 
### The Runaway Roommate

### by

### C.S. Mae

Casey Peters has a problem and that problem is the half Korean hottie that moved in when her former roommate moved out.

Now her life has become like an episode from one of her favorite dramas, complete with: crazy exes, roommate shenanigans and confusing plot twists.

This story is a Naughty Niblet: the perfect amount of sexy to satisfy, but not make your hips big.

### Copyright

Text Copyright © 2012 by C.S. Mae

Cover Design © 2012 by Bethel Stoddard

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of the publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Smashwords Edition

### Prologue: The Setup

Today's drama opens to a scene with four attractive ladies sitting together in front of a big screen TV. They are a wee bit tipsy from the drinking they've done and giddy with gossip.

Casey is putting in the DVD. Joan is flipping a long brown braid over her shoulder. Lola is kicking off her mile high stiletto shoes. Beth is tipping one last gulp of alcohol into her mouth.

The girls have come to watch their addictive Korean Dramas and ogle hot Asian men.

What they may or may not be aware of is how close their lives have begun to mirror their favorite Friday night entertainment.

### Chapter 1. The Loan Shark Attack

###

" _I don't understand why these girls always let themselves feel responsible for their parents' gambling debt."_

" _Maybe, it's because they all still live together? Have you noticed that in Korea it seems like children live with their parents long past 30?"_

" _Can you imagine? Ignore my shuddering over here."_

" _Remember the one where the girl's friends somehow managed to sell her house while she was on vacation? I still don't get how that's possible. Korea has weird home ownership laws."_

" _Seriously. Watch out, girl! You can run from those creditors, but you can't hide!"_

It purely sucks to be 32 and still need a roommate—especially when the need for that roommate is your own darn fault. Sure there were plenty of us living in the Bay Area that required roommates, housing prices being what they were. But it wasn't like I was living in downtown San Francisco or anything. I should be able to live where I am without a roommate.

_School loans, credit card debt, and living in the East Bay_ , I thought. Any of those separately might lead to financial problems, but I had to go for the debt trifecta.

I hung the roommate ad on the room's bulletin board, feeling more like a college student than a gainfully employed minion of Titan Games—the largest game company in northern California and one of the largest companies in the world, with divisions in Texas, Canada, Germany and Korea. My job there was as a programmer, more fondly known in the industry as a code monkey, and I thoroughly enjoyed the money, even if I didn't always enjoy the hours.

I headed over to the vending machine with the quarters I'd grabbed from the room's _honey pot_ , which is what they called the large container of change the company provided us with for snackage while we put in our insanely long hours. Three Snickers bars later, I was munching my way through a string of code dedicated to making our lemmings—what we called the little characters a player could manipulate onscreen—line up in their queues properly.

This particular studio had two current projects close to the end of the development pipeline: the super-famous _Call to War_ and _Cyber Chef_. The former was a "shoot 'em up" war game filled with blood and violence. I was happy to work on the latter, which made the company less money and was considered grade B gaming by many. Still, I didn't have to code physics for multiple ways to make blood splatter. That was good enough for me.

"So what's with the notice?" asked Greg as he came back to his seat. He was my cubicle neighbor and programming partner. Around here, we mostly worked alone, but if anyone got stuck, we always had another pair of eyes to help us figure out where we went wrong.

"As posted, I'm looking for a roommate," I said, taking a swig of my soda.

"I thought you and Lola were, you know, _BFF_ s or whatever."

Lola Lee was my former roommate and, yes, one of my best friends.

"She's moving in with her boyfriend," I said. "So I need a new roommate. Luxury apartments don't come cheap." _And neither do credit card bills._

"What do you need a fancy apartment for? I live in a studio."

"Ever heard of a lease? Well, I've got one. Just renewed for another year, in fact. And there is no way I can cover 3k worth of rent on my own and still have enough to support my lavish lifestyle," I said.

Greg was quiet for a while, fingers clacking on keys.

"You know, I might know someone who needs a room," he said, pursing his lips and glaring at his computer.

"Who?"

"My cousin. He's a guy, but he has a girlfriend. Not that he'd try anything—" Greg said, cutting off as he stared at my oversized clothes and the extra 45 pounds I was carrying around.

_Yes, I'm a dumpy slob_ , I thought. _So what? You're not too great either. But thanks for assuming no guy would ever look at me._

As with most in my profession, I didn't put a lot of stock in appearances. Thanks to the cool Bay Area weather and the freezing cold office, most of the time I wore sweatshirts and jeans. Along with a healthy portion of my coworkers. At least I showered every day, which was more than I can say for the rest of the guys I worked with.

You probably think it's an exaggeration that all computer programmers are dirty, greasy-haired caffeine freaks who download files illegally from the internet. So did I, until I went to school with them. That is when I realized that almost every gamer-geek stereotype is spot on. By the way, I think Greg has worn that shirt three days in a row.

"I'm fine with guys, as long as they have good references," I said.

"He's a great guy. He had the bad luck of renting an apartment in one of those complexes that got foreclosed on and now he has to be out in 30 days. I guess it was rent controlled, too. So he's really desperate for a decent place," Greg said.

My phone buzzed and I checked my texts.

_Are we on for lunch?_ It was Lola, who also worked for Titan Games. Except she worked in the art department and was slightly more normal than I was.

~~~~~

"A guy, huh? Are you sure about that?" Lola studied me with her pencil thin black eyebrows raised. Her shoulder length black hair was perfectly straightened by a flatiron. I had personal knowledge of that fact, but the result was a gorgeous waterfall of hair that made me envious. My dishwater blonde locks were somewhere between wavy and straight.

Today she was dressed in one of her retro style outfits, a puff-sleeved white blouse with a tear-drop over the chest and a loosely-gathered knee length brown wool skirt. My hips would look a mile wide in something like that, but somehow she managed to pull it off with no problems.

I mulled over her words.

"Well, I had four different roommates in college. The last one was a guy and he was by far the easiest to be around—even with all the girls coming over. Heck, we shared a bathroom with no problem."

"Well, thank goodness, you wouldn't have to do that now," said Lola, wrinkling her perfect button nose.

"Anyway, Greg is going to give him my number. He might not work for me, but I'm not ruling anything out at this point," I said and took a bite of my food.

"I'm sorry, Casey. I feel bad, ditching you like that."

"Not so sorry that it stopped you, though."

"Hey!" she said, and threw a sprout from her wrap at me. "It's not _all_ my fault, or should I remind you of your big fat credit card bill?"

I sighed.

"Speaking of money, how is your bid for that promotion going?" Lola asked.

"Well, I applied for the open position, if that's what you mean."

"Do you think you'll get it?"

I shrugged and continued eating. It's notoriously hard for programmers to break into development and design careers without some sort of experience in the field. The problem is that many of us go for the bottom rung job when we graduate and it's a slow build through the ranks from there. Maybe it's because we just want to code for cash, then go home and play more games. Most programmers aren't big on interpersonal communication or largely skilled in leading. Still, I had some hope that I could be one of the exceptions.

"They haven't said if they want someone in house or not. I have two years of leading that student project in school and last year I took point and helped Raoul on the expansion pack for SimBaker. I was only over a group of twelve, but it included artists, animators and sound design. Don't you think that shows that I'm up for the challenge of leadership?"

Lola gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Like I know anything about management and their whims. I do what I'm told and pick up my paycheck."

"If I don't get it, I won't be too broken up about it. I've got a great team to work with, I enjoy the job I have now, and Cyber Chef is fun to work on..." I honestly didn't have too much to complain about.

Lola frowned, squinting her eyes at me.

"Casey, how long have we been friends?"

"4 years."

"And look at yourself now, compared to a year ago. Your hair is sloppy, your clothes are baggy and, frankly, pretty ragged looking, and what in the heck are you _eating_?" She grimaced down at my food.

"Macaroni and cheese. It's delicious," I said, taking a big bite. I made little moaning sounds.

"Exactly. How many calories do you think are in that bowl? Like 800?"

I snorted. "I really don't care. This is the kind of food I denied myself before. I'll never do that again."

I made the pretense of checking my phone.

"Crap! I have to go. I promised Greg to sit with him during his next code compilation." I stood and picked up my tray of fatty food.

"Casey..."

"I'll let you know how the roommate thing goes!" I said, then dumped the tray and left the room, with her eyes boring a hole in my back.

~~~~~

Back at my desk, Greg was cracking up over my latest code iteration. I could see the character jerking around like a robot. The lemming had one arm stuck moving up and down like it was waving; the other arm wiggled like it was having a seizure.

"Something must have gone wrong in my animation query," I said, pursing my lips. I got ready to bring up the code page, but my partner stopped me.

"Wait; let's get some video of that. I can set that to music and play it at our next 'Best Of' party," he said.

At Titan Games, we celebrated failure right along with success. Once a month, we got together and played our best mess-ups during production on the big screen. It was a beer-filled event that was more of a roast of the programmers than a nice way to celebrate the progress of the current game. Still, there wasn't a programmer who hadn't been featured at least once.

"Sure, if you give me a minute, I can get a bunch of them on the screen," I said.

My phone buzzed and I checked it.

Hey, this is David Reed. My cousin said you're looking for a roommate. I'm pretty desperate. Could we meet for coffee somewhere and discuss where it's located and what the cost is? Not that I care that much. I'd sleep in a closet with Greg at this point.

I laughed. "That was quick. Your cousin already contacted me."

Greg nodded. "I told him texting was the best way to get ahold of you during the day. I told you he was in a bind."

_Are you free after work today? I can meet at Cafe Blend at 6:30_ , I texted.

_That place is right down the street from where I work_ , he sent back. _See you then._

### Chapter 2. The Written Contract

" _I love it when they write out a contract."_

" _I agree. Too cute."_

" _'I promise never to love you or kiss you, even though you're super hot and we're living together.' How in the world do they think nothing is going to happen?"_

" _I really loved that baseball drama where the best friends lived together, never realizing that they've been in love for years."_

" _That one was kind of slow, but that kiss at the end made up for it!"_

" _Seriously! I still don't know why she wanted to take it slow after that. The man just kissed you like he was dying of thirst and you were a tall glass of water. Why would you want to slow down?"_

I don't know what I was expecting. No, wait. That's not true. I was expecting a Greg clone. Greg is 5'8", balding, and wears tight nerdy t-shirts a la _IT Crowd._ Of course, they looked much better on Roy's character than they did on Greg's bulging paunch. Greg isn't unattractive, but he's a total single white male.

So imagine my surprise when I show up to the coffee shop and this hot guy stood up to greet me.

"Hi. Casey, right?" he said. "Greg texted me an old photo of you."

I pulled my jaw off the floor and managed a nod as he gestured me to join him at his table. He was about the opposite of Greg in every way, except maybe height. I would have been shocked to hear that David was anywhere near 6 feet tall. He was broad-shouldered, looked to be in great shape, very attractive, oh, and Asian. Korean, as it turned out.

If you've ever seen Kim Kang Woo, you could understand why my mouth started salivating at the sight of those dark brown eyes, that shock of black hair swept to the side in a professionally cut, hand textured style, and that angled jawline. He was straight from the script pages of _The Slingshot_ and my eyes have never been more grateful. Of course, the broad shoulders that seemed to strain at the confines of their fitted business shirt didn't hurt, either.

My surprise must have shown in my face, because right off the bat, he said, "I bet you were expecting someone a little more like Greg. I'm half Korean. My mom is Korean; my dad is Greg's uncle."

"Ah," I said, as if the surprising part was his ethnicity. It was the best I could do. The man was that attractive.

"So, Greg said that you're fine with having a guy roommate?"

I nodded, bringing my brain back into functionality. "I had one in college. As long as we agree on some rules, I don't really have a problem with you living with me. But, before we jump the gun, why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"I'm the middle child. I have two sisters. My mother is insanely protective, but she feeds me a lot so you would reap the benefits—assuming you like Korean food."

_Homemade Korean food? The girls would go crazy over that_ , I thought.

"I like it well enough," I said, thinking of the bottles of soju—Korean liquor of choice—in my fridge. "What else?"

"I'm an event planner. I work for Mendoza Events."

"Events, like weddings?" I had a hard time picturing a guy enjoying wedding planning. Judging by _Bridezillas_ , weddings were all about flowers, hysterical brides, and picking out the perfect colors.

"Weddings are one of the divisions of the company. I do corporate events: grand openings, software releases, conferences. Bridezillas aren't my thing."

I laughed. "You must be a mind reader."

"Nah, I'm just used to answering that question. I have a girlfriend. I wouldn't say we're super serious. My mom hopes we'll get married and make lots of grandbabies for her to spoil, but I'm a little busy to think about settling down right now. And Shannon is, well, high maintenance."

I pictured someone the exact opposite of myself: tailored clothing, manicure, clean hair.

"You have a picture?" I asked, curiously.

"Sure," he said, and unlocked his phone. He was about to go to his photos, when his screen caught my eye. It was a picture of me.

"Is that—?"

"Oh, yeah. Greg sent that to me," David said and scrambled to leave the page.

"No, let me see that. I didn't know Greg had any photos of me."

"It's okay. It's a really old one."

"It's my picture. Let me see." I tugged the phone from his grasp and felt my face heat as I looked at the screen. It _was_ an old photo, about three years old, if I was to take a guess.

I didn't always look like this. I used to wear nice clothes. I used to wash my face with fancy products and moisturize. I used to be 4 sizes thinner. In the picture I was happy. It was one of our "Best Of" sessions and I was laughing, my blond pony-tail swinging.

