The Roommate by Kiersten Modglin (best way to read books .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Kiersten Modglin
Read book online «The Roommate by Kiersten Modglin (best way to read books .TXT) 📕». Author - Kiersten Modglin
When Addison saw me through the glass, the fake smile on her face fell away. She opened the door, dressed in bright green spandex pants that she’d pulled over her soft stomach and a thin, gray tank top. Her blonde, natural curls had been pulled away from her face into a ponytail, her face clean and free of makeup.
“What are you doing here, Wes?” My name was a curse word on her lips. Whenever she called me by name, rather than babe or honey, I had either disappointed or royally pissed her off.
I didn’t try to step inside, and she didn’t move out of the way to let me through. Instead, I adjusted in place on my own porch—on a welcome mat I’d picked out.
“Is Rory home? I was hoping I could see her today.”
“Why didn’t you call?” she asked with a sigh and the wrinkle of her button nose. “I could’ve saved you a trip. She’s not here.”
“I didn’t call because you wouldn’t have answered.” I huffed, but I changed my tone back to a hint of pleasantry quickly. “Why isn’t she here?”
“It’s Saturday. She’s out with friends.”
“Which friends?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose as if the question was ridiculous. “Tessa’s parents took them to their beach house in Naples for the weekend.”
“I thought we agreed we didn’t want her hanging around with Tessa.”
“That was Terra. Tessa is the one we like—Doug and Caity’s daughter. Remember? The ones that own the car washes all around town?”
“Right,” I said as I recalled who she was talking about. “Sorry. Yeah. That makes sense.”
“So…” She stepped back just a hair, her hand resting on the wood of the door. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I should get back to…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but simply stared at me as if she’d said enough.
“Actually, yeah. I was hoping I could come in for a second. There are a few things I want to talk to you about.” My chest tightened with anticipation. I couldn’t read her. Was she going to tell me to get lost? Would she open the door and let me inside? Thus far, she’d spent her time telling me that she needed space. We hadn’t carried on a conversation for more than five minutes in the three weeks since I’d left. Er, been kicked out.
She glanced over her shoulder, and a cold thought filled my mind. Did she have company? Was there another man inside my home? I fought the urge to clench my fists.
“Sure,” she said finally, stepping back a half step and allowing me to cross over the threshold. The house smelled the same as it always had; my absence hadn’t changed it. There was the vague hint of the Spring Breeze laundry detergent and fabric softener Addy ordered weekly, the lemon Pledge we used to polish the wood furniture, the peach shampoo she washed her hair with. It was uniquely us, and yet, even without me, it carried on.
They carried on.
“I don’t have a lot of time. I have a few errands to run later this afternoon,” Addy said as she led the way into the kitchen.
I followed closely behind her. “This won’t take much—” As I rounded the corner, my words ended abruptly as I stared at the person on the other side of our oversized island, square in the middle of our kitchen. “Hello, Vivienne. I didn’t realize you were here.”
My mother-in-law, a tall, lean woman with short, gray hair and bright blue eyes, stared across the room at me, her jaw tight. We’d never had the best relationship, but Vivienne had never been cruel. I wondered what she thought of me now. What my wife had told her about where it had all gone wrong.
“Hello, Wesley. I didn’t realize you were either.” The wrinkles around her eyes deepened as she narrowed her gaze at me, lifting the mug of coffee in front of her to her lips with both hands. “Addy didn’t mention she was expecting you.”
“I wasn’t expecting him,” she said, then glanced at me over her shoulder, pulling open the stainless steel door of the refrigerator and grabbing a carton of almond milk. “Mom and I are going shopping together this afternoon.” She popped the lid off of the clear smoothie cup she’d had waiting on the island and added in the milk, turning back toward the refrigerator to grab the mango, pre-chopped pineapple, and a bag of spinach. “So, what can I do for you? Is something wrong?”
“I, um,” my eyes darted between Vivienne and Addy, heat flushing my cheeks, “I wanted to see if you thought I could see Rory this weekend.”
“I’ve already told you she’s with Tessa.” She tossed in the pineapple and mango, tapping her fingernails against the laminate countertop. Vivienne watched the encounter closely, making no move to shield her gaze.
I looked her way, feeling the heat climbing the nape of my neck. “Right, I, um—”
“Mom, do you mind giving us just a minute?” Addy asked, stopping the quiet humming I hadn’t noticed coming from Vivienne’s lips.
She nodded gently and took a step back with her mug of coffee. “Yes, sorry. Don’t mind me. I’ll finish this on the patio.” She moved to the counter and dug through the black purse that rested atop it, producing a plum-colored Kindle and wagging it in the air. “If I don’t see you before you leave, it was good to see you, Wesley.”
“You too,” I said halfheartedly. She left the room, and I listened as her footsteps descended down the hall, and then heard the back door open and shut. When we were left with only silence, I cleared my throat again, picking up the conversation where we’d left off. “I realize she’s with Tessa today, but I’m wondering if we could get some kind of schedule worked out. I mean,
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