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