I passed David the phone, his girlfriend's image forgotten for the moment. "I guess I've changed a bit." I laughed, but it sounded as forced as it was.

"Not as much as you might think," said David with kind eyes. His girlfriend was a lucky woman, I was sure.

I sipped my fatty coffee drink and grilled David on some of the details of his life.

"How long have you two been together?" I asked. I was betting on less than 6 months.

"Three months," he said.

"How did you meet?"

"She's a lawyer. This is going to sound silly, but my mom set us up."

"Awww... that sounds cute," I said.

"It's kind of her thing. It's weird, but at least it gets her off my back," said David.

"How about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

I almost snorted, but held myself back. "Not at the moment," I said, as though I was in a very short period of time between one love and the next. In reality, it had been over a year since I'd been on a date.

"Pet peeves?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

"Dirty socks left around the house, empty milk cartons in the fridge, sports fans," I said.

He feigned a sigh of relief. "I think we're in the clear. I'm a "shoes at the door" kind of guy and I use the clothes hamper religiously. I'm lactose intolerant so I only drink soy milk, and the only sport I follow is swimming. I was on the swim team in high school and college."

Which explained his swimmer's body.

"What about you?" I asked.

"A messy kitchen, angry commuters, and radio talk shows," he said.

"As long as my dishwasher is still working, you shouldn't have a problem with a messy kitchen," I assured him.

"So, the rules?"

"Fridays are girls' night. I host once a month, which means you are subject to a foursome of drunken ladies invading your house. My advice to you is to make yourself scarce. Have your girlfriend over as much as you want—or any other girls for that matter—just keep the noise down and give me at least a week's notice if you want me to clear out. The common areas need to be kept clean, but what you do in your bedroom and bathroom are your business. You've got the master, so your bathroom is attached.

"I have dibs on the big screen if I'm home. You're welcome to use any of the multiple gaming systems I own, with the understanding that you might get kicked off at any second. Luckily, I tend to work long hours during the weeks before a game gets released, so you'll have the house all to yourself then.

"If you like the place after you see it, I'll expect half of the deposit so I can give it to Lola when she turns over her part of the lease to you. Rent and utilities will be split right down the middle."

David nodded. "Sounds reasonable. I think I can handle all of that."

"Do you want to see it? I can give you the tour."

"Sure, I've got time."

I texted him the address and he followed me over.

~~~~~

After removing our shoes in the tiled foyer, I took him upstairs to the bedrooms. The layout was a semi-split level, with a sunken living area to accommodate the shallow stairs leading up to the second floor.

"This is my room," I said, pointing to the first door. Across the creamy-colored carpeted hallway was my bathroom. There was an open room between my bedroom and the newly vacated master bedroom, which was the den/office area. It was half library and half office space. "If you want some of it for yourself, we can work something out. I don't do a lot of work in here. Mostly downloading, ripping and other geeky semi-legal things," I confessed.

I don't support the piracy culture prevalent in my field. Especially since I tend to make enough money to support my love of gaming—not to mention working in an industry that is constantly battling illegal downloading. However, there are some things that would unavailable to me as an American without downloading them. Korean Dramas, for instance, can hardly be found anywhere unless they are downloaded from the server of another enthusiast. And don't even _ask_ what lengths I have to go to in order to track down English subtitles for these shows.

"I definitely need a work space, but my room seems big enough to house one," said David, pushing open the door to the mostly empty room.

Lola had left her bed and a few boxes and clothes in her room, but the majority of her belongings were at her new place. I showed him the bathroom and the walk-in closet.

"Are you sure you don't want this room for yourself?" he asked. He stared into the closet like it would swallow him whole. "No offense, but this seems more like something a girl would want."

I laughed. _How little you know me._

"I'm fine. Unlike Lola, my shoe collection is within the bounds of normal. I don't want the hassle of switching rooms."

I took him downstairs and showed him the open kitchen and living area.

"You own all this?" he asked, gesturing at my furniture.

"I bought it when I moved in," I said. And the cost of it was currently residing on my credit account.

"Nice," he said, eyes widening at the size of my television.

I had a faux-suede minimalist theme going. I like dark wood, so the dining table, end tables and coffee table were dark cherry. The couches were warm beige in color and easy-to-clean faux suede. The kitchen was dark wood, with beige granite counter tops. There were a few Kandinsky prints on the walls, as he was my favorite artist of choice. I couldn't really take credit for anything else. Lola was the one who'd added life by choosing my bright pillows and other colorful accents. Even my dishes were white.

He inspected my DVD collection and let out an exclamation.

"Hey, I _know_ these shows. You watch Kdramas?"

I shrugged and smiled my embarrassment.

"My friends and I have something of an obsession going."

"You and my mother. They have a whole underground network in Koreatown down in LA where you can buy them. My sister picks them up during the school year and brings them home on break. You have quite a collection here."

"That's what we watch on girls' night. Although, I may watch a few outside of that, purely for my own amusement."

David shook his head, shirt tightening over his shoulders. _Can we say, distracting?_

"I don't get what makes those shows so appealing. How can you stand all the drama?"

I smiled and walked to the coffee table to pick up my current series—a Kdrama featuring a rich and pampered female prosecutor.

"All the love, drama, and diversion I could hope for in 20 episodes or less. How could I pass on that?"

### Chapter 3. The Drinking of Soju to Excess

" _What is it with Koreans and drinking themselves into embarrassing situations?"_

" _I don't know, but look at her dance. I'm laughing my butt off over here."_

" _Just promise me this one doesn't end in vomit or a messing of the pants."_

" _I'm sure you're safe. Oh no, wait up, looks like I was wrong."_

" _Dead wrong!"_

I held out my cup for another shot of soju. I drank it slowly, as one bottle of it could make a girl as silly as a drunken Kdrama character. Tomorrow was Saturday and there wasn't a push for the newest product yet, but the hangover would be killer if I imbibed too much. I gave myself plenty of time to enjoy its effects.

The ladies and I were sitting around the bar, our usual perch at my house until we reconvened to the couch. The boxed up remnants of bulgogi—marinated sirloin grilled and wrapped in lettuce with a nice thick slather of ssamjang—and Meat-jun—egg battered beef—were all around us. Beth was finishing off the rest of the ramen and kimchi fried rice. Kimchi is an acquired taste—pickled cabbage and other veggies, anyone? We'd all managed to acquire it, though.

I sipped my drink, sighed, and grinned.

"So when do we get to see this hottie?" Joan asked. She was the tallest in the room at 5'10", supermodel thin and looked like she could throw on a couture dress and walk the runway after a quick shower and a layer of makeup. It was inconceivable that a woman with two little boys and no sleep could look that good, but she managed to do it week after week.

"What does he look like?" asked Beth. "If you could pick a Kdrama actor, I mean."

"Oh, my God! He's upstairs, keep your voice down!" I hissed.

Money had exchanged hands, boxes had moved in and David was officially my roommate. We'd barely seen each other thus far, as he was prepping for some big event of the fall.

He was clean, courteous and quiet—everything I wanted in a roommate. It was still too early to tell, but I was starting to think he'd be the best roommate yet.

"That didn't stop you from describing his body in detail," Beth pointed out, slurping up her noodles. She had short black hair and adorable mod glasses framing her gently-slanted brown eyes. I teased her, calling her Sporty Spice, because her outfit of choice was usually anything considered active wear in a department store.

"Ahhh...." I closed my eyes, picturing him shirtless again, which is what he'd been only this morning, when he padded down for coffee in the cut-off sweats he appeared to sleep in.

Lola giggled. "Look at the lust, ladies!"

They all laughed, too.

"I'd be a stone if I didn't notice," I said. "He has a girlfriend, so I can look away without guilt. Not that he'd be interested, anyway."

"Casey," Lola said, brows coming together. "You're a very pretty girl. If you'd just..."

"Lose my extra 45? I don't _want_ to." I pulled my shirt down to cover the roll that formed over my pants. "I'm never making myself look good for a man again."

"What about for yourself?" asked Joan.

"I'm happy with me, just the way I am."

Silence.

"You used to love running, Case. What about that?" Lola asked.

"I, for one, miss my running buddy," said Beth. She pursed her rosebud lips into an adorable pout and clasped her hands together, looking at me with pleading eyes.

I was about to snap back with a sarcastic answer, when the aforementioned roommate put in a sudden appearance.

"Good evening, ladies," David said, and smiled.

I was beet red and seriously hoping he hadn't heard too much of our conversation.

"Sorry to interrupt your girls' night, but I need a caffeine fix if I'm going to make it through my work. Gonna have to put in some long hours," he continued.

The girls made a chorus of assurances, letting him know it was fine with them.

"What's all this? Smells good," he said peering at the counter as he opened the fridge to grab a cold soda.

"Girls' night food to match our girls' night Kdramas," I said.

His eyebrows rose. "Korean?"

Joan nodded.

"May I?" he asked, dipping a finger into the sauce of the Meat-jun. He put it in his mouth, eyes closed, and made a humming sound.

"Well?" I asked.

"Good, good," he nodded. "Not as good as Omma, though. If you ever want the real stuff, I'll have her bring some for you. If you like this, you'll die when you taste hers."

We chatted with him for a while, then he said goodnight and took his caffeine fix back up the stairs with him.

When we heard the door close, three faces whirled to look at mine.

"You weren't kidding, were you?" said Lola.

"Holy Moly!" said Beth.

"I'm wishing I was single and living in this apartment right now," said Joan. "Although, he's a bit short for my taste. I like my men tall."

"He's taller than me," I said.

"You're all of 5'5", short stack," she replied.

"So, what's his girlfriend like?" asked Lola.

"No idea, but I get the feeling she's Korean," I said. "His mom really likes her."

"How does that make her Korean?" asked Beth.

"Uh, well, you know on those dramas, the moms are always so picky," I said.

"You don't know her. Maybe you shouldn't base David's mom on a fictional TV drama," said Joan.

"It doesn't matter anyway; I'll probably never meet her. Enough talk, time's wasting! Let's get to those DVDs," I said, changing the subject.

~~~~~

Three hour-long episodes later, we were pretty plastered, sprawled on the couch discussing that evening's episodes.

"I told you that guy was his brother. You didn't believe me, but I told you," said Lola.

"Stupid birth secret," I said. "For once, I would like everyone to know who everyone's parents are. Sheesh."

"I don't care a bit who his brother is. I just wish he'd take off his shirt again," said Beth.

"He did take it off—again, and again, and again—because you kept rewinding the DVD," I pointed out.

"Did you see those abs? I don't know what Gong Yoo has been doing since his last movie, but it looked to me like he's been doing nothing but working on those babies!"

"Yes, I saw those abs—over and over and over again," I laughed.

### Chapter 4. The Makeover

" _Wow, she looks amazing! No one can mistake her for a boy now."_

" _You have to admit, though, she looks a lot like boy when she's not all dolled up."_

" _For sure. A lot more realistic than that girl from the Josean drama. I kept thinking the whole time, 'Who would ever mistake this woman for a boy?' Am I right?"_

" _So right. I love the makeover, because the girl always gets a better haircut. Remember that drama where Kim Sun-ah gets that cute shoulder length cut? Way better for her."_

" _I wish they would have given her attitude a makeover. She was serially grumpy on that drama. She always had the ugliest look on her face."_

" _You would too, if you were dying of cancer!"_

"Hey, I forgot to tell you, I found something up in my closet that I think might be yours," said David, holding out a box to me.

I paused the game I was playing. I think I mentioned before that I don't like "shoot 'em up" games. Not because I feel like they encourage violence—though perhaps they do—but mostly because they're so _boring_. I feel the same way about those online multiplayer games most of the time. I have no interest in hunting down orcs for hours and hours a day just to increase my character by one freaking level.

What do I like? The classics: your Brothers Mario, the green clad Link of _Zelda_ fame, and _Tetris_. I could name about a hundred more from dinosaur game systems that you couldn't buy new for less than half a grand. I love my new games, but the oldies hold a special place in my heart. Case in point, I was currently playing _Dr. Mario_. This delighted David, who was diverted from his initial comment.

" _Dr. Mario_? I haven't played this since I was a kid!"

"I like to play the older games," I said.

"Can I have a turn? You can look through that box and tell me if it's yours," said David, plopping down next to me on the couch.

I scooted over and tried not to feel self-conscious about my unwashed hair and baggy sweats. It was Sunday, my official day of rest. It was the only day of the week I never—unless forced at gunpoint—ran errands or did laundry or even bathed if I didn't feel like it.

David gave me the box and I gave him the controller.

"Man, this is so cool. I played this game for hours. I was pretty good, too."

His voice faded into the background as I opened the box. Inside were two pairs of running shoes, a pacing monitor, and several awards for placing high within my age group. My heart was thunka-thunkaing in my chest. My hands shook as I lifted out a shoe, then dropped it and shoved the lid back on as soon as I could will myself to move.

David glanced over at me, then back at the screen.

"So is it yours? Or maybe Lola's? Although, can I just say, she doesn't seem like a runner."

"No, she's an elliptical with her e-reader in front of her and a slight sheen of sweat on her brow kind of girl," I replied. "It's mine."

He paused the game.

"So... why was it in my closet? Did it get put on time-out?" His dark-eyed gaze was curious, but also hesitant, as though he wasn't sure it was okay to ask.

I set the box on the floor and pushed it away from me with my foot.

