Constructing Us (New Adult Romance) (7 page)

Andy blinked awake, confused. 

It was morning.

She wasn’t in her room.

And she was lying against Tragan with her cheek pressed into his shoulder. 

Panicked, she nearly jumped off him.  Then thought better of it, because she didn’t want him to wake and realize she’d been laying her hand on his chest, even curling her fingers into his tee shirt.  Falling asleep aga
inst him was one thing.  Snuggling up to him and practically
clutching
him was another. 

Beams of sunlight
from the kitchen window shone into the living room in two fat stripes.  The television was still on, but the game was idling on the home screen.  Even as Andy extricated her body from Tragan’s, the feel of his strong, solid body lingered in her mind, as did the clean, masculine scent of him, which she’d spent the last several hours breathing in (and sleeping blissfully--coincidence?). 

Now
Tragan began to stir.  Abruptly, Andy sat up straighter.  As he woke up, he turned his face toward hers, blinking a few times.  “Hey…” he rasped.

“We fell asleep here last night,” she explained
quickly--and quite unnecessarily. 

“Yeah…I remember now…” Tragan added vaguely.  Then
leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees as he shoved his fingers into his short dark hair.  When he rolled his shoulders in a stretch, it drew Andy’s attention to the muscled strength of his back. 

She inhaled sharply, slightly annoyed with herself.  If she allowed herself to dwell on the rough-around-the-edges sex appeal of her roommate, where would that get her? 
So she hopped up from the couch and pushed her hair away from her face, figuring it must be a tangled mess. 

“I need coffee,” Tragan mumbled, his
voice still thick from sleep.  Come to think of it, she’d never seen him first thing in the morning; for some reason the moment felt almost intimate.

“Me, too,” she agreed.  “I’ll go make some.”

“No, let’s go out.”

She turned back to find him looking at her, rising from the couch.
  His jaw was unshaven, his hair was messy, and his dark gaze was intense. 

“Go out?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he told her.  “There’s a breakfast place just down our street.  Let’s grab coffee and breakfast there.”

“Um…okay,” she replied
with a hesitant nod.  “I guess so.”

If he sensed her awkwardness he didn’t let on.  He just said, “Cool.  I’m gonna change, I’ll meet you over there in five minutes,” he finished pointing toward the front door.

Once she’d brushed her teeth, run a brush through her hair, jumped into jeans and a sweater, she met Tragan, who was waiting for her.  He pulled the door open for her; they jogged down the stairs in silence, neither mentioning anything about the night before. 

This is ridiculous, Andy thought.  Nothing even happened, what’s there to mention?
  Why did she feel guilty or something as if this was a date?  It was a casual impromptu breakfast with her roommate, not a big deal. 

Finally when they stepped outsid
e, Tragan broke the silence by mentioning, “I have to work later.  Sucks.”

She looked up at him as they walked. 
“But it’s Saturday.”

“I know, but we have a new client who asked that we come in this afternoon to get started.  Weekends are better for his wife, I guess.” 

“What’s the job?”

“We’re building an addition on
a house in South Boston.”

“Do you like your job?” she asked curiously.

Tragan nodded.  “For the most part.  Obviously it’s very physical, but I’m used to it.  I kind of fell into it, though.  I was taking classes at community college a few years ago when I started working part-time for my friend’s dad.  Matt--you met him--his dad owns a construction company. My plan was to get my associate’s degree, but then there were more and more projects I got put on, and the money was really good.”

“So you never finished
school?”

An unmistakable cloud of reg
ret passed over Tragan’s face.  He shook his head.  “Nah.  I screwed up.  But at the time I didn’t see the big picture.  Like I said, the money was really good and I got sucked in by that.  Here we are,” he said, motioning to the awning above their heads with the cheery red logo that read:
Carl’s Kitchen
. 

I
mmediately, Tragan grabbed the door handle.  “You know, it’s not too late to finish,” Andy pointed out gently, walking through first as Tragan held the door open for her.  “Just saying.  If it’s a regret, that’s an easy one to fix.”

He nodded
right away.  “Yeah, it’s something I’ve been thinking about.  Don’t get me wrong, I like my job pretty much.  But I hate that if I wanted to do something else, I really couldn’t do much without a degree.  Let’s sit here,” he said, pointing to a table by the window. 

“This place is cute,” Andy remarked, noticing the
quaint wooden tables, the pin-striped wallpaper, and the flourish of leafy green plants everywhere.  “I’ve never been here before.”

Tragan remained standing.  “
What do you want?  I’ll get it.” 

“Um…”  After she read the menu board, she told him, “Breakfast sandwich #2
and a large coffee.”  At that, Tragan’s mouth crooked into a smile.  “What?”

“Nothing, just that that’s exactly what I was getting, too
.” 

