My Alien Roommate Read online

  My Alien Roommate

  Tracy Lauren

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Tracy Lauren

  © 2020 Tracy Lauren

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Carly

  It’s early still, especially for a Saturday, but I can smell the coffee brewing out in the kitchen and it pulls me from my bed—a wide smile spreads across my face. It is so good to have Sarah back home.

  Just last night, my bestie slash roommate returned from a week-long romantic trip with her boyfriend, Brad. And damn if it didn’t get lonely around here without her. Plus, the coffee situation was dire. But now my girl is back!

  Don’t get me wrong, I was happy Sarah got to go on such an extravagant vacation, but I just don’t get enough caffeine when she isn’t around. She’s like my own personal barista. Plus…it’s just no fun watching rom-coms without her. Nor is eating dinner alone every night.

  Now, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m needy, I’m just used to having my bestie to do everything with. Of course maybe…maybe I have been leaning on her a little too hard since my own breakup. But that’s what friends are for, isn’t it? Hell, I’d be there for her if she and Brad ever parted ways—not that that’s likely to happen. Those two are certifiably in love.

  I pad out into the kitchen but Sarah’s nowhere to be seen.

  “You up?” I shout.

  “Just a minute!” my friend calls from behind her shut door. “Don’t start coffee without me!”

  I frown at her request, my hand paused over my favorite mug. I guess I can show a little self-restraint. She probably wants to fill me in on all the details of her trip over our morning cup of joe, and believe me, I am so eager to hear all about it.

  Sarah’s flight got in late last night and she and I still haven’t had the chance to dish about her time in the Caribbean. Lucky girl. I’ve always dreamt of traveling, but with my career plans…let’s just say I should keep on dreaming. Doesn’t matter though, I have my priorities in order and I can always live vicariously through my girl.

  “You better be tan enough for the both of us!” I holler as I fire up my laptop. Already I’m thinking of palm trees and sunshine, so to add to the fantasy, I open up the French doors leading out onto the balcony, hoping to get some sea air in the room for when Sarah tells me all about those white sand beaches and crystal-clear waters. I’ll just close my eyes and pretend I’m somewhere on a beach and my coffee is actually a Mai Tai.

  Sea air wafting in, I drop down onto one of the bar stools and pull my laptop over, figuring I’ll check my email while I wait for Sarah. I click open the browser, still more interested in a Caribbean adventure than I am in whatever’s waiting in my inbox. “Hurry up, I’m on the edge of my seat out here!”

  “Yeah! Yeah!” I hear her dresser drawers slamming shut as she rushes, but my eyes land on a new message…from Shawn.

  Sarah’s door swings open and I have to pull my eyes from the computer screen and force a smile to my face. Few people can get under my skin like Shawn can, and I haven’t even read his message yet. I should be focusing on my friend, yet here I am, already being drawn into his bullshit. I try to shake it off for Sarah’s sake.

  “Look at that tan!” I gush. Sarah bats her eyelashes and strikes a silly pose, showing off her golden glow.

  “Great, huh?”

  “You look like a model.”

  Sarah snorts. “Yeah right. You’re just trying to get at that coffee.”

  I grin. “Did it work?”

  Sarah gives me a raised brow as she marches over to the coffee pot.

  “Start dishing,” I tell her. “I want a play-by-play starting at the very beginning. The flight, the stewardess, did they give you little bags of peanuts?”

  Sarah laughs. “Wouldn’t you rather just hear the highlights?”

  “Hell no. You think I’m ever going to get to go on a Caribbean vacation? You better paint my poor ass a picture. I want to visualize it. Leave no detail unturned, I want to hear about every damn grain of sand on that beach.”

  “You’re deprived.”

  “I really am,” I agree.

  “Too bad I’m not telling you a thing until the coffee’s ready,” she says, getting out her special ingredients. “In the meantime, what’ve you been doing?”

  I look down at the message from Shawn, and against my better judgment, I open it. “Oh, you know…” I tell her. “The usual. Work, work, work.”

  Hey Carly, I wanted to let you know Dr. Lewin is going to have an opening for a Ph.D. candidate this fall. He and I had a long talk yesterday about what a great fit you’d be in the position. Come down to the campus next week during his office hours and you can let him know you’re interested. We all miss you down here. It makes me sick to think of all the potential you’re wasting; isn’t it time to come around? —Shawn.

  My heart pounds with anger. The jerk. Who the fuck does he think he is—

  Sarah pushes a full and steaming mug of coffee in my direction and it draws me out of my thoughts. Grateful, I look up at her, but the smile on her face is tenuous, and she pairs it with an ominous, “We need to talk.”

  Uh oh. Nothing good ever starts with we need to talk, even if there is coffee involved.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  She deadpans. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

  “Is Brad pregnant?” I tease.

  “Very funny.”