"I'm not sure. I thought I got rid of all that stuff."

~~~~~

Lola and I are moving in to our new apartment. It's so different from the loft style that I'd lived in before, but I can already tell that I'll like it better. There are more windows and it has a great view of the community park and rec center. Even the layout, with the dining area facing the open deck, has a more inviting feel than the closed in cement patio of my previous place.

" _Do we really need all this new furniture?" Lola asks, frowning at the brand new couch and the tall stools already placed at the bar. "This stuff looks expensive."_

" _Don't worry about it. It's not like you had any furniture that was new. You were living in a veritable Goodwill grab bag. You just focus on the artsy accents and knick-knacks you love so much," I say._

Load after load comes into the house, some upstairs, and some down. My stuff is a hodgepodge of old grocery boxes, office file folder boxes, basically whatever I could scrounge up to pack in. It takes us hours and we're almost done when I order the pizza and Lola's grilled chicken salad, no dressing.

" _Are you sure you don't want a piece? There's plenty here," I say around a mouthful of food._

Lola shudders and wrinkles her nose. "You know I can't stand that greasy stuff. It's hard on my stomach."

" _Suit yourself," I say and grab another piece._

Lola stares at me for a minute then walks off. She comes back with another box.

" _What do you want to do with this one?"_

I know what it is before she lifts the lid.

" _You can toss it," I say and turn back to my food._

~~~~~

I thought she'd thrown it away, but, obviously, she'd kept it hidden up there in her room, hoping that I would magically turn back into the Casey that gave a damn about running and eating right. The one who dressed like a person instead of a slob. _Sorry, Lola, it's not gonna happen_.

"You don't run anymore?" David asked.

I snorted. "I think that fact should be perfectly obvious," I said and waved a hand toward myself.

He looked at me again for a long moment, then restarted the game.

"I used to be really good at this game," he said again.

"Well, not as good as me, I bet. I mean, it must have been years since you've played it and I play it all the time."

"I bet I could still beat your highest score."

I sneered at him, shaking my head. "Yeah, right. My highest score is 230,500. Do you know how long it took me to make it that far?"

He paused the game and turned toward me with an adorable half grin.

"So, if I can't top your score, how bout I do the dishes for a week?"

I grinned back. "Sounds good to me."

"And if I _do_ beat your high score, you run with me every day for a week," he said.

"Hey!" I protested. "That's nowhere near being an even bet. How far would I have to run?"

"Let's say, half a mile," David said.

I quieted, mulling that over. "Okay, it's a deal."

Four hours later, he was still playing and was 3,000 points ahead of me.

"Better get those running shoes on," he said.

### Chapter 5. The Evil Ex

" _I really can't stand that guy. Most of the time the second male lead is really nice, but this time he's a real jerk."_

" _I just don't get why she let him walk all over her like that. Has she no backbone?"_

" _As she just admitted two scenes ago, she does not."_

" _I know, right? When they were dating she'd just come any time he called. It looks like nothing has changed."_

" _Tell me about it. You have a hot, sweet man over here just waiting for you, but you fly off to see your ex just because he asks you too? Then you do him a favor on top of it? Crazy!"_

"I'm gonna ask. You knew I was going to eventually, right?"

It was a clear fall day, one of the reasons I love the Bay Area so much. This close to the coast, some of the nicest weather all year was in the fall and winter. No wonder everyone wanted to move here.

I was lagging, even though David had set a slow pace. There was no question that I was out of shape, as I huffed and puffed behind him. This was the first time I'd worn my running shoes in over a year. It was not enjoyable.

"Go ahead. I hate you, by the way."

He laughed outright at my glare. "You know you'll love it after a few days. Once a runner, always a runner."

"Shows what you know," I said. "This is one part of my life I was happy to leave behind."

"Really? All those awards make that hard to believe. So why did you stop?"

I refused to answer. This was not something I felt like discussing with my friends, much less someone who was almost a complete stranger. Instead, I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I felt the fat on my face wobbling and for the first time felt more disgust than apathy at the state I'd let myself get into. I used to be so fit, now I was like a Thanksgiving Jello mold.

"Come on, I'm dying of curiosity. I don't want to make you uncomfortable—"

"Then. Stop. Asking," I said through gritted teeth. My anger had helped my energy level and I was almost beside him now. Just close enough to smell the clean scent he wore, but far enough away to get a great view of his butt moving underneath his shorts with every step. Yum.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. If your life were a drama, then I could think of a few reasons why you would have stopped running. Here is my first guess. You and your fiancé ran together every day, but then he was killed in a fatal car crash and you couldn't stand to be reminded of him every day so you gave it up."

"Nope," I said.

He turned around and was running backwards now, looking like he could do it all day. Meanwhile, even the cold air did nothing to stop the sweat from pouring down the sides of my face, leaving tendrils of blond hair stuck to my cheeks.

"Okay, next one. You used to run, but then you got a terminal illness, that only a doctor with a revolutionary surgical technique could cure. You flew to Switzerland for the treatment, but you're still in recovery, so you can't run yet."

I thought about his fake story, cocking my head.

"And the medication I have to take makes me look like this?" I gestured to my midsection and jiggling thighs.

"Sure. I mean, you would know, right?"

"Still wrong," I said.

"How about this one, then? You were a top runner, placing first in every race, until a beautiful but evil rival defeated you utterly, leaving you despondent and unable to take up the sport again. Still, someday you vow your revenge."

I pursed my lips, eyes narrowing.

"Dead wrong," I said and he turned back around. Now we were next to each other.

"I wish you'd tell me," he said, leaning his head in my direction. "It would probably make you feel better."

"Have you ever experienced a moment in your life that seemed to wash everything over with a sludgy gray film? Seriously, everything was crisp vivid color, then all of a sudden, you feel like you're looking at a bowl full of ashes?"

"I can't say that I have."

"And that is why I'll never tell," I said and let my pace slacken so he was ahead of me again.

~~~~~

Even with the run and the inevitable rinsing in the shower afterward, I was still early to work that morning. Which is why I was surprised to be called into Patricia Schiff's office.

Patricia was my "perfect" mirror image. By that, I mean if I was looking into a mirror and suddenly appeared perfect, she was what I would look like. As tall as me, she was supermodel thin, clad in black tailored suits—an oddity in a world where most people wear casual clothing—and had shoulder length golden hair with pencil-thin platinum blond highlights. She was the executive producer for our game. Every aspect of the pipeline was under her supervision and she made the whole damn thing run like clockwork.

For all the bossy, structured nature of her position, she was also a decent human being. Unlike some directors who tend to get tense, dramatic, and hard under a deadline crunch, Patricia got cheerful. She was the most honest person I've ever met, but she was also a great cheerleader. Frankly, it made my job worth doing. Heck, there was a time when my biggest dream was attaining her position.

"I just wanted to let you know where we're at with the programming director position," she said, after I sat down. Today of all days, thankfully, I was wearing khakis and a nice shirt instead of my usual sweatshirt and jeans. Maybe my luck was turning. "We've decided to go with an outside hire."

I nodded, unsurprised. So many times in this industry, a company would pluck hot young talent from some other company's stable of employees. Not to mention the fact that from where I was currently, to where the new position was, meant a large hop between.

"I'm going to be honest here, Casey. You're hardworking, talented, responsible, and you work well with everyone in your group. It just seems like lately," Patricia paused, tapping her lip with a pen, "you haven't had your heart in your job. I can tell the difference between enthusiastic Casey and the Casey who puts in the hours she's expected to because she doesn't really have anything better to do.

"Your self-confidence seems to have taken a nose-dive and you don't reach for a challenge like you used to. If that old Casey were in here now, she probably wouldn't have gotten the job, but she would have at least made me consider bumping her up to Senior Programmer level."

I was surprised at her words, but I didn't know if I could work up the energy to compete. It was only because of Lola that I'd even applied to the new position. I shrugged and looked down at my sneakers.

"I shouldn't tell you this, but Raoul is leaving in a few months. He's moving back to Seattle to be closer to his aging parents. That's going to leave the Senior Programmer position in your group wide open. There is no reason why it shouldn't be yours, if you want it. My only condition is that you get back that spark for your work that you used to have."

I raised my eyes to look at her and saw her speculative glance.

"Take some time to think about your goals, Casey. Decide what's important to you and if you're really meant to be a part of this industry. I'll be interested to see what you choose."

"I will," I said, voice rough. I cleared my throat.

### Chapter 6. The Sudden U-turn

" _There it is, there it is. I told you."_

" _Yes, yes, we know. You can't have an action drama without an illegal u-turn somewhere. At least he has a good reason."_

" _True. If you must make an illegal u-turn, do it to rescue your girl from the clutches of evil."_

Even after the week was up, we kept running. I don't know why. It wasn't about losing weight or getting into better shape. I didn't change my diet or put forth any effort besides that to get my butt off of the couch. We didn't talk much, either.

Maybe we did, about inconsequential things like work and play, but nothing serious. He told me about his girlfriend or lack thereof.

"The longer I'm around her, the less we seem to have in common. We sit across from each other at dinner and most of it is either awkward silence or superficial conversation about our jobs."

"She seemed nice, when she was at the house the other day. Smart and pretty," I said, trying to be positive.

He shrugged. "No matter how many blind dates I let my mother set me up on, they never seem to go anywhere. It's like, they're always good on paper, but not much else. No offense, but pretty only gets a girl so far with me."

"No offense?" I laughed.

"To you and all the pretty girls."

I gave him a skeptical look, but inside my stomach lurched. _He thinks I'm pretty?_

~~~~~

"So instead of living with a man, you'll be living with a single man," said Lola.

"They're still together," I argued. I didn't know why, but I hadn't told my friends I was running again, much less with David. So I made the comment about my conversation with him in an offhand way, as though he'd mentioned it over breakfast.

"But it sounds like it's not for long," she said.

"Let's not make this into a thing, Lola. He dates, he's busy. I don't date, I'm busy. I lived with a guy—an attractive straight guy—for two years during college and nothing ever happened between us. Don't forget that," I said.

"Yes, but you were dating someone at the time. What if you'd been single?"

"Nothing would have happened. No one knows why two people end up together out of all the people in the world. David is hot, yes, but there isn't that _thing_ between us. You know, that spark? That zing?"

"That 'I want to rip all your clothes off moment'?" Lola grinned and winked.

"Exactly! If that changes, I'll let you know, but right now, no dice."

"Have you heard who the new boss is yet?"

