Roommaid

by Sariah Wilson

In the living room he had an eclectic mix of books. Some of them were about finance and looked like they were old college textbooks. Others looked like they were about computers and programming. But most of his books were spy novels. And they looked worn, as if he’d read them often. I loved that.

His smile was instant, flirtatious, and overwhelming. “Did you just say I was the hottest guy here?” I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a migraine. He knew how he looked. “Take the compliment and say thank you.”

I tried not to gasp. I’d chanted her name and had accidentally summoned her.

And it smelled delicious. I decided to have a bowl and it was amazing and I wanted to curse her name for being so good at everything, but I held back just in case I made her appear again.

“Speaking of desperate, have you told Brad to leave you alone and stop texting you? He gives love a Brad name.”

I noticed that he had such strong, nicely formed forearms. I sighed. I was truly pathetic.

And there were so many things I liked about him. His devotion to his dog, his kindness, his charm, his sense of humor, his intelligence, his thoughtfulness, the way he made everyday things seem like adventures. And then there was that thing where he was in possession of a face that would make an angel hurl herself from heaven just for the chance to be with him. None of which I could say. “I like that your name can’t be turned into a pun.”

“Do you have a signature color?” No, because I wasn’t a crazy person. “I don’t. I like wearing dark green and purple because my eyes are hazel and when I wear those shades, they look more green than brown.”

You’re just Madison to me. My Madison.”