellow flowers in the courtyard, which reminded me of my mom’s scrubs. It was random, but it made me want to call her. Even though it wasn’t my fault and I didn’t come here thinking I’d actually rent the room, I felt like a failure. I was only twenty, and I was a college student away from home, so I couldn’t really expect myself to have everything together right now, but it felt like I should be doing something more. Without football, I had too much time on my hands and not enough to show for it.

“I wanted a studio,” a voice said from behind me.

With a sigh, I turned and looked at him. “Then, get a studio.”

The corner of Oliver’s mouth lifted. “I tried. It was what I applied for, but the person decided not to move, so the manager offered me this. I’ve been wanting to transfer, but no studios have come available, so here I am.”

“Why not just use the room?”

“I don’t really want to explain, but you said you don’t understand me, so I’ll put it to you this way. My friend keeps a gun in his nightstand drawer so that he can respond if there’s a threat—a burglar or what have you. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not everyone responds to threats with violence, but that’s not to say they aren’t on alert and prepared for the unexpected.”

“That’s sort of ominous,” I admitted. “So, when I said you don’t have a care in the world, I was extremely wrong.”

He smiled politely. “I’m not comfortable because life has been simple. I’m comfortable because I’ve created a space where I can be that way. Regardless of why I sleep in the living room, I like it, which leaves the bedroom open if you want it. Up to you.”

He shrugged, once again looking calm and collected. I had no idea what to make of anything that had happened since I got here. It was possible I was even more at a loss, but it didn’t really matter. All I had to do was decide if I wanted the room. I wouldn’t be interacting with Oliver except in passing, and it didn’t matter if I found him kind of uncomfortable to be around. We’d be roommates, just like any others. The only difference was that he’d sleep in the living room.

“How much is it?” I asked.

“Hmm. I haven’t thought about that either. Maybe . . . five hundred?”

My eyes widened. “That’s it? Is that half?”

“Nah, but I’m cool with it.”

It was hard not to jump on the idea. Five hundred in this city, this close to campus, was an insane deal.

“Is it cool if I think about it?” I ventured. I need to see if it’s too late to get out of my dorm anyway.”

“For sure. You have my number.”

“Yeah, now that I know it belongs to you. I’m sure Brooks thinks he’s hilarious.”

“He is, though.”

I couldn’t help but scowl. “Well, you didn’t find him in bed with your girlfriend.”

His mouth opened, but no sound came out. I turned and walked down the stairs, still feeling super conflicted about the whole thing. The first step was to see if I would even be able to move. Then, I could start going over the pros and cons.

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