  “Sorry, I’m just stalling. You look too serious for your own good…or maybe for my own good.” I let out a laugh, but it sounds nervous even to my ears. Doubly so when I look down into my coffee cup and notice Sarah’s added whipped cream and cinnamon.

  “Oh my God, this is a bad we need to talk, isn’t it?”

  Sarah takes a deep breath and plasters a smile to her face. “Okay, I’m just going to say it.” But then there’s an extended period of silence where she fails to continue. I roll my wrist, encouraging her to go on.

  “Yeah. Okay. Here we go. You see Carly…there comes a time in every woman’s life when she…um…um.”

  “Do you need a minute?”

  “No. No, I got it. Okay, this is about growth. Women blossom and…and when a woman blossoms, she uh…she grows into something more, and, and people take notice of that, ya know?” Sarah’s hands are a flurry as she explains this exciting concept to me.

  “Are you trying to tell me you’ve started your period?” I ask skeptically, my eyebrow cocked. I’m still trying to keep it light. “Because you’re 26, I kind of already figured… Plus we have all those tampons in t
he bathroom…”

  “No. No, no, no.” Her hand clicks against her coffee mug, tapping it, and she looks thoughtful. “I should have planned this better, written a speech or something.”

  “Nooo, you’re doing great,” I assure her, sipping my hot coffee. For a moment it distracts me from whatever horrible news Sarah’s about to lay on me. It even distracts me from that rude-ass email from Shawn.

  Sarah… I shake my head; this girl is the best roommate ever. Not to mention the best friend I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying that because of the artisan-style coffee she can make at the drop of a dime—when mine always tastes like it’s from the bottom of the carafe at the end of a long day at a cheap diner. How does she do that, I wonder? Same ingredients, yet mine’s always shit…

  “You see, when two people fall in love, sometimes they decide to take a certain step together. A very mature and grown-up step—”

  “Ohhh, now I get it. This is a birds and the bees talk,” I tease.

  My roommate sighs and taps her hand on the table. It makes that loud clicking noise again and this time my eyes follow it. And that’s when I forget all about giving Sarah a hard time. Because there, on my best friend’s finger, is a big, fat, shining diamond ring. An engagement ring. My mouth falls open and she sees me finally take notice of it.

  “Carly, I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”

  I jump out of my seat and pull my friend into a tight hug—or maybe I’m shaking her? Same thing, right? “BRAD PROPOSED?!” I scream, bouncing with adrenaline. “HOLY SHIT! BRAD FRICKIN’ PROPOSED!”

  Sarah nods vigorously, happy tears pricking her eyes. But that’s when her words finally make their way through my brain. “Wait, what’s the bad news?”

  Sarah winces, uneasy. “He…asked me to move in with him.” She pauses, gauging my reaction before she continues. “And…I said, yes.”

  “Oh. Oh yeah. I mean, of course. That makes perfect sense.” My words kind of echo in my ears, but I snap myself back to attention when I see the worried look on Sarah’s face and I take a deep breath, letting my genuine happiness flow through me. I’ll worry about practicalities, like rent, later. Right now, I’m going to congratulate my best friend on her engagement.

  “I am so happy for you, Sarah.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course! Brad is awesome and now you get to plan a wedding!” I let out an excited squeal.

  “Shhhh, Mrs. Doherty is going to hear you!” Sarah warns. Both of us cast nervous glances toward the open balcony doors.

  I swear that old woman’s got bionic hearing or something. So, I consciously lower my voice to a whisper, even though Mrs. Doherty lives on the opposite side of the building and on the ground level. “A freaking wedding, girl! How cool is that? You better invite me to do all the fun stuff with you,” I warn.

  “Obviously! You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

  “Shut your mouth! Are you serious?”

  “Well, duh. Who else am I going to ask? Andrea?”

  “Don’t even joke, not at a time like this.”

  “I’m kidding, Carly! Like I’d ask that witch for anything. You’re my best friend! I want you to be with me through every step of the engagement and the wedding.”

  My own eyes well with tears and I wave my hand in front of my face. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to cry.”

  “It’ll still be a few months before we get around to anything good, like dress shopping,” Sarah explains. “I hope you don’t mind big poufy sleeves and neon colors, by the way.”

  I snort. Yeah right. I don’t know anyone more elegantly stylish than Sarah. I sniffle and wipe a tear from my eye. “Please, I’m sure you already have a Pinterest board with color palettes going. And I’d bet six months’ rent neon is not involved.”

  “About the rent,” Sarah starts, reaching for a Staples bag.

  “Don’t even think about that right now! We’re in celebration mode.”

  “Actually, I’m in I’ve-got-to-go-to-work mode, which is why I want to show you this.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not trying to leave you high and dry on the rent. So, I made a flyer to put up in the coffee shop. We get all that foot traffic at Vices, we might get lucky, you know? Even at this time of year.”