When they were seated together with steaming coffee in front of them, he said, “Hey, Andy?  C
an I ask you a question?  Stop me if it’s too personal.”

“
Okay.” 

“How--”

“
Stop
.”  Tragan eyed her askance.  “Just practicing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What is it?” she said, biting into her sandwich, grateful to have her appetite today and be able to savor a fresh hot croissant with bacon, egg and cheese and rich, dark coffee.  Food was really such a gift; she hated when her body rejected it in a way, telling her that nothing held appeal, when she knew that wasn’t true.

Now Tragan asked his question. 
It
was
personal and she wasn’t quite prepared for it.

“H
ow come you never stay over at Brad’s place?”

Andy
hesitated.  Was she going to tell him the truth? That she sometimes had bad anxiety, which kept her up, and that Brad wasn’t able to make her feel better when it happened?  It honestly wasn’t his fault.  He was a doctor and he needed his sleep.  She couldn’t bring herself to trouble him with all her fears and worries in the middle of the night.  Not to mention, he might not even be there.  As a resident, Brad seemed to spend more time in the hospital than out of it.  If he was on call, Andy would likely end up in his sleek, coldly decorated high-rise apartment, alone and awake. 

The final
deterrent of course was their stalled sex life, which was all her fault and also a confusing mess.  Obviously Brad was a great looking guy; not only was he handsome, but he was committed to the gym so he had a fit, chiseled body.  Who in their right mind wouldn’t feel attracted and in the mood?  Brad seemed to think it was just the Bronsteg messing with her sex drive--and all the more reason for her to continue the drug trial, he’d pointed out.  While Andy suspected the Bronsteg, too, she secretly feared that it was only half the story.  That maybe Brad wasn’t really the right guy for her.  Yet did she even know what that meant?

She couldn’t exactly say all that to Tragan.  He’s asked a casual question, and dumping all that on him seemed too heavy. 
Instead, she replied glibly, “How do you know I don’t?”

“
I…”  He seemed at a loss for the correct answer.

“
Just because my bedroom door is closed doesn’t always mean I’m home,” she pointed out.  “How do you know I don’t spend the night at Brad’s, and then when he gets up to go to the gym at five in the morning, he drops me back off at home, and you’re still asleep?”

“
You’re right.  I guess I didn’t think of that,” Tragan admitted, twisting his cup restlessly on the table. Andy thought a quick look passed over his face, one of maybe disappointment?  Had he been looking for a different answer?

“I’m teasing you,” she told him
with a smile.  “You were right the first time.  I haven’t stayed over Brad’s.”

“
Ever?
” Tragan blurted.  “I mean, not that it matters…”

“No, no,”
Andy stammered, “I didn’t mean
never
--but just not in a long time.”

Tragan paused for a moment. 
“How come?”

She was kind of surprised at ho
w he was pressing her on this.  “Um…I don’t know,” she lied.  Then offered a shrug.  “It’s just not fun over there.” 

With that, she pu
t her sandwich to her mouth.  He sensed she was done talking about this.  As Tragan sat across from her, watching her eat her breakfast sandwich--in that neat, girlish way that females had--he just couldn’t make sense of her answer.  There was obviously something she wasn’t saying.  Why wouldn’t it be “fun” if you were into someone?  And wouldn’t Brad make any adjustments he had to so that his girl would
want
to stay with him every night--especially if his girl was Andy?

T
o Tragan’s knowledge, Brad hadn’t stayed over their place, either.  Why not?  Didn’t he crave sleeping next to Andy, of rolling over onto her side of the bed…wait, forget that train of thought.  Tragan really didn’t want to picture Brad in Andy’s bed, or any other guy rubbing up on her, for that matter. 

For now, he let the subject drop.  B
ecause he had to--because technically it was none of his damn business.  Still…

T
here was something wrong in this whole thing with Brad.  Something off.  Was she into him or not?  And if not…why were they still together? 

What kind of hold did “Dr. Brad Trewell” as he insisted on introducing himself, have over Andy?

“Oh, d
amn,” Tragan muttered to himself as he walked into the kitchen the following evening.

“What
’s wrong?” Andy asked, emerging from the alcove in the corner that housed the washer and dryer.  She was carrying a dainty-looking circular basket stacked with white clothes, already folded.  The sight reminded Tragan that it was past time to do his own laundry, which had been gathering in two piles, one on his bedroom floor and one on the floor beside the dryer. 

“It’s my parents,” he explained now, glancing at his phone before shoving it in his pocket.  “They just called.  They’re outside and want to come up.”

“Oh.  What, you weren’t expecting them?”

“
No, apparently they spent the day in the city and just decided to stop by.  They live in Rockland,” he mentioned, referring to a town about half an hour outside of Boston.  “I guess I haven’t been to visit in a few weeks.”

“
Oh, they missed you.”

