The second excited one was, Tyler’s home!

Not knowing how much time I had, I rubbed the pan with oil and put it on the stove, heating it up until the oil soaked in. I found myself holding my breath, hoping he didn’t catch me before I finished. I willed it to hurry up.

There was another loud sound, more like a crash. As if something heavy had fallen over.

“Tyler?” I called out. I waited a beat or two, no response.

Pigeon whimpered next to me.

Okay, now I was worried. This seemed strange. I called Tyler’s name again. Still nothing.

What if we were being robbed? The likelihood seemed small, with Gerald downstairs. I went down the hall to Tyler’s room, knocking on his door.

No answer.

What if he had fallen and hit his head? What if he was in dire need of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and I was just standing on this side of the door like an idiot? I knocked, again saying his name. I tried the doorknob. It wasn’t locked.

“Tyler?” I pushed the door open slowly.

The first thing I noticed was that there was an incredibly beautiful woman with thick black hair lying on his bed, studying a bridal magazine like it was a textbook.

The second thing I noticed was that she was wearing lingerie so revealing that I wondered if she’d accidentally mistaken Tyler’s bedroom for her OB-GYN’s office.

I realized why Shay wasn’t Tyler’s type. Because his type was an exotic model–looking creature who didn’t resemble real human women in the least.

She wore earbuds, which explained why she hadn’t heard me earlier. She was in the process of removing one while I said, “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt your . . . whatever this was.”

I quickly closed his door and ran for the safety of my room. That would teach me to go into his bedroom without an invitation. I cursed the part of my brain that lit up at the words invitation and bedroom. I reminded myself I’d just gotten an eyeful of a half-naked woman who was living proof that nothing would ever happen between Tyler and me.

My door opened behind me and my heart jumped into my throat. It was the Other Woman, wearing one of Tyler’s dress shirts and looking like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. She seemed to be about the same height as me, until I saw that she was wearing heels. She had high cheekbones and large, dark eyes. Perfect bee-stung lips.

While I’d always been confident in my appearance, I suddenly felt like the dowdy, ugly stepsister.

“You are the roommate?” she asked. Her low, husky voice surprised me. Her Russian-sounding accent was thick.

“Yes. Hi. I’m Madison. Sorry for busting in on you like that, but I heard a noise and . . . anyway. Hi. Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand.

She stared at my hand with contempt and I wasn’t sure if I’d done something to offend her. Other than bursting in on her in what we were agreeing to call underwear.

“I am Oksana. From what Tyler said I thought you would be . . . attractive.” She dismissed my entire presence with a single glance. “I see that I have no reason to worry.”

My mouth was wide open and I could only gape at her in response. I lowered my hand. Had that really just happened? Had she come into my room to call me ugly and say I wasn’t a threat?

“Where is Tyler?” she asked, now bored with me and my inability to challenge her.

“I don’t know.” Which was true. I didn’t know where he was at that particular moment in time. New York, the airport, on his way home. Too bad he wasn’t here, protecting me from his she-devil of a girlfriend.

“You will tell him I was here.” She gracefully turned and walked away. I heard his bedroom door close.

I could only imagine writing that Post-it note. Did our current roommate relationship extend to me informing him that mostly naked women lounged in his bed while he was away? Clearly, this was none of my business, and if she wanted him to know she was here, she could leave her own note.

I turned to Pigeon, like she might have some answers for me. But she was hiding under my bed and I understood the inclination. I kind of wanted to hide, too.

But I had chores to do. Mean Russian supermodels could show themselves out. I went into the kitchen and got the broom and dustpan from the pantry. I started attacking the corners like they were at fault.

Why would Tyler date someone like that? He seemed so nice. Maybe I had misjudged him.

I heard her heels and looked up to see her strut past the kitchen, like the hall was her own personal catwalk.

Just to be obnoxious I called out, “Bye, Oksana!”

She didn’t respond and walked out.

I went back to my sweeping and tried to empty my brain out and forget the last five minutes had ever happened.

In large part because of how jealous I was currently feeling.

I finished the chores, watched an hour of TV while eating the spaghetti I’d made for myself, and then graded some tests. Feeling exhausted, I decided to turn in early.

As I got ready for bed, for reasons I didn’t quite understand, Pigeon brought her stuffed animal and blanket into my room to sleep in my bed. After my earlier encounter with Oksana, I didn’t mind having the company. It also made me feel good that Pigeon was starting to feel more comfortable with me. I needed that win. I did worry that when Tyler got home he might be looking for Pigeon, so I left another note on his door before climbing into my bed.

As I tried to fall asleep, I was still attempting to actively not think about my Oksana encounter and failing miserably when something she’d said came rushing back. Something not horrible or dismissive.

From what Tyler said, I thought you would be . . . attractive.

It was meant to be an insult, but that meant Tyler had told her about me. And that based on his description she thought I would be attractive.

And if I followed that through to its logical conclusion, that meant Tyler thought I was attractive.

The words flitted through me, leaving me feeling happy and light. He thought I was with Brad and he had an evil girlfriend and thanks to his rule we couldn’t be together, but Tyler thought I was pretty.

I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I drifted off to sleep.

 

The next morning that smile was still there. I got up, showered, and got ready for my car-buying trip. I went out to the kitchen to grab some cereal. While I was sitting at the island eating, I heard Tyler greeting Pigeon and my heart skipped a beat.

He came into the kitchen with a “Good morning!” His hair was still wet; he must have just gotten out of the shower as well. He had on a dark-blue T-shirt that lovingly showed off his muscled arms and made me wonder about the muscles I wasn’t seeing.

I so wanted to leap over this counter, tackle him, and make out with his face. I decided to use polite words instead. “Morning! Welcome back.”

Then I almost choked on my cereal when he reached up for his coffee mug, exposing an expanse of skin that showed me exactly what the shirt covered. I was so glad I was already sitting down as I lost all feeling in my knees.

“So I have a question for you,” he said, and every part of my body tensed in anticipation. He knows. He knows I replaced the pan! “Does the kitchen smell like, I don’t know, dishwashing soap to you?”

Oh crap. It kind of did. I thought I’d done a better job of cleaning it. I grimaced slightly in response. “I hadn’t noticed.”