"No, but Patricia was nice enough to break the news herself that there was no chance I would get the job. The company had their eyes on an outside hire."

~~~~~

"What are we playing today?" asked David, coming in to sit on the couch next to me. There I was again, in my Sunday best—sweats, messy ponytail, glasses.

"We? There is no _we_ , my friend," I said, hunching over my controller.

He leaned in front of me, pouting and blocking my way.

"Didn't your parents teach you to share?"

"I hatched straight from an egg," I said, refusing to hand it over.

"Ha, ha. Hand it over," David said, holding out his hand.

"Mine!"

"Fine then," he said and stood up in front of the television, blocking me from seeing my little monkey friends. He crossed his arms, standing in front of my flat screen like a big hunk of man candy as my character got eaten by a crocodile.

"Move, move!" I waved a hand at him to get out of the way.

He sighed and shook his head. I heard the tell-tale sound of the "game over".

"Dang it! You made Diddy die! That level is super hard, too!"

He made a fake concerned face. "Awww... that's too bad. If you'd only agreed to let me have a turn, this never would have happened."

"Fine!" I said, throwing up my hands. "Get me a beer!"

He chuckled as he retrieved two beers from the fridge and opened them. He set one in front of me as I changed the gameplay mode from one player to two. It was a side-scrolling game, very typical of the games made in the early 90's, so I didn't need to explain much except the extra character moves.

"And that's how you get bananas, or extra lives, or whatever might be hidden in one of those bumps. But Donkey Kong is the only one that can give them to you. Got it? So when you need to, hit 'start' to bring me back into the game."

"Seems easy enough," he said, and took the other controller I'd just plugged in.

We played for a while in silence, then he brought up the inevitable question.

"So, was it a guy?"

"Hmm?" I was only half paying attention, busy as I was trying to navigate through the bad guy's lair.

"You don't run anymore. What made you stop?"

I paused the game.

"Do you want to play or not?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Play, please," David said and took a drink from his bottle.

"Then stop asking. I'll talk about it when I'm ready and not a moment before," I said.

Silence again.

"Why don't you tell your mom you aren't interested in getting married right now?" I asked, thinking of his complaints about Shannon.

"Because she's my mother," he said. Except he said the Korean word for mother—which I had gleaned from my many hours of Kdrama watching. It sounded like _oh-ma-knee_ , and it was super formal, used only when showing the deepest respect.

David continued, "Because I love her and respect her. Because she only wants what's best for me. Aren't you like that with your parents?"

I thought of my younger sister and I, raised by two former hippies turned corporate business types. Neither lifestyle was one that I was at home with. In my younger years, I remember living in a trailer out in the boonies. Later, I was given every comfort imaginable, but still, I couldn't wait to leave the house.

"My parents aren't exactly the warmest people on the planet," I said. "I put in my time at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but most of the time we all sit at the table, staring down at our plates, trying to seem normal."

"That sounds sad," he said.

"It is. Sometimes I feel like they went overboard in compensating for their formerly spartan lifestyle. What do you do for the holidays?"

"We celebrate the American holidays here. My mom is big on Christmas."

"I was surprised to see in the Kdramas what a big deal Christmas is in South Korea. The Christmas tree, singing, presents, everything. It was pretty surreal."

"Yeah, with the growth of Christianity they got Christmas. In the summer we used to go to Korea for a month for my grandmother's memorial. That hasn't happened much since I graduated college. I don't get a month of vacation time anymore."

"When is the last time you went?"

He sat back, mulling it over. "Three years ago, I think?"

I set down my controller, twisted to face him, and leaned back against the side arm of the couch.

"I would love to visit. Even if it was just to see some of the spots in my favorite dramas." I sighed, imagining it.

He laughed. "You and the other ladies of the infamous girls' night? I can see the four of you, prancing around the streets in Gangnam district, drunk and making trouble."

We both smiled.

Then the doorbell rang and we both sprang up from the couch. I peeked through the peephole at the older woman on my porch.

"Hey David, I think your mom's here," I said, gesturing for him to take a look.

"Oh, crap!"

### Chapter 7. The Meddling Mother

" _Here comes the payoff."_

" _When will these mothers learn that you can't buy someone's affection? A girl who truly loves your son wouldn't take any amount of money for him."_

" _Would you choose love or a big payoff?"_

" _How much money are we talking?"_

" _Um... hundred grand?"_

" _I'd take the money!"_

" _Not me."_

" _Yeah, well, I've got debts to pay."_

"'Oh, crap?'" I echoed.

"I haven't told her about my roommate situation yet," he said.

I pictured the old drama standby for opposite-sex roommate hijinks. "Should I hide in the closet?" I asked, half serious.

For a moment, I looked at the panic in his eyes and thought he'd take me up on the offer. Then I remembered how I looked—ill-fitting sweats, messy hair, glasses—and laughed.

"She won't be worried when she sees me. Look at me. I look like I just rolled out of bed," I said.

He snorted. "My bed," he said, looking unconvinced.

I waved him away from the door. "Let me handle this. We'll just act like she knew all along," I said.

David still wasn't moving. Meanwhile, his mother had knocked on the door and called out his name. I bumped him out of the way with my hip, which spurred him into action. He ran up the stairs, leaving me to greet her by myself.

"Hello," I said as she came in the door, gawking at me. "You must be David's mother. Please, come in."

She was holding two reusable bags, one in each hand. They looked heavy, so I leaned down to reach for one.

"Please, let me help you."

She watched me in silence, but released the bag to my grip and followed me into the kitchen.

"David told me you bring him food all the time. I must say, it smells delicious. I love Korean food, but I've never had homemade."

She was still silent as she set down the bag on the counter and looked around the kitchen, then the dining room. Then she moved on to the living room.

Just as I was beginning to think that she couldn't understand me, that somehow even her thirty-odd years in this country hadn't given her a rudimentary grasp of English, she spotted my Kdrama collection.

She looked it over with great interest before plucking it off the shelf.

"What did you think of this one?" she asked.

I stood there, stunned for a moment. Then I answered without thinking.

"I loved the setup, but the execution was a big hot mess," I said, thinking of three or four episodes of the drama where I sat with my friends in front of the television cursing the drama gods.

My bluntness made me sweat for a few tense seconds, and then David's mother laughed loudly, startling me for a moment. I walked over to join her and pulled another one out for her to see.

"Have you seen this one yet? It's amazing!"

By the time David himself was downstairs to greet his mother—freshly showered, no less—she and I were laughing over our current Kdramas and comparing notes on our favorites. The food was opened up and spread over the counter and I was helping myself with a blissful expression plastered on my face.

"Hey, what's going on here? My food!" David whined at the sight of me stuffing my face. He grabbed a bowl of pickled radish and held it to his chest like it was a precious child. His mother chuckled and pushed another bowl toward me.

"I like seeing someone appreciate my good food," she said, nodding at me. She turned on him with a fierce glance, "You! Sometimes I wonder if you even finish what I give you."

He looked outraged. "I do! Every bite!"

"Humph. I come here and you don't even greet me at the door, and take my things for me. This sweet child has more manners than you."

I gave him a smug grin, as I continued to eat the glorious food.

He didn't reply, but sat down next to me with a pair of chopsticks and matched me bite for bite.

"Shannon called me. She said she hasn't seen you in weeks."

David's chopsticks stopped halfway to his mouth and he gave me a guilty glance. I was honestly surprised. Then who was he talking to on the phone? I'd never heard him have an actual conversation with her—he always left the room—but I knew she'd called. Come to think of it, that probably _had_ been a few weeks ago. I'd been distracted by a new project at work.

"We're having dinner tonight," he said.

"Is this one not good enough for you? Should I set up another meeting?"

"This one?" I echoed.

David rolled his eyes.

"They're all amazing, Mom. Really, where do you find these women? I'm just... you know I'm busy right now, right?"

His mom looked at me, smiling, and reached over to pat her son's hand. "My son works so hard, his brain doesn't have time to take in romance."

"You know kids, always hoping for true love," I said, like I had a flock of irritating children myself, hidden away somewhere.

"Like he has time for that. Have you met Shannon?"

I nodded. "She's gorgeous, no question. She seems really nice, too. And smart."

"She's taller than me," said David. "She's vegan and I like meat. She never relaxes, never seems like she's able to enjoy herself. Shannon is nice, but she's all wrong for me. Just like every other woman you've set me up with."

_Awkward_. I was beginning to feel like a third wheel in this conversation, especially when David's face looked so earnest as he spoke.

Then he got a smack across the back of the head and his mother started lecturing him in a stream of Korean that left me cracking up at how much it looked like one of my dramas and I relaxed again. He whined back at her in Korean, rubbing his head and I laughed again.

She took my hand one last time. "It was good to meet you, Casey."

"It was nice meeting you, too," I said. "Thank you for the food. I'll try to leave some for David."

"Don't worry about it. I'll bring more, so enjoy yourself."

With that she disappeared into the hall, David following behind like a duckling. I heard them speaking in Korean again, and focused on my food.

~~~~~

I thought about David's words to his mom and then about my own love life. My workstation was a haze in front of me as I considered what I'd really had in common with Richard. For a long time I thought about it, then came to the conclusion that we'd had nothing, not one thing, in common. Why had we ever been together in the first place? Because we were in the same industry?

Greg leaned over the cubicle. "Hey, don't forget Patricia's coming up with the new head honcho in 15 minutes."

I nodded. I hadn't forgotten. I was actually excited to meet the new boss. We had three separate sections of coders for our game. I was happy to be a gameplay programmer, and worked directly under Raoul—who was on a leave of absence to be with his sick father—but the new boss would be in control of the three groups. They needed to keep producing busily for the pipeline. Patricia was counting on it.

"Gather round, people!" she called to the large group that had congregated in our common room. Why it was _our_ room they'd chosen to fill full up with a bunch of caffeine crazy people who felt that most hygiene was optional, I have no idea.

Still, curiosity found me trying to move against the press of people, to catch a glimpse of the new guy—or girl, as the case may be. Before I could get through the crowd, Patricia started speaking again.

"I'd like to introduce to you our new Director of Programming for _Cyber Chef_ , Richard Parsons."

I caught a glimpse of his face as she said the words. _Richard Parsons. Richard Parsons._ They reverberated in my ears like mosquitoes buzzing and were just as annoying. The rest of her words were drowned out by the pain in my heart and the clanging in my head.

Richard is back and he's my boss?

### Chapter 8. The Makjang Twist

" _Favorite Makjang moment in a drama?"_

" _Makjang?"_

" _You know, those super dramatic moments that move the story along and keep you all addicted to the Kdrama crack?"_

" _Oh. Birth secrets!"_

" _Family bankruptcy!"_

" _Lost and found family members!"_

" _Terminal illness!"_

" _Being cut off by family!"_

" _Amnesia!"_

" _Body swap!"_

" _Hahahahaha!"_

The memory goes like this:

I'm on my way home from a long day at work—nothing new in the world of Casey Peters. Thanks to obsessive training for my next 5K, I'd left the house with my bag at 5am. Now I'm home to dress and leave for Joan's place, as tonight is girls' night.

I live in a great neighborhood, but that's mostly due to my boyfriend, Richard. He's a producer at one of the many video game companies in this area. A producer in video game land isn't the same thing as it is in the movie industry; here it's more like they have executive power over either a whole game or a certain aspect of it, such as animation. Richard is one of those lucky producers with experience in being responsible for an entire game's design, and he gets paid big bucks for it.

Richard and I have been together for over a year, and have lived together 8 months of that time. My friends think I've flipped my lid, moving so quickly, but even they know he's a catch. He's tall and thin with a movie star smile full of bright white teeth. His dark hair is sprinkled with distinguished gray and he has the refreshing quality of being a man who knows exactly what he wants. What Richard wants is me.

We met at GDC, the annual game developers' conference, where nerds of the world unite to schmooze and booze and exchange cards. I was cornered by a well-known self-pleased blowhard who was notorious for spending hours talking about himself and his games. Richard spotted me across the room in my tight pink dress—so he says—and felt moved by pity for my plight. The rest is history.

I open the door—today's mail in my hand—and sift through it, dropping my keys in their bowl on the small table next to the door. Except they clatter to the ground, rattling against the tiles. Cursing my clumsiness, I pick them up to set in the bowl, when I notice the bowl isn't there. Neither is the table.

_The mail and my keys fall from my hands as I finally take in the front entry. It's completely bare. The walls are empty of their splashy and expensive artwork. The plush red runner that covers the tiled entry and hallway leading to the kitchen is gone._ Have we been robbed?

_My heart pounds out of control, and I try to breathe deeply to offset it, but my breath is quick and ragged._ What is going on?

I run through the rounded doorway into the spacious kitchen and living area. The couches are gone. So are the end tables, the lamp, everything. It's a bare room. Well, except for a few of my things, that is. I see my PS3, my Xbox, and a pile of my books that had once resided in the bookcase. There are a stack of DVDs in the corner—again, all mine.

I don't know why I bother checking each room, because they are all empty. Every towel, every bar of soap, every pillowcase is gone. The only things that remain are mine: my clothes, my shampoo and face wash, my little antique table in the bedroom that I wouldn't part with when I moved in.

Everything that was in the apartment had been Richard's. All of my furniture, before I had moved in, was cheap hand-me-down junk that I gave away when I came to live with him. I literally have no possessions in the world except for a few useless and frivolous things and what I put on my body.

I walk slowly down the stairs and back into the kitchen. Sitting on the counter is a note, written in the tone of one acquaintance to another:

Casey-

I took a job with Harper in Boston. The lease here is month-to-month, and I've paid for next month's rent. You will have about 30 days to find a new place.

Good luck in your future endeavors.

Regards,

Richard

I lean against the counter, wishing for a chair to slump into. Tears fill my eyes and I smack the paper note against the black granite counter top over and over again.

" _How could he leave me?"_

Smack!

" _A note? A freaking note?"_

Smack!

" _No notice, no remorse, no time to talk things out?"_

Smack!

" _What am I going to do? What am I going to do?"_

Smack! Smack!

I've been abruptly abandoned by my lover and I have no idea why.

~~~~~

I sank back into the crowd, avoiding his eyes. But when his voice rang out, the ball of dread in my stomach blossomed into full-force fear.

"Thanks for welcoming me here to Titan Games. I'm excited about digging into this project, even if I have to join it two-thirds of the way through. I just want to assure you that I'm not here to step on toes. I plan on spending the first few weeks here catching up and getting to know all of you.

"Be prepared for some one-on-one time with me, but don't worry, it's not an evaluation of your work or skills. It's merely a way for me to put names and faces with current assignments. That will help me finish up this project and help us all get off on the right foot to start the next one."

_Oh, God. Oh, God, I had to talk to him? Like this? I was a mess, a freaking mess and he looked more devastating and handsome than ever. No, no, no,_ I thought. _I can't do this._

~~~~~

I stopped for a bag full of liquor on the way home. I planned on calling in sick tomorrow. The first ever in my career, but man alive it was going to take a lot of alcohol to erase the horror I was feeling. Richard Parsons was my new boss? How was it possible? Who was responsible for this?

Richard, definitely, since he knew what company I worked for. Obviously, he couldn't be certain I _still_ worked at the same company, but the chances were pretty good after a little over a year apart that I would still be in the same job at the same company.

I tried to think back and remember if he'd ever taken any interest in my job. I know we'd talked about our jobs in passing. We'd certainly talked about them when we'd met. When we first started dating we talked about our jobs all the time. But given his callous treatment later on, was there any guarantee that he'd paid attention?

I'd paid attention to him. An industry manager with no programming experience, basically upwardly moving his whole career; he was now in control of the entire programming department of our _Cyber Chef_. It was nightmarish.

I'd managed to get a panicked text off to Lola during the meeting/schmooze fest going on around me. Only Greg noticed the alarm in my eyes.

"You gonna be okay, Case?" he asked, for the first time in our relationship eyeing me with more than casual concern.

"I think I'm about to have a heart attack," I said, panting as though the air was drained of oxygen and I was trying to get one last breath.

"Here, come sit down," Greg said, and ushered me back to his cubicle, which had the great fortune of being outside Richard's sight line. "Sit here while I get you some water."

I tried to calm down, tried to think of a solution, any solution to the epic tornado of crap that was about to be my life. My phone buzzed and I glanced at the screen.

Holy Mother of God, what did you just say? Are you kidding, Case, because that is NOT a funny joke!

_No, I'm not kidding_ , I wrote back. _Did I do something evil in another life?_

What are you going to do?

_Drink. A lot,_ I told her.

Greg came back with my drink and I swallowed a mouthful, then immediately choked when I heard Patricia's voice behind me.

"There she is! I've wanted to introduce you my right hand gal ever since we filled your position. Casey, this is Richard, the man who you'll be handing all your annoying pipeline problems over to while Raoul is away," Patricia was grinning, thrilled to introduce me to him. I swallowed and stood up, spreading a false smile across my face. Then I stuck out my hand, staring above Richard's collar and below his chin.