  Ugh. Spring in a college town. It’ll be another three months before there’s a rush on apartments. Literally no one is going to be looking for a roommate at this point in the school year. Still, it’s better to be hopeful.

  “Let’s see the flyer.”

  Professional female seeking female. Fully furnished, two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment in the heart of Santa Barbara. Walking distance to everywhere you want to be. Enquire below.

  She’s listed the apartment’s amenities…not that there are many. While it’s been refurbished, this is still an old building. It’s small and it doesn’t have a community gym or a clubhouse like newer buildings usually boast. But it is adorable in its quaintness and the living room has a balcony, and if you sit in just the right spot, there’s an ocean view. A tiny, three-inch sliver of ocean view, but ocean view nonetheless. Sarah’s got a stack of these papers, with the address listed and my phone number written on little tabs at the bottom.

  “Do you think that beginning part sounds weird?” I question, wrinkling my nose. “Professional female seeking female?”

  “Well, you want a girl roommate, right? And you don’t want a party animal—so…” Sarah shrugs. I guess she’s right, and it is concise. But, wow… This is really happening. She’s printed flyers and everything.

  “How soon are you leaving?”

  “I’m going to put in my two weeks at the coffee shop today,” she admits, biting her lip nervously.

  My poor heart. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Now it’s her turn to get teary. “I’m going to miss you too, and all this—” she gestures at the apartment. “The past four years have been…”

  “Yeah,” I agree. It’s hard to put it all into words. Sarah and I have been through a lot together. We both started our time in Santa Barbara with different roomies. Shitty ones. Then eventually, we found each other and this gem of an apartment. It’s pricey, being so close to downtown and the beach, but nothing could have been more ideal for two young people wanting to enjoy the city. Over the years we’ve seen boyfriends come and go. Jobs too. We both graduated college. Struggled to find jobs in the workforce. And now this. The next stage. Sarah’s getting married. I try not to think of my own failed relationship with Shawn, but that gets easier all the time.

  “I’m unbelievably happy for you. You know that, right?”

  “The rent. It’s going to be—”

  “Rent is rent. It’ll work itself out, I’m sure. This is more important.” I squeeze her with another hug and reflect on our conversation before letting out a snort of amusement. “Women blossom? Where the hell were you going with that?”

  “I don’t know! I was just trying to get you to notice the ring!”

  “Is that why you were waving your arms around like a crazy person?”

  “To be honest I thought you’d notice sooner. If I’d have known you’d be so slow I really would have written a speech.” Sarah’s phone buzzes. “Ah shoot. I’ve got to get to work. It’s a short shift though, I should be back home by three.”

  “And then celebration mode. We’re going to open a bottle of wine, get takeout, and you are going to tell me all about that proposal.”

  “Senor Thai?”

  “You know it!”

  My best friend squeals as she grabs her keys and heads for the door. But before we can take two steps, there’s a loud knock. We both startle.

  “Who could it be at this hour of the morning?” I wonder. But when I look out the peephole I’m not surprised in the least.

  “Mrs. Doherty,” I whisper.

  “I’ll take this,” Sarah offers generously. “After all, you’re the one who’s going to be stuck with her.” Okay
…maybe not so generous.

  Mrs. Doherty knocks again, more angrily this time. “I heard shouting; is there a problem in there?” her sharp voice calls through the door. I grimace and make a hasty (and cowardly) retreat to my room.

  “Morning, Mrs. Doherty!” I hear Sarah say happily on her way out. Smart, she’s not letting herself get boxed in. As long as she keeps moving she should lose our nosey, pushy, old neighbor. It’s not like Mrs. Doherty is going to follow Sarah to work…in theory anyway.

  Inside the safety of my room, I lean against the door, taking in the happy news. Sarah is getting married. Good for her. It means a lot of upheaval for me, but for the next two weeks all I want to do is focus on my friend and her happiness. Silently, I vow to keep thoughts of rent and my fear over not being able to secure a roommate to the minimum. I’ll even ignore the shitty-ass email Shawn sent me. This is a happy time and God damn it, I’m going to be happy.

  I push myself away from the door and swing open my closet. I’m going to head to the store and pick up some bridal magazines while Sarah’s gone. It’ll be a nice surprise when she gets home. While it still is her home, that is…because in two weeks she’s going to be five, long hours away from our quaint little apartment in Santa Barbara.

  No matter how happy I am for Sarah, the thought of her leaving feels a little bit like a punch to the gut. She was just gone for a week and now I’m going to have to get used to her being gone for good. I let out a shaky sigh. I’m going to miss my best friend so damn much. Brad lives up in San Francisco, which isn’t terribly far. But far enough where Sarah and I won’t be able to see each other as often as we’re used to. And we’ve only got two weeks left.