10
" So it seems like your biggest expenses fall in this miscellaneous category. Part of setting a budget is figuring out how much you should be spending and then discipline yourself to stay under that amount. You should also be looking at monthly expenditures that maybe are unnecessary. Like . . .” He scrolled down a bit and said, “Do you really need Netflix?”
That was like asking me if I needed my firstborn child. “Uh, yes. I need it. That’s nonnegotiable. If for no other reason than it allows me to consume television the same way I do ice cream and alcohol.”
He laughed and said, “Okay, okay. You win. Netflix stays. What about this expense for Sephora? A hundred and thirty-two dollars?”
While I’d had to downgrade my hair dye, makeup, cleanser, and toner, I was not willing to give this up. “That’s for my moisturizer.”
He blinked at me a couple of times, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. “You paid a hundred and thirty-two dollars for lotion for your face?”
“It’s not lotion. It’s moisturizer.”
“For one bottle? What’s in it? Dragon’s blood and the scraping of a unicorn’s horn?”
I wasn’t about to tell him it wasn’t for a whole bottle, but for like two ounces. “Ha-ha. I need it. My face needs it.”
“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful.”
“It’s why I’m beautiful!” I was caught between sheer delight and disbelief at his words, and partial terror that he was going to make me stop using it. But then I started thinking about the way he’d complimented me—he’d said it so matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t his personal opinion, just a truth he happened to agree with.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
While I was trying to figure out his deeper meaning, he chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, you’re easily the hottest girl in this apartment.”
If I thought I’d been thrilled before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. A flush started at the top of my scalp and went down to my toes—unpainted because I couldn’t afford to get a pedicure. Then I realized that Tyler was quoting back to me what I’d said about him at the charity event. Did that mean . . . it was a joke? A callback and he didn’t really mean anything by it? Or was he trying to butter me up so that he could pry my moisturizer out of my cold, soon-to-be dehydrated hands?
Not willing to be taken in, I said, “You’re not going to flatter me to get me to change my mind. I’ll remind you that I’m the only girl in this apartment.”
“That’s not true. Pidge is here and she’s gorgeous. Aren’t you?” he asked his dog, bending over to pet her. She licked his cheek and I had never felt more of a kinship to her, ever. He turned his attention back to me. “Do you really need it?”
“The only time I get a facial now is when I open the dishwasher midcycle and the steam hits me in my face. I don’t buy the moisturizer every month. I’m really careful with how much I use on a daily basis. But I’ve had to give up so many other things. Let me have this one.”
“All right, all right. "
― Sariah Wilson , Roommaid
16
" Yes.” Then his lips were against mine, softly, sweetly, a featherlight touch. The kind of kiss you imagine when you’re a tween dreaming about your first kiss. He’d obviously intended for it to be sweet and gentle. Which meant that it should have made me feel dreamy and nostalgic and swoony. It did none of those things. From the moment his lips touched mine, it was like someone had plugged my mouth into an electrical socket. A surge zipped through me, giving me goose bumps and heating my blood. It lasted for only a few seconds but it almost zapped my ability to hold myself upright. He pulled back slightly, still within kissing range. I felt his warm breath against my face and it took all my restraint not to press my mouth against his and keep this going. Which he may not have wanted. I swallowed, trying to figure out what to do next. I settled on finding out what he’d thought of our experiment. “How,” I started to speak, surprised at the breathy quality to my voice. “How was that?” His lips pulled up into a smile. “I think I need more data before I can draw any conclusions.” Again, perfectly sound logic. I nodded, feeling as if I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I noticed that he was looking at my lips. As if he’d only had a fleeting impression and now needed to do a more thorough investigation. The look in his intense blue eyes made the air around me feel charged with energy, like lightning could strike us both then and there. That feeling didn’t lessen when he pressed his lips against mine again, this time kissing me. Not just a peck, but moving his mouth against mine with a gentle firmness that left me weak and shivering. He made the nerve endings in my lips explode from sheer pleasure. Now both of his hands were on the side of my face, guiding my head this way and that as he kissed me over and over again. Some "
― Sariah Wilson , Roommaid
20
" Have you always had a dog?” I asked. I so wanted to know everything about him.
“No, Pigeon’s my first pet.”
“And you didn’t consider getting any other kind? Like a cat?”
“A cat?” he scoffed. “Never. I’m not bringing home some sociopath intent on luring you into a false sense of security before they eat your face.”
That made me laugh. “Some cats are nice and affectionate.” Not that I had any firsthand knowledge, but it had to be true.
“Decoys. They’ve never forgotten that they used to be worshipped as gods. You’ll never see dogs planning on destroying humankind. Which is one of the reasons I adopted Pigeon.”
“She won’t eat your face?”
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure she’s not plotting my demise. And it’s nice to love somebody who doesn’t want anything in return.”
Whoa, that sounded deep and like an area that was obviously none of my business but I still wanted to ask too many questions about.
Before I could figure out what to say in response, he said, “While we’re on the topic of animals and their devious plans, something you should definitely know about Pidge is that she loves shoes. And by love, I mean she chews them into tiny pieces until they no longer resemble shoes. So you always want to keep your closet door shut.”
“Got it. She won’t come for my face, but she will for my shoes.” Pigeon and I were going to have issues if she chewed up my shoes. I’d been forced to sell off most of my bags and footwear. The shoes I had now were very inexpensive and I wasn’t emotionally attached to them, but I didn’t have enough money to buy more cheap shoes. "
― Sariah Wilson , Roommaid