"Hi, nice to meet you," I said, trying to put an enthusiastic inflection in my voice.

His hand clasped mine, squeezing a little harder than was polite and my eyes flew to his.

"Nice to meet you, Casey. I look forward to getting to know you better. Patricia has praised you so highly that it seems almost impossible that you could be a flesh and blood human."

I yanked my hand from his grasp, as politely as I could.

"Yes, well, I better get back to work. Don't want to piss off the new boss. Ha, ha," I said, then backed away with my paper cup. Richard looked at me, but even after having lived in the same house with him, I couldn't decipher the expression on his face. Honestly, I was too shaken up to do anything but sit at my desk and stare unseeing at the code in front of me until it was time to leave for the day.

"Wanna go get a drink?" Greg asked, face a picture of sympathy.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to go home and take a nice long bath. Maybe I'll call you later," I lied. I could tell he didn't believe me, but I booked it out of there anyway.

### Chapter 9. The Drunken Result

" _Oh no, oh no."_

" _What did I miss?"_

" _His boss just walked into the restaurant!"_

" _Let me get this straight. He took his roommate out for drinks. She got plastered. Some girl gave him the eye and she screams out, 'He's gay!' in front of his boss?"_

" _That seems to be the gist."_

Alcohol doesn't help you feel better. This is why I'm not an alcoholic. Still, there are times in your life when you simply want blessed oblivion for a few short hours. That's all _I_ wanted—a chance to push aside the questions my mind was asking me, the ones I had no answer for.

David was gone, one of his events keeping him out all night. Perfect timing, really. No one here with questions of their own. I turned off my phone after making a short call to Greg, got a glass from the cupboard and started drinking.

It wasn't till the sun filled the room the next day and a hand pushed at my shoulder that I returned from my self-induced comatose state.

"Moargh," I said, and groaned. I'd had the presence of mind to put a tall bottle of water and the aspirin bottle on the coffee table when I'd started watching dramas and drinking last night. Eyes squinted, I leaned toward the table, arm outstretched, feeling around for the small container.

A hand pressed the bottled water into my hand, lid already loosened. Then a moment later, I had a couple of pills in my other hand, which I swallowed as soon as I was sure I could make my hand reach my mouth.

"Looks like you had quite the night," said David, in a too cheerful, too _loud_ voice.

"Ohmygod," I blurted, water sloshing as I reached a hand toward my pounding head. "Please, for the love of all the cute Korean men keep your voice down."

It was silent long enough that I figured maybe he'd left the room, but when I gained enough courage to open my eyes, there he was, standing next to the coffee table, smirking at me.

"People like you have no business smiling on a day like today," I said trying to pin him down with my fiercest glare. The trouble was, furrowing my brows hurt like the dickens so all I could manage was a mental bitch slap.

"Why is that? What, may I ask, brought this on?" David gestured to the table filled with empty bottles of alcohol, scattered containers with the remains of his mother's best leftovers, and the crumbs from a pan of brownies I'd whipped up when I'd gotten home last night. The sight of all that reminded me that I'd somehow managed to fit it all in my stomach.

Immediately I felt my insides roil and I pushed past David and ran to the downstairs bathroom. After I'd heaved up pretty much everything that had formerly been residing in my belly, I groaned again and sat on the floor with my back against the wall.

My hair was half out of its ponytail and fell in stringy clumps around my shoulders. My face was hot and covered in sweat. My body felt sore and numb. Well, I'd wanted my temporary oblivion; now, I was paying for it.

I looked up at him, filling the doorway. He held the half-drunk water bottle and two aspirin in a cupped palm.

"Can you get up, or should I bring it down to you?" he asked.

"I can get up," I said. I struggled for a few moments, but I did it in the end with a well-placed hand on the wall for support.

I stood over the sink and swished some water around in my mouth, then spit it out. I looked at my hideous reflection in the mirror—red, puffy face and messy hair—and decided to fix my ponytail and wash my face. Then I went back to the couch and took more pain medication.

"Sooo..." said David, after he had put most of what was on the coffee table in a large trash bag. He sat down next to me. "Are we going to discuss this or is it another one of those times I keep my mouth shut?"

I took a breath to deny everything, but surprisingly, only the truth came tumbling out.

"Wow," David said, after I finished. "I won't argue. You've got a vote from me in the 'that sucks' column. You know what I think you should do?"

"What is that?" I asked. My voice was downright eager because as of right now, I had no _idea_ what to do. I would have taken advice from a pet psychic.

"Run."

"Like move? Quit my job?" It seemed a little drastic, but I'll admit it was on my mind.

"No, let's run. Whenever I have a problem and I can't figure out what to do, I run until I can wrap my head around it," David said. He stood, holding out a hand to me.

"I don't know if I'm up for it today," I told him, hands in my lap. "And don't you have a job?"

"Don't you?" he asked. "I took the day off. I was up till 3 AM."

"I had Greg call in sick for me," I said. I slumped against the back of the couch.

"Come on, you can do it!" He picked me up, hands around my waist—sending a startled cry from my lips—and set me on my feet.

~~~~~

One shower, one pair of cutoff sweats and two jogging shoes later, we were running down the bike path near the house—a common running route we'd started taking.

I did feel better, though mostly because my headache had mellowed. I could also count on the running to kick up my endorphin levels and alleviate some of my depression.

"The thing is, there's really nothing I can do. It'll look bad if I go to Patricia and say, 'Hey, can I request a transfer, because Richard is my former boyfriend and he's kind of an ass.' And where would I transfer _to_? I don't want to work on _Call to War_. I hate games like that. I don't want to move down to LA—the nearest Titan Games branch. Or Texas. Or Canada."

"You want to stay around here, in other words," said David, lips pursed.

"Yeah, pretty much. I like my job. Or at least I _did_ until yesterday," I complained.

"Well, then it seems like you're going to have to be professional about it. Suck it up, as it were."

I sighed. "I know. I knew it yesterday. It's just, he was such a complete asshat that even the _idea_ of having to report to him irks me."

"The real world sucks, doesn't it?" David said.

"It wouldn't be so bad if I had my life together, but I've pretty much been a mess since he left." It was the first time I'd said the words out loud, admitted it to anyone. I felt like I'd just pulled my own rotten tooth out—hurt like hell, but I was probably better off.

"You mean emotionally?" David asked.

If I was confessing, I might as well go all the way. "In all the ways I can be a mess, I'm a mess. I stopped running, because he was the one that got me into racing. Until then I just did it for fun, with my friend Beth. I stopped wearing fancy schmancy clothes because he was the one who told me to dress up my work image. I stopped caring about how I looked because he was always promoting us to do the couple's diet stuff. We both weighed in and check our body fat. We both ate vegetarian. Our biggest couple activity was going to the gym.

"It wasn't until we broke up that I realized how much I hated all of it. Richard had so much drive and ambition and I sort of got roped into that. When he left, my life derailed hardcore. I didn't have anything of myself left to fall back on. Except for gaming and my love of Kdramas."

He busted up laughing and had to stop.

I was tempted to give him the mother of all shin kicks, but I let it go.

"Sorry," he gasped. "I was only laughing at the Kdrama part. And I'm allowed to because I'm half Korean."

I spit my tongue out at him and kept running. He caught up a few moments later and we resumed our jog.

### Chapter 10. The Piggy-Back Ride

" _Okay, you have to admit that having the girl do the traditional couples' piggyback is a hilarious reversal."_

" _Oh my God, it's the best. Seeing a tiny little thing like her hefting that drunken guy around is insane. He's like twice her size!"_

" _How is she doing that, anyway? Special effects?"_

We were just getting back to the house when my phone rang. It was Greg.

"Wanted to give you a heads up, Case. Parsons was not happy at your absence today. Apparently you were one of the first on his list for the 'one-on-one chats'."

"What?" I said and stumbled on the steps, phone flying onto the tiny front porch. I shrieked as my ankle twisted and David was at my elbow immediately, helping me sit up. He took my phone, which was miraculously unscathed and told Greg that I'd call him back later.

"Let me check you out here," he said, and took my ankle in a gentle pair of hands. "How does this feel?"

He worked my foot into several different positions, and discovered that I probably had a minor sprain but nothing more severe. David was just moving his thumb over my round ankle bone when I felt a shiver of recognition at the male hand touching my bare skin.

It was the first time I'd thought of him like that—outside of empirically noting his good looks—and I was startled by the idea that I could find him attractive in a personal way. As though he could read my thoughts, he looked up at me, thumb rubbing circles into my skin, eyes meeting mine.

It wasn't one of those sappy Kdrama "time froze" moments, but there was definitely a body-to-body communication thing happening. We entered a field of awareness, where I was suddenly observant of the proximity of his body to mine in an exciting way.

My breath quickened and I blinked. Then it was gone.

"Come on, I'll help you into the house," said David. Was it my imagination or did his voice sound deeper than usual? "We'll reenact a common Kdrama moment, 'The Piggyback Ride'."

He gave me that half-grin of his and slid to a crouch in front of me and grabbed my hands to wrap them around his neck. I stiffened, finding it awkward to be so close to him after my thoughts only moments before, but he seemed unaffected and hefted me up on his back.

I was surprised he could carry my bulk for any length of time, but he was gracious and plopped me gently on the couch. He went to the freezer for an icepack, then excused himself to his bedroom to shower and change. I tried very hard not to picture him, without clothing, wet, and in the shower. It goes without saying that I failed mightily.

~~~~~

It was a weird week. I didn't tell anyone about the moment with David, but I thought of it again and again, wondering if he thought of me as anything but a roommate. It was a long shot, but there was a part of me that was almost hoping he saw me as a woman, too.

In the meantime, I stopped avoiding my job and went back to work. When Richard did exactly what I expected and called me into his office first thing that morning, I told him the honest to God truth.

"I noticed you were out sick yesterday. Are you feeling better today, Casey?" He smiled at me with a look that showed me that he knew exactly why I'd been absent.

"Not really, Parsons," I said, neglecting to call him by his first name. His eyebrows rose at that, but he chose not to comment on it.

"I must say, your appearance is quite altered from the last time I saw you," he said. Well, that was stating the obvious.

_You mean the day before you abandoned me to an empty apartment and moved to Boston_ , I thought. I said nothing, choosing the shrug as a form of communication.

"What have you been up to in the last year?"

"Oh, you know, work stuff," I said. When I said nothing else, he sighed and rubbed his temples as though I was personally giving him a headache.

"Casey, I had really hoped that we would be able to mend fences and work well together. I hope this attitude isn't the best I can expect from you. Belligerence does _not_ become you."

I wanted to say so many, many things, but I settled for cool and polite. At least, I _hoped_ it was cool and polite.

"Of course I hope we can work well together. I've always admired your work ethic," I said. Both were technically true. "If you don't mind, I think, given our past, that we put all that behind us and start forward as though we've just met. Wouldn't that be easiest?"

He cocked his head at me, silently staring. It was one of his many intimidation techniques that didn't seem work on me anymore. Maybe it was the multitude of times I'd put up with his bullshit only to have him leave me in the end. Or maybe I was just too tired to care.

"I think that would be best," Richard agreed. "So let's talk about your work here. Patricia is very fond of you. Though I'll be frank, her excessive praise means I'll be holding you to a higher standard. Especially since she says your goals are to eventually rise within the company."

His subtle stressing of the word _excessive_ showed me that he doubted my worthiness of such praise. Another passive-aggressive tactic I'd seen him use in the past.

"I'm going to tell you what I've told everyone else," he continued. "There are three months until the next performance evaluation. In that time I will be observing you closely, in order to direct your career more effectively. This is not negative attention. I want everyone working here to fit into their proper place. Especially you, Casey."