He blew out a sigh.  “Yeah, but I don’t know what to do with them.
So I’m just gonna take them to TJ’s down the street.”

“That cramped little deli?” Andy said, grimacing.  “Wouldn’t they rather relax here?”

“Well, if it’s so great here, why don’t you stay and hang out with them, too?”

“I don’t even know them!”

“Like I
do
?”

She slanted her pretty blue eyes at him.  “That doesn’t even make
sense.”  He had to grin at that.  “But I respect your tactics.  Fine, I’ll hang out.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure, why not?  I like people--unlike you.  Oh, if they’re hungry, we’ll put the Spanakopita out.”

“What’s that?”

“A Greek version of spinach pie, basically.  I got the recipe from one of my cookbooks.  Anyway, it should be done by now,” she said, crossing to the stove and bending over to peek in the oven. 

Naturally
he dropped a glance to her ass.  When she turned back around, he said, “Andy, really?  You’ll stay?  I mean--you know, for their sake--to keep the conversation going?”

“If you want me to.”
  Just then they heard the knock on the door.  “Oh, you know what?  You get that.  I just remembered that I prepped garlic bread this morning; it’s in the fridge.  I’ll put it in the broiler and be out.  Deal?”

“
Deal.  You had me at Spana-something.”

~

“Tray, it smells wonderful in here!” Mari Barrett said as she stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around her son.  “Are you
cooking
?”  When she pulled back, her dark eyes glistened.  “We missed you,” she added, touching a hand to Tragan’s roughened cheek. 

“Son,”
Jack Barrett said, coming up behind Mari, who stepped aside so they could say hello.  Jack reached for a strong handshake, clapping Tragan’s bicep heartily with his other hand.  “Good to see you.” 

“You, too,” Tragan told them, mea
ning it.  It had only been a couple weeks since he’d seen them, and though he hadn’t given it much thought, now that they were here, his parents were inevitably a comforting sight.  His mom was short and pillowy, with black hair and dimples in her cheeks.  She was definitely the more dominant personality of the two--whereas Tragan’s dad, Jack, was quieter, more reserved, and despite being retired, still looked the part of the big, robust Irish fisherman.

“Is it my imagination,”
Jack added as they walked into the living room, “or is this place a lot neater than the last time I was here?”  Before Tragan could respond, Andy emerged from the kitchen and began walking toward them.  “Oh--we didn’t realize you had a new girlfriend,” Jack nearly whispered, exchanging a surprised expression with his wife.

“Girlfriend?” Mari said, intrigued,
when Tragan interrupted.

“No, no, this is my roommate,”
he told them, as Andy joined the group and gave a small, friendly wave. 

“Hi, I’m Andy.  Just the roommate,” she threw in lightly. 

“Yeah, see, Ethan bailed on the lease out of nowhere and--” Tragan began, when Andy politely interjected.

“He got accepted into a graduate program in
England so he had to go,” she explained.  “We’ve been friends for years, so he asked me if I wanted to take over the lease for him.  That way Tragan wouldn’t be stranded, and I was looking for an apartment anyway.”

“Oh,” Mari said, nodding almost vigorously, “well, then that worked out.  Tragan, why didn’t you tell us all this?”

“It just happened…pretty much.”

“
Are you hungry, by chance?” Andy asked Jack and Mari. 

“Starving,”
Jack admitted.

“But I’m too tired to go to a restaurant,” Mari said
, looking pointedly at her husband as though they’d been through this discussion already.  “We’ll just wait till we get home.”

“No, please,
eat with us.  I was about to put out Spanakopita.”

“Everything Andy makes is awesome,” Tragan said truthfully.  She smiled at him.

“Mmm, is that what that smell is?” Jack asked, sniffing the air.

“
Great, have some,” Andy insisted.  “There’s a ton.  I’m just going to set the table--”

Politely,
Mari demurred.  “No, really.  Thanks so much--it smells delicious--but we couldn’t take your food,” she said, making it clear this was a matter of principle, and not a bias against spinach pie.

“Why not?” Tragan said.  “I take her food all the time.”

At that, Mari shot her son a disapproving glance.  Then remarked: “Andy, I hope Tragan is being easy to live with.”

With a wave of her hand, she assured her,
“He’s fine.  Come on…”

Ultimately
Jack, Mari, and Tragan followed Andy’s lead to the kitchen, and ten minutes later, they were all seated around the table with filled plates and glasses, and a fragrant basket of garlic bread as their centerpiece.

“So, Andy, what do you do?”
Jack asked casually as he passed the bread to his wife. 

“Well, right now I’m in transition,” Andy admitted.  “I just graduated from college in Decem
ber.  And at the moment, I’m actually participating in a drug study at St. Catherine’s.  That should end in another six weeks.  After that, I’ll be able to really focus on a career.”