I don't know if I was supposed to feel that way, but his comments chilled me to the bone. I left his office wondering if I should start working on my resume.

~~~~~

Wonder of wonders, David was actually home when I got off work that night. Most of the time he was either working or at the gym—his two most common evening activities. Up until a couple of weeks ago, any other leisure time was spent with Shannon. I guess the conversation I'd witnessed with his mother was the end of that.

To my surprise, he'd made me dinner. Weird.

"I thought you might need a listening ear after your first day working with the ex," he said and set down a plate of lightly braised vegetables on the table. There was also some kind of baked chicken dish that smelled wonderful and looked disgustingly low fat. I say disgustingly, because what I felt like right then was takeout Italian, heavy on the cheese sauce.

"It went as well as it could have. He tried to get me to talk about my personal life, but I wasn't biting. He also said that he was implementing a new dress code, to help remind people that we were working, not just messing around with video games. He did that at his last job and it was very well received by management. I'm sure the workers there felt the same way they did here—majorly annoyed."

"I can imagine," said David, eyeing my sweatshirt and jeans.

"It's nothing major. No t-shirts or sweatshirts anymore. Button-ups or polos are acceptable. Jeans are fine, but khakis are preferred. He also wants us to do more group stuff to cement us as a team. Besides the 'Best Of' we do at work," I said, and explained the practice to him.

"That sounds like a lot of fun," said David, smiling.

"It is, but apparently Richard thinks once a month barbecues at his house, and gaming marathons would be even more fun," I said.

"And if you want to skip out because you'd rather not spend any free time with your former lover?"

"Then I'll be outed as someone who doesn't want to be a team player. Which will be especially bad since I told him that he and I should pretend we have no past together."

"Oh, boy," he sighed and changed the subject.

Dinner was surprisingly good, healthy or not, and I reached across the table for some more of the perfectly seasoned greens.

"Let me," said David, grabbing the spoon as I did, causing our fingers to brush. I dropped it like a hot poker and felt my face flush.

Oh my God, what is my problem?

He didn't seem to notice, so I busied myself by getting up to pour more water from the pitcher in the fridge. I was shaking. Something was wrong here.

_It's just David_ , I told myself. _You've hung out a ton of times before and never felt like this. Get ahold of yourself._

"So when is the first barbecue? Do you want some moral support?" David asked. His warm brown eyes were sympathetic and I relaxed. It was just David. There was nothing to freak out about.

"Could you? That would be so great! I was thinking about asking Lola, but taking a guy would be a much better 'don't mess with me' indicator. No offense," I said.

"None taken. It really would," he said and we spent the rest of dinner planning my debut into casual work activities.

### Chapter 11. The Confrontation

" _Hello, and welcome to another episode of 'Confrontational Coffee'! Tonight we pair up our heroine and the biggest rival for the main man's affections. Ladies, is there anything you want to say?"_

" _Heroine: You can have him; I'm not interested in him, anyway."_

" _Rival Chick: My family is rich and powerful. I'm gorgeous, smart and better than you. Give up now."_

" _Heroine: Just because I'm rich doesn't mean I'm dirt."_

" _Rival-Chick: Yes it does."_

" _Heroine: I could take him from you any time I want, so back off!"_

" _Rival-Chick: I'd like to see you try."_

" _Heroine: Just watch me!"_

" _There you have it, folks. The gauntlet has been thrown! Thanks for watching!"_

We were sitting in my car, parked in the parking lot of Richard's condo complex. David was watching me, while I was fluctuating between terror and nausea. My hand was on the door, but I couldn't make myself open it.

"Ready?" David asked, still peering at me. His presence was a comfort, but I wondered how wise it was to bring a guy that was causing me to feel confusion to a party where a guy who was also causing me confusion was waiting for me to make an appearance.

"You don't have to go in," he said, when I was stone silent.

"I do. If I don't go in, my absence will be noted."

"But no one would blame you, if they knew."

"It doesn't really matter," I said and blew my bangs out of my eyes. "I can't be that weak in front of Richard."

He reached across and grabbed my hand, squeezing it. The touch of David's hands sent a thousand tingling receptors firing up and down my arm. My skin was wild and excited at making even that brief contact. As though he sensed my errant thoughts, David looked down at his fingers covering mine. He released them, glancing up at me. Of course, this is when I felt the heat start to flood my cheeks, making me feel like someone had blasted them for a few minutes with a blow dryer.

"Casey, there's something—" he started to say, when he was interrupted by a tap on the window.

It was Greg, holding a six pack of whatever microbrew of the moment he was into. He smiled.

"You guys coming in?" Greg asked and looked at me. He frowned when he saw the look on my face and walked around to my side. He opened the door a crack. "You don't have to do this, Casey. I don't care what Parsons said. No one should be subjected to this kind of emotional torture."

His comment was just dramatic enough that I had to laugh.

"It's not that bad," I said, realizing it for myself. "Come on, let's go in."

~~~~~

The house was far and away different than the apartment I had lived in with him before. That was a private place—a loft bedroom overlooking the high-ceilinged living room. No one except a few close friends and business associates had ever been there but me, in the time that we lived together.

This place was much larger. If the former apartment had been luxurious, this place was lavish. It opened up to a large formal room that housed living space as well as a dining area. We walked a path through the crowds of freshly washed programmers wearing their khaki best, and landed in a marbled deluxe kitchen that shared an open space with what would have been a more casual family room. If Richard hadn't lived there.

As it was, all the furniture was the same leather stuff he'd been partial to when we were together, just more of them. There was also color. The modern cubist painters with their monochrome palettes he favored had been traded for splashy and vivacious abstract pieces—to my surprise, many of them were Kandinsky.

Richard had gone all out for the party. The front living room had been set up with a gaming station, complete with large screen monitor. The family room was also set up for one on one action, although this was of the stand-and-move variety, rather than the sit-on-your-butt kind going on in the living room. The barbecue was under the care of a catering company, whose employees were busily prepping in the kitchen. Outside, an aproned woman manned the grill.

His yard here was huge, much larger than I would have thought, and open to the neighbors. There were white tables set up and many of the guys were eating and drinking. Even at a casual event like this, besides the caterers, I was one of the few women. I waved at a couple of the wives and girlfriends who _had_ shown up.

"Holy cow, this place is over the top," said David in low tones. He glanced around the family room, eyes landing on one of the sculptures in the bookcase. "Although, from your description, I expected something a little more... cold."

I nodded. "I know. It's weird. I can't put my finger on it, but something is definitely different about this place, besides its bigger size. See that Kandinsky over there? Richard always hated him. Said anyone who would purposely turn a painting upside down and decide it was better that way wasn't a true artist. I don't get it."

"Want a drink?" he asked and nodded to the long tub filled with ice outside.

"Anything without alcohol," I said.

"Really?" David asked, clearly surprised.

I had no intention of letting my guard down for even a second. This was definitely not the place to get screaming drunk.

"Yes, really. Water would be fine." In fact, I was sure that water was all my churning gut would be able to tolerate.

I waited for him to come back and watched two of my coworkers trying to beat each other at some race car game I'd never seen before. It was pretty hilarious watching two grown men jumping up and down in front of the screen like their lives depended on it.

"So, what do you think of the condo?"

What I thought was, " _Oh, crap"—_ which was not an answer to his question. I turned to see Richard in his idea of casual—khakis, dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, loose red tie that looked like someone had gutted him from stem to stern.

"It's... uh... it's different. Then your last place, I mean," I said, hurrying to add the last part so it didn't sound like a criticism.

He seemed pleased at my observation. "Yes, I guess you could say some of my tastes have changed in the past year."

I couldn't let that one go. "I noticed you have a lot of Kandinsky on your walls now."

Richard actually smiled. "You would. When I moved to Boston, somehow my walls seemed empty without him hanging on them."

It was like a stab to the heart, the painful jab. I stared at him, confused.

"Do you want a tour?" he asked, gray eyes boring into mine with the same intensity they had when we first met. At that time, I'd felt pursued. Now I felt hunted—like I'd walked into some sort of trap and the only way out was to gnaw my own leg off.

"I-I was waiting for my friend to bring me a drink," I said, turning to find my lifeline. Where in the heck was David?

Turns out he'd been waylaid by one of the event staff. Probably someone he'd worked with before. He stood there, a drink in each hand, looking like he was making an effort to extract himself without success. David glanced at me, saw my expression, and frowned.

Richard followed my gaze. "Is that your _friend_?" he asked.

"Yes, David is my friend. He's Greg's cousin. Greg is also my friend, as you remember." I said it deliberately, to turn the conversation, but Richard didn't seem particularly diverted.

"So, what's on the tour?" I asked. This did the trick and he glanced back at me, before gesturing me up the stairs.

_This is a mistake, a mistake_ , my brain screamed at me. What in God's name did I think I was doing, going somewhere private with him? The only thing that could possibly be up here was his bedroom. Did he want to show me his bedroom?

I followed him with a reluctance so strong that at one point I almost turned around and vaulted down the stairs and outside. I kept it together until we reached the master suite.

"I want to show you the view," he said and pushed a remote to open the blinds that covered the giant bedroom window. It was the city skyline and the bridge, pretty amazing actually. It must have been breathtaking at night.

"You should see it at night," he said as though reading my thoughts, his voice suddenly at my shoulder.

_Is that some kind of offer?_ I was starting to feel claustrophobic. The ceiling was too short and he was too close to my body. With a flash I remembered the first night I'd spent with him and felt a surge of animosity so strong that I mumbled what was possibly the most pathetic excuse ever and ran out the door and down the stairs.

### Chapter 12. The Collapse

" _Well, I certainly can't blame her. If I'd traveled through time and landed at the feet of a guy that good-looking, I think I'd faint, too."_

" _My only argument is, why faint? Why not just fall forward, and into his arms? Hahaha."_

" _Your lips could accidentally brush his face!"_

" _Your hands could fumble for a handhold and run across those amazing warrior biceps."_

" _All I have to say is, I really wish I was that close to him right now."_

My eyes were already filling as I hit the stairs running. The hallway in front of me blurred and my thoughts were a jumbled mess. Suddenly, there was David at the foot of them, looking up at me.

When my foot touched the floor, he took my hand, glanced both ways, and ushered me into the guest bathroom. He flipped on the light and the fan and locked the door. I just stood there, shaking, tears brimming over and running down to my chin in mini rivers of pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a low voice, to stay under the noise of the fan. "Did he do anything to you?"

I shook my head, still unable to speak. I kept my gulping sobs to a minimum, but it was pretty clear I wasn't going to be calming down any time soon.

All the tension left my body when David pulled me close. It was nice, so very nice, to be held. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been held by a man—probably when Richard and I were still dating. This was better because David's shoulders were more broad and closer to my height, so I could actually rest my head against him. Which I did.

He held me in that awkward brother/relative way, with two stiff arms and that jerky patting of the back that all men seem to think women want when they cry. I didn't care. It was so great of him, and my heart pitter-patted at me, demanding me to realize that I was leaning against his chest and smelling his skin.

When I finally pulled back, David asked me what had happened.

I explained about the paintings and the view and the confusing feelings of loathing and loss all mixed up together. He looked thoughtful.

"Did you ever think that maybe he came here for you?" David asked.

"What? No!" I said, hissing to keep my voice down.

"Think about it. He took a job in your company, working on your game. He threw a party that he _knew_ you'd be obligated to attend, giving him time to see you outside of work. He told you he missed the very paintings that he said he'd hated before. He implied he wanted to show you the view from his room at night. Those seem like pretty obvious signs to me."

_It couldn't be. Richard didn't care about me. Not one bit. He wouldn't have come all the way back from Boston just for me_ , I thought.

"What if he did, Casey? Would that be something you'd want? Would you want to be with him again?"

I shook my head. That was something I had no confusion over, despite lingering feelings from my past.

"When he left, he broke me apart. I was totally lost. But then I realized that I was never really happy with him. Richard and I weren't all that well matched.

"He was always harping on me about being fit, wearing certain clothes, acting a certain way. I never relaxed around him. He disapproved of my friends and the things that I liked—video games, Kdramas, lazing around on the weekends. After I got over my initial devastation, I sort of rebelled. I refused to do any of the things that he had insisted I do, and did all of the things he insisted I didn't."

I laughed. "Maybe I went a little too far," I looked over his shoulder at myself in the mirror.

He shook his head dismissively.

"Do you want to stay? Or should we sneak out of here?" David asked.

"Let's stay," I said, throwing my shoulders back like I was facing a war. "Promise me you'll be next to me for moral support the whole time."

"I'll even hold your hand if you want me to," he said, smiling at me.

The thought of that made my heart thump and I jerked a wee bit when he grabbed my hand in a friendly clasp. David looked out the door to make sure no one was watching then pulled me out behind him. Just as we were rounding the corner, Greg came along with a beer in his hand.

"Oh, hey guys," he said, looking from us to the bathroom, then down at our hands, still clasped.

I pulled my hand out of David's. "We were just about to play that racing game," I said. "Wanna join?"

"Sure," said Greg and we moved into the other room.

### Chapter 13. The First Touch of Finger Tips

" _Right there, right there. You see that look in both their eyes? Then he passes her the glass and there is that tiny moment when their fingers touch. And they just let it linger."_

" _I don't see why you had to rewind it just to show us that. We all saw it the first time."_

" _Because it's romantic, that's why."_

"So are you and David doing it now?"

I did one of those comedic "spit" takes that everyone thinks is so funny. I now had coffee all over my shirt, so it wasn't that funny to me.

"What?" I said, trying in vain to blot it out with a fast food napkin from my desk drawer.

"You went off to the bathroom together and came out holding hands. It's probably inevitable, a man and a woman living together. David's not like me. He's the good looking one in the family," Greg said.

Greg droned on and on until I was ready to shake him, talking so loudly that the other guys were practically craning their necks to see us.

"He was comforting me because I was crying, idiot," I said, in a soft voice. "The hand holding was a friendly gesture, nothing else."

"Oh, so you guys aren't..." his voice trailed off. I shook my head.

"Well, that's a relief," he said. "Because no offense, but you are so not the type of woman my aunt would approve of. I mean, you're a hard worker—which is good—but she wants the cream of the crop for her son."

"She seemed nice enough to me," I said.

"Oh, you've met her?"

"She fed me," I said, and chuckled to myself, thinking of our conversation about Kdramas.

"She probably doesn't think of you as a threat to her plans. Believe me, that would change in a hurry if you guys did hook up," he said. "I love my aunt, but she's got ideas."

He said that like she had poison, which made me smile.

"No one is dating anyone, so rest easy," I said.

"Would it be too much to ask for everyone to please keep their minds on their work?" said Richard's voice behind us.

I sunk down in my chair and mentally kicked myself for being caught doing anything but work by Richard. Who cares if I had been working busily until Greg's question? Richard was the boss, and I didn't want to give him anything to use against me.

Greg went back to his business, but Richard lingered, looking at my screen.

"What are you working on now?" he asked, leaning in.

I gulped and quickly compiled the code so he could see what I was coding. He made me walk through each iteration, and then questioned my progress.

"Isn't this what you were working on last week?"

I swallowed my anger and bitterness. "It's not exactly a small component of the game, Parsons. This is what dictates how the characters react to the game dynamics. It's probably the most difficult aspect of gameplay to code."

I said this last part with not a little pride. I'd worked my butt off to be entrusted with this kind of responsibility. Usually, we grunts just got bits and pieces of code to work on. I got the piece of code that had to interact with most of the others. It was basically bringing in all the other elements and making them fit together, like gears in a clock. Patricia and Raoul had put a lot of faith in me to get it right.

"Maybe we should consider breaking it up a little, in the interest of not clogging the pipeline."

"With all due respect, Parsons, I'm where the pipeline lets off."

"Hmm... well, I'll have to think about that, then," Richard said and wandered off.

My pulse was racing and I wanted to throw my coffee cup at his head.

"Don't piss him off," said Greg, under his breath.

"I can't believe he's talking about divvying up my project. Asshat," I whispered. If he even dared, I would wage a full-on war against him.

~~~~~

David was watching TV when I got home. I rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and plopped down next to him.

"Greg thinks we're sleeping together," I said, without ado.

As the words left my mouth, David choked on his beer and bent forward, coughing and gasping. I leaned over and peered into his face, confirming that he'd be fine.

"You okay? Don't worry; I assured him most emphatically that we were not. I mean, it's so obvious," I said, laughing like it was a big joke. David didn't smile back.

"Emphatically?"

"Well, you know. That you and I would _never_ , like not in a million years..." My voice trailed off because he wasn't looking pleased at my words. Odd.

"I'm sorry, did I say something out of line? He mentioned your mother being particular about the girls you date, so I just wanted to reassure him."

David's irritation seemed to vanish. "Ah, my mother," he said and sat up. He took another swig of beer and lay back against the couch. "She is pretty particular. But as long as that was your reason."

"What do you mean?" I had this feeling we were navigating into weird territory, which made me uncomfortable, but I still wanted to know.

He paused the show he was watching, set his drink down and turned to look at me.

"You just have this dumb idea, Casey, that you're unattractive. I thought you were protesting because you didn't think I would ever be interested in you."

"Oh." It was a small sound from my mouth. The only one I could make at that moment. My hands were trembling and I focused my gaze on my food. I raised the spoon to my mouth, mechanically, forcing myself to eat and forget the thoughts swirling through my brain. Of course it didn't work.

_So does that mean he thinks I'm attractive? Does that mean he_ is _interested in me?_

I wasn't sure I wanted the answers to either question, but then again, there was a part of me that was dying to ask.

After a few awkward seconds, he went back to the television and I made myself sit there, eating until I was finished. Then I washed my bowl and went upstairs to get ready for bed.

~~~~~

Sunday, the next day I saw him, was even weirder. He was all dressed up when he came down the stairs. I was in my Sunday finest eating a bowl of low-fat popcorn and playing _Little Big Planet_. He on the other hand, was wearing a suit and crisp green shirt—no tie, but a sexy undone button at the top, thank you very much.

"Work day?" I asked, glancing his way. The man was good enough to eat. It was almost criminal that I had to live with that hotness taunting me on a daily basis. My body's growing attraction to him wasn't helping me _at all_ in that department.

"You know it. I've got a little time, though. Thought I'd sit here next to you and watch you play for a bit."

I paused the game and scooted over, trying not to lean in and inhale whatever scent it was that he had on. It smelled great. The warmth from his body seemed to radiate through my sweatshirt and I felt the prickle of desire as it moved through me.

"How are things with Richard? Did you figure out why he's back?"

"Not unless it's harassing me at the office. He's been making noises that Patricia—the higher up over him—has given me too much responsibility. Basically, he wants to take me down a peg, I think. Does that indicate his unending love for me?" I snorted before he could answer.

"So you'll basically have to put in a ton of overtime to make sure your project is done early. Otherwise it might get taken from you."

"Probably. I refuse to give up my Sundays, though."

"I have to ask... when you're at work, putting in all the extra hours, where will Richard be?"

"He'll be at—" I stopped, realizing where David was headed. "He'll be at work. He's always at work." When we were dating, most of his nights were late nights.

"Sounds to me like this is just another way to spend more time with you. Clear indicator."

"No," I whispered. Damn it. I wanted nothing to do with Richard. Was he really looking for ways to spend time with me?

"It's pretty flattering, if you think about it. The question is: will it work?"

David sounded honestly curious, so I gave his question its due thought.

"I'm not going to act like Richard and I are without a past. There's also no denying that he is smart, good looking, and driven. But as I pointed out before, we didn't suit each other. Unless he's changed _a whole lot_ , I'm not interested," I finished.

"What if he has?"

I huffed, ignoring him and continued playing my game. David took my hand, covering the controller. I tried to yank it back, but he had quite the grip. We struggled for a minute until I let my arms go limp.

"Case, you can't run from the question forever."

I sighed, trying not to enjoy the warmth of his palm. "I really wish you'd stop being so reasonable all the time."

"No can do," he said, wide grin flitting across his face. "Maybe you should think about it some more."

I yanked back my arm. "I don't want to think about it. I don't care what he's done or how he's grown. He had his chance and he lost it when he left me with an empty apartment and a broken heart. Even if I forgave him that, I could never forget it. It was kind of a trust killer."

He nodded and looked pleased.

"What are you so happy about?"

"Huh? Oh man, I have to go, I'm gonna be late," he said. He squeezed my shoulder and left me with all sorts of disturbing thoughts about Richard.

### Chapter 14. The Angry Shin Kick

" _Is it wrong to find a woman so damn sexy?"_

" _Not when it's Ha Ji-won. She's so awesome!"_

" _I love it when she full on kicks him. Right...there! Ahahaha!"_

" _Angry shin kick for the win!"_

I was practicing the art of avoidance. I decided time and space could fix anything, so at work, whenever I saw Richard's head come into view, I ducked out and ran for the bathroom. It didn't always work, but it worked often enough to be worth it.

I think the office as a whole—Greg being my cover, and the exception—thought I had a disease of the bowels. Still, it kept down my Richard interludes to a minimum. Which isn't saying much, because that man seemed to be around every time I turned a corner. I was ducking behind hall plants to avoid him.

There was lots of avoidance in my personal life as well. The minor crush—yes, I admit it—had blossomed into something that had me sighing every time David came downstairs in his cutoff sweats and tank top. It was disturbing and I made myself get up extra early to run, so that I could avoid him. I told him it was because of my extended work hours that I was seeing him less around the apartment, but the truth was I couldn't face _his_ face.

"Hard at work?" I jumped halfway out of my seat, startled by Richard's voice behind me. _Damn it!_ I looked over at Greg, who was supposed to be my early warning system and was surprised to see that he was gone. In fact—to my extreme discomfort—I noticed that everyone was gone. I was the only one left. I tried to act casual.

"What time is it?" I stretched my arms and yawned, pushing back my seat enough that he had to back up.

"Around 1 a.m. Only the programmers get this kind of access, don't they?"

He was smiling. It was creepy.

"Yup. Thank God, tomorrow is Saturday. I'm going to sleep in," I said, and started saving my work and backing it up on the server. "I think I'll work from home tomorrow."

He sat back against Greg's desk, looking cool as a cucumber. How the man could look perfectly groomed, from his jet black hair to his polished shoes this late at night, I'll never know. I stood, nearly ready to leave.

"I forgot how stubborn you are. Still out to prove that you're capable of taking on the whole job, huh? You know, Casey, I'm not out to get you. I just want to make your load a little lighter. You don't have to carry it all by yourself."

I was tired and my neck hurt and I admit I lost my temper. I shoved my chair into my desk.

"You see! This is it, right here. I can't object, because you're my boss, even though I would _want_ to tell you exactly where to shove your good intentions. I have been working at this company for years and I love it. I _love_ it, Richard. And I don't appreciate you, of all people, coming in here and changing that."

He stood up, arms crossed. "Is this about you interviewing for the position originally?"

The question came out of left field and I paused for a second to get my bearings.

"What? No. Patricia said I wasn't ready for it. That was good enough for me," I said. "This is about you sticking your nose into my life. I don't get it, Richard. You knew I worked here and you came anyway. Why? I certainly didn't and _don't_ want you here. If your other job was so great, great enough for you to ditch me in the dust, why did you leave it? You should have just stayed there!"

I grabbed my purse and left him behind. He said my name, I think, but I kept going.