Instead of asking her what her major was or what her career might be, Tragan’s mom was stuck on the first part of what Andy said.  “Drug study?” she
echoed cautiously.  “That sounds dangerous, no?”

“
Um, not this one.  My…” She hesitated for a second.  “…friend is a doctor at St. Catherine’s and he’s actually the one who convinced me to participate.” 

That set
Tragan’s attention on high-alert.  She had to mean Brad, didn’t she?  But then why call him a “friend” instead of her boyfriend?

“You must trust him,” Mari
replied.  “Andy, this is
wonderful
,” she enthused after a bite of Spanakopita.  “So much flavor!”

“
Excellent,” Jack agreed.

As
Andy thanked them for the compliments, she explained about cooking being a recent hobby of hers.  “What else do you enjoy?” Mari asked conversationally.

“
Reading,” Tragan said just as Andy said, “Playing piano.”  That stopped Tragan short.  “I didn’t know you played piano.”

She nodded.  “My mom has one at her house.  So I’ve played it
off and on for years.  Though Tragan was right about the reading, too.  I’m a total book junkie.”

“I love to read, too!
” Mari said cheerfully and reached over to get her bag off the counter.  “I always carry a book in my purse in case we’re stuck in traffic.  This is the one I’m reading now.”  She pulled out a slightly dog-eared copy of something called,
Seducing the Billionaire Earl’s Pregnant Bride.

Tragan cringed when he saw the title
and the half-naked man on the cover.  “Jeez, Ma…”

Of course
Andy was much more supportive.  “Is it good?” she asked, as she flipped the paperback over and skimmed the back.

“Yes, it
is
pretty good.  Very passionate,” Mari assured her.

“Oh, brother…
” Tragan muttered.

Andy shot him
a grin, then asked his parents, “So what was Tragan like growing up?”

“Tragan was very independent--strong,” Mari said.  “
And no matter what friends he had, Tray always seemed to be the leader.”

“
That’s true,” Jack said.

“
Hmm, I can picture that,” Andy said.

“By the way, Andy,
does your family live around here?” Mari asked.

“Yes, my
mom lives nearby and so does my older sister, Emma, with her two sons.  Her husband died a few years ago,” Andy volunteered with a sad dip in her voice, before resuming, “And my dad actually lives in Switzerland.”

“
Switzerland, really?” Jack said, surprised. 

“
See, my parents got divorced when I was in high school and my father moved over there for his job not long after.  He’s an investment banker and he works out of the Zurich office.”

Tragan could see by his parents’ expressions that they didn’t know quite what to say to that
.  A sound intruded upon the conversation anyway.  And a fucking irritating one at that.  Brad’s distinct ring tone, which Tragan recognized by now. 

“Oh, will you excuse me?” Andy said, rising from her chair.  “That’s my phone.
”  As she hurried to get Brad’s call, Tragan swallowed down his jealousy. 

He felt almost elated when Andy returned less than ten minutes later.

After another hour, his parents said their goodbyes, insisting they were too tired to go anywhere for coffee and dessert.  When Andy disappeared into the kitchen, Tragan walked them to the door. Mari said, “We’re so glad we stopped by.  We missed you!”

“Missed you guys, too.  I would’ve come by next week or so.”

She reached up and encircled him in a tight hug.  When she pulled back, she spoke more softly.  “Wait, before we go…what’s the story with you and Andy?”

Jack ch
imed in, “She’s a good girl.  You should hold onto that one.”

Quickly, Tragan correct them.  “There’s no story there. 
Andy and I are just friends.”

“But--”

“She already has a boyfriend,” he stated bluntly.

Too bluntly apparently, because his mother suddenly looked crestfallen.  “Oh, no…she
does
?  I just assumed--I mean, it seemed like maybe she was hoping to impress us a little.  Why would a girl want to spend her evening with a boy’s parents unless she liked the boy?”

Even thou
gh Tragan acted unaffected by his mom’s words, they lingered in his mind.  Still, he insisted, “There’s nothing going on between us.”

Next Jack spoke up--again, surprising him, as Tragan’s dad was not one to bu
tt into his love life.  “Listen, don’t let a boyfriend stand in your way.”

At that, Mari tugged on her husband’s sleeve to get his attention. “Wait, Jack, w
hat are you telling him?”

“Just that boyfriends come and go.  All’s
fair game till the wedding bands go on.  That’s my belief.”

“You know…
you have a point,” Tragan’s mom said thoughtfully, her hope suddenly renewed.  “Tragan--your father has a point!”

“All right,
enough,” Tragan whispered, “she’s gonna hear you.”  He leaned down to give his mom one last hug.  When he shook his dad’s hand, Jack pulled him in for a quick hug, as well.  “Be good, son,” Jack remarked generically on his way out.

Good.  Right.  When it came to Andy, “good” was the last thing he felt like being.