_Oh my God, I am going to get fired_ , I thought.

~~~~~

I was just leaving the house the next morning—late, when I heard the door open behind me.

"Good morning!" David's smile was a thing of beauty and it took my breath away.

"Uh..."

"Surprised to see me?" He was so cheeky about it, sneaking out after me. I laughed.

"A little. We haven't really run together lately, have we?"

"No time like the present," he said and led the way.

I followed slowly, cursing Richard for last night and David for this morning. Would I ever have a moment's peace?

"You've been working a lot of hours lately," said David after a long while. I had initially breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't seem like he wanted to talk, but it turned out he was just biding his time.

"Yup," was all I said.

"Work must be really busy right now. Your big project must be taking up a lot of time."

"Well, you know, I don't want Richard to take it away from me. It's mine. I earned it."

He nodded.

"I was thinking," he said. "I know you're running a lot earlier these days. On nights when I have an event I won't be able to join you, but I could go with you on the other days. Like we used to."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't say no, because then I'd have to explain why. I didn't want to say yes, either, because I needed to keep my distance and sort this whole mess out.

"Ah ha! There it is!" said David. He stopped in his tracks and pointed at me.

"What?" I said, looking down and around to see what he was talking about.

He moved into my personal space until we were almost bumping chests. I squeaked out, "What?" again.

"You're avoiding me! I knew I wasn't going crazy."

"Don't be silly," I said, then turned and started jogging forward again.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, and blocked my path. I started to go around him, but he grabbed me by the upper arms and held me in place. I refused to look him in the eye, but he ducked his head down and locked his gaze with mine. "What's going on, Casey? Did I offend you or something when we talked about Richard?"

"No, of course not!" I said, and then kicked myself for not grabbing on to the obvious and easy excuse.

"Then, what is it? Why don't you want to be around me anymore?"

I started to speak, but I didn't have any words, so I stopped. I tried again, but sighed instead.

Finally, I shoved his arms away. "I don't want to talk about it. It's nothing you've done, I'm going through some stuff right now, and being around you reminds me of that. I just need some space."

I ran ahead of him, but he was there the entire time, following me.

### Chapter 15. The Wide-Eyed Kiss

" _What is with her expression? You'd think she didn't know what a kiss is!"_

" _What do you think he's leaning in for, silly?"_

" _Close your eyes and enjoy it, girl!"_

When we got back to the house, I ran into the kitchen without pausing to take off my shoes like I usually do. I pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with icy water from the fridge, resisting the urge to douse myself in it. I just needed one moment to gather my thoughts.

"Hey, can I get one of those?" I heard the cupboard open and close and David set a glass on the counter next to me, sliding an arm alongside mine. I took a sip from my glass, gulping nervously as I realized he was now mere inches away. David's left arm reached around my other side as he took the pitcher in that hand to pour his own water. I was now, literally, caged in his arms.

I set my glass down and turned, but he wasn't moving. I tried to smile and move past him, but he didn't budge. I felt a prick of heat at the base of my neck when I realized how close his body was to mine.

David was smiling. He looked like a cat who'd found the cream stash. With an arm placed on either side of me where I leaned up against the counter, he paused to stare into my eyes.

Like a Kdrama flashback, I remembered that feeling I'd had when he helped me up on the steps. The world paused; I was lost in his gaze. He leaned forward and I closed my eyes.

I felt the smallest whisper of a kiss. His lips pressed against mine and moved away. I held my breath. David's lips moved against mine again, then away, as though he was tasting them. Then again, but a little longer this time.

My whole body seemed to melt in on itself and I moved forward, pressing kiss for kiss. Meanwhile, David's arms wrapped around me, settling against my back, fingers spread so I could feel their heat, pulling me toward him. Our heads tilted as the kiss deepened.

My body flushed with a rushing warmth that seemed to pour through my stomach, up into my neck and cheeks. I felt like I was burning up and a moan escaped me.

His mouth opened over mine and I received his tongue with a gentle suck. He made a noise deep in his throat and our tongues wrapped around each other, dancing and stabbing. David's hands slipped down my back and to the hem of my tank top, where they hovered before moving underneath and against the skin of my waist.

My own hands were around his back and grabbing on to him as though I would fall if he wasn't helping to hold me up. I gasped as he pulled away, my lips still slightly open, eyes wide.

David smiled again. "I knew it," he said and my gut clenched.

"This cannot happen," I said, shoving him aside. I ran from the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door behind me and flung myself on the bed, trying to calm down. I pushed my face into the pillow and flailed my arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum. I kicked my feet against the mattress and tried to release some of the steam pent up inside.

After a few minutes, I sat up and felt my still warm cheeks with my hands.

"Oh, my gosh," I said and closed my eyes as memories of the kiss washed over me. "Holy crap."

I sat there, staring at the wall, trying to think of anything remotely worthy of expending brain cells, but all I could think about was the way David always smelled—clean and warm.

I heard the sound of him grabbing his keys from the entry table, then the door opened and closed. After about five minutes, I stood up and opened my door.

"Gah!" I said, looking down at him sitting against the wall across from my room. That earned me a half-grin and a wave.

"I know, fake out, right? Sorry," he said, patting the ground next to him.

"What in God's name are you doing there? Camping out for me?"

"I know you, Casey. You're not big on the emotional confrontations. Especially after what Richard did." He bent a knee and looped his elbow around it, waiting for me to sit.

So I did, across from him, legs folded, refusing to speak.

"I thought that was a pretty good kiss," he said. Then he laughed and shook his head, dark hair swishing across his eyes. "No, it was a _damn good_ kiss."

His teeth seemed so white as he smiled. I remained silent, picking at the carpet, trying not to meet his gaze.

"So?" I said, shrugging. "No offense, David, but I'm not looking for life complications right now. And starting an affair with my roommate is kind of a large life complication. I don't believe in that friends with benefits crap everyone else seems okay with."

He nodded and moved next to me.

"Understandable," he said. "And I agree. Casual sex between roommates seems impossible. But, maybe there are other choices we can make."

I shook my blond, pony-tailed head. "I don't think so. If we start dating, and things go the way of that kiss, how long do you think it will be before we're in bed together?"

He sighed and rubbed a hand along his neck, drawing my attention to those muscled shoulders.

"Probably not long," said David.

"Exactly! Then we're right back in the territory that I don't want to be in."

"The thing is, Case," he looked up at me from a fringe of dark lashes, brown eyes studying my face. "The thing is—all I can think about right now is how much I want to taste those lips of yours again."

I swallowed, a blush flooding over my face. Was it just me or did someone turn up the heater today?

"This is precisely my point," I said, edging away from him, toward my door.

"I know. You're absolutely right," he agreed, nodding. He followed me, shoulders and arms coming dangerously close to touching me. I scooted faster.

"Any attraction, if acted on, only becomes stronger and stronger," I said. My butt bumped the door.

"I certainly can't argue with you there," said David, arms on either side of me as he pulled himself forward. If I could just reach up and grab the doorknob...

My arm came up as his face leaned toward mine and he was left with a mouthful of my neck instead of the lips he was aiming for. David didn't seem to mind, though, and nibbled his way up, sending prickles of electricity over my skin wherever his lips happened to touch.

"Um..."

Kiss.

"In situations like this..."

Kiss.

"It's better..."

Kiss.

"If..." My voice kept trailing off as his lips pressed against my flesh. I was having the hardest time holding a coherent thought.

"Hmmm..." said David, teeth gently pulling on my ear. I panted, ragged gasps escaping my lips. My hands grabbed at his shirt, fingers clenched on cotton, when his lips met mine.

There was no slow moving this time. His lips devoured mine and I whimpered and slid my arms around him, returning each kiss. In no time at all, I had forgotten why this was such a bad idea and enjoyed, instead, the rush of pleasure forming down by my belly. When his fingers brushed my skin again, skipping lightly over the soft folds of my stomach, and inching up toward my bra, the alarm bells started ringing in my brain.

I shoved him back—like I had before—and ran down the stairs and out the door. I left without my keys, my purse or anything else. I just ran.

### Chapter 16. The Cute Shopping Trip

" _If there's one thing Kdramas love more than a makeover, it's a shopping trip."_

" _It's a couple's shopping trip, you mean!"_

" _Here, honey, let's go to the mall. Let's look at lots of clothes and shoes and jewelry together."_

" _Because we love each other."_

" _Because we love shopping!"_

"Here, try on these."

"A dress, Lo? Really? Do I seem like the kind of girl to wear a dress to work?"

Lola shook her head, the dark shawl of perfect, straight hair swished at her shoulders as she laughed. Today's clothing choice was an obscenely short black skirt, tight maroon leather jacket with black studs all over it, and mile-high heels, also black. She looked like she had walked out from the screen of one of her favorite dramas.

"It's not necessarily for work. I just love the figure you're sporting lately. It's like this curvy sexy thing. Have you been dieting?"

Here it came, confession time.

"No, I've actually been running again."

Lola turned from sifting through the racks next to me, her mouth open. Then she bounced up and down on her toes. She looked like a little girl who'd just been promised an ice cream cone.

"Really, Case? That's great! Did you find your box when David moved in?"

She was so happy. Part of me wondered how hard it had been for her to watch my slide into mediocrity.

"David found it. We've been running in the mornings, sometimes. Or I run by myself. I forgot how much I loved it," I said, and realized it was the truth. Of all the things I gave up when Richard left, running should never have wound up on the list.

"Well, you look better than you have in months. You should tell Beth. She's missed having you as her running partner. Unless you'd rather run with David," she said and shot me a sideways glance, eyebrows lifting.

I fumbled for an answer, stuttering to a halt.

"Oh my God, Casey, I know that look. Something happened, didn't it?" she asked, hand on my arm.

"I'm going to go try these on," I said, and made a beeline for the dressing room. The problem was, she was still holding onto my arm.

"Leggo!" I said, trying to shake her off. The girl had a grip like the proverbial Man of Steel.

"I'm not leaving your side until you tell me," Lola insisted, not even bothering to keep her voice down.

She followed me right into the dressing room, and sat on the seat while I stripped down.

"Fine! We kissed, okay?" I said, throwing my shirt to the floor. I tried on the emerald shirt she'd picked out—which looked great against my fair skin, I had to admit.

"What? When? How was it? Answer the last one first!"

"Yesterday. It was unexpected. I mean, totally out of nowhere. He didn't say anything. He just leaned in and did it."

"So did you... like it, then?" She shook her head at the next shirt choice; it was a no go, apparently.

"Lola, to be honest, I've never had a better kiss. It was probably the most perfect kiss of my life. Sexy, passionate, toe-tingling good." It felt good to admit it to someone. That kiss with David had blown all my other kisses off the map.

"Did you guys talk about it?"

"I tried. I told him that I wasn't interested in being in a relationship. That I thought roommates trying to date was a bad idea."

"Yeah, probably," Lola agreed. She held out the dress for me to try on.

"He listened for about a minute, agreed with everything I said, and then kissed me again."

She laughed, a tinkling sound that echoed through the small space.

"Typical man."

"I had to get out of there after that. So I went running and when I came back, he was gone. I don't know what to say. I was serious when I told him that I don't want to date, but he didn't really seem to believe me."

Lola pursed her lips, considering the dress. The beige scoop neck looked great over my boobs, hugging my waist with a wide black sash. The skirt poofed out just enough to be fun without pointing out the size of my hips. Thank God it didn't have cap sleeves to dig into my arms. "I think it's a winner, what do you think?"

"The dress looks great. What am I going to do about David?"

"I don't know. He must have felt the chemistry, too. Honestly, Case, are you just afraid that David will pull a stunt like Richard did? Because I don't think that's going to happen. If nothing else, you can use his cousin to beat the crap out of him."

"No, I don't think David's like that, necessarily. I just... I'm just tired. I don't want to think about that stuff anymore. It's too complicated."

"Oh, honey," she said, and put her arms around me. "Life _is_ complicated."

~~~~~

It certainly seemed so. I continued to work in my normally professional manner. I made sure I was never alone again, but I stopped trying to avoid Richard during the day. Instead, I was my most courteous and professional, to the point where Greg even turned to me and asked if Richard had bribed me to be nice.

"Nope, I'm just rising above," I said, and turned back to my work. _Rising above so hard he won't know what's hit him_ , I thought.

I got a call on my work extension.

"Patricia would like to see you," said her assistant.

_That can't be good_ , I thought and made my way down to her.

I opened the door to her office and she smiled at me.

"Casey, please, have a seat," she said. "You look lovely this morning."

"Thank you," I said. I was wearing one of my new outfits, a long beige suede skirt and the emerald green shirt that Lola had signed off on. Thank God, for the sake of my pocket book, we'd done our shopping at the outlets.

"So, Casey, I've been talking with Richard about the new project. He seems concerned about your workload. How are you feeling?"

_That bastard,_ I thought. He was so passive aggressive. I decided not to play his game and went for the honest approach.

"I'm not going to lie, Patricia. I took on a big job. I'm working a lot of hours right now, sometimes late, but I knew what I was taking on. This is why I love my job. I get to pour myself into my work and see the big payoff when everything fits together.

"Remember how you told me I was lacking that spark I had before. Well, guess what? I've gotten it back! I'm motivated and ready to prove myself." I smiled, realizing it was true. All this craziness with Richard had made me ready to fight for the career that I loved.

"Well, Richard's concern, and mine too, is that when the big push comes, you'll be too tired to perform."

Ah, the big push. Right before a game launch, it was common for a company to put in crazy hours to get a product out on time. It was an industry wide phenomenon.

"My hope is that if I do this part well, our big push will be a lot easier." I started to outline what I was doing currently, how far I'd gotten and how much I had left to do. We talked about how the overall game was going and discussed each gameplay element. By the time we were finished, she seemed convinced that I had it together. It had only taken an hour and 25 minutes to do it. Sigh.

~~~~~

I was just digging around in the fridge when David got back from the gym. He walked into the kitchen, gave me a killer smile and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

"Oh, hey," I said, and gave him a timid smile.

He burst out laughing.

"You should see your face right now. So awkward, like you have no idea what to do with yourself."

I frowned and spit my tongue out at him.

"Fine, then," I said, and turned to ignore him.

"You don't have to be all freaked out, Case. I'm not planning on jumping you."

"Could have fooled me," I said. I boiled a pot of water for ramen and started cutting veggies to cook in a pan.

"Let's just call that the heat of the moment," he said.

I snorted, and added the noodles to the pot with the seasoning packet. David sniffed in appreciation.

"That smells great. I don't suppose you'd like to share some with me?" He gave me the pleading eyes.

"Sure, if you promise to keep your hands to yourself." I said, pulling two bowls from the cabinet.

"I promise. No more fun business unless it's your idea," David said and pulled up to the table.

"You mean funny business," I corrected.

"I don't know. It seemed more fun than funny to me," he said and laughed at his own joke.

I shook my head and joined him at the table, feeling relieved that I could keep him at an arm's length. There was some disappointment in there too, but I was ignoring it.

### Chapter 17. The River Han

" _Why does he always bring her here when he wants to dump on her?"_

" _The Koreans believe that nothing good ever happens by the River Han."_

" _So, it's like symbolic then?"_

" _Apparently. Or he's just an asshat."_

" _I vote for the latter."_

"It's done! It's done!" I crowed to myself. Three long weeks of overtime and stress to get here, but it was finally done. And Richard could seriously suck it. In fact, I thought a little bit of gloating was in order.

"Does anyone know if Richard is in the office?" I asked the room at large.

"Saw him headed there after lunch," said a voice after a chorus of "no" and "nuh-uh".

"What do you want to see him for?" asked Greg. "You okay?"

I smiled. "I'm better than okay. I finished my code!"

I sauntered to his office, humming on the way. It was a good day and I was a super genius. I felt like doing one of those silly maniacal villain laughs before twirling my nonexistent mustache.

I saw Richard sitting at his desk through the glass and gave a sharp rap at his door, entering when he told me to.

"Casey," he said, looking puzzled. "I'm glad you came in. We should—"

I cut him off, since I was certain he wanted to dump on me about the project again.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm finished," I said, and put a USB drive on his desk. "Here is my documentation: pseudo code, functional analysis, and a brief overview of how everything will work moving forward. I think this could be something we implement from now on.

"The code is with Q&A right now, and although I anticipate some minor fixes, I've done enough testing to be sure that it's basically finished."

Richard didn't smile. He didn't look pleased.

"Casey, sit down," he said. "We need to talk about your attitude at work lately."

I sat. "My attitude?"

"I brought up my concerns with Patricia and when she called you in, you dismissed them out of hand. Moreover you convinced her to let you continue down your hair-brained and inadvisable road to ruin—"

I lowered my voice, because otherwise I was sure I would scream at him.

"It was not ruinous. I think that USB proves it. And I didn't convince Patricia to let me do anything. Rather, I presented her my side of the story, spent about an hour doing it, I might add. I gave her _all_ the information, not just some biased piece of it.

"Is it my fault she knows me and my work well enough that she took my side? Really, Richard, that is so petty of you."

"Petty? I'll remind you, Casey, that this entire programming division is my responsibility. Any element that breaks down could result in weeks of problems for all of us. I was doing my _job_ , which is to make sure everything is flowing well, that no one gets burnt out before we even get to the big push. I'm really disappointed that you can't seem to believe I have your best interests at heart."

" _I'm_ really disappointed that you can't stop trying to put me in my proper place, which is underneath your heel," I said, all reason gone. "It's like you want us to be right back where we were when we were together. You call the shots and I just follow along, doing exactly what you tell me to. I dress a certain way, look a certain way, believe what you tell me to. Anything else is outside the realm of imagining."

He slammed a hand down on his desk. It was the first time I'd ever seen him display such temper. Richard was usually cold and calm.

"Enough! Since it seems like we can't work together, we have limited options. And like it or not, I did get hired here. I'm not leaving. But you'll find that I'm not unreasonable. I'd be happy to transfer you to _Call to War_ , if you'd like."

That stopped me in my tracks. I felt a cold chill make its way down my spine.

"What? What are you talking about?" I asked.

"We can't work together, so I'm giving you other options."

"I don't want other options. I want to work on Cyber Chef, like I have been thus far. I don't want to work on a stupid shooting game that uses pretty much no imagination or storytelling."

"Well, I'm afraid your chance to work on this game has passed. So let me give you your choices. You can transfer to _Call to War_. You can transfer to a different office. I hear the one in Texas is nice. Or you can quit. I'll give you until Monday to make up your mind," Richard said, and went back to his paperwork.

"No way! This is _my_ job. _Mine_. I'll go to Patricia. I'll tell her all about the fact that we dated and you're holding it against me."

"Patricia knows all about our past, Casey. I confessed the truth to her myself when it seemed as though you were going to give me difficulties. She knew I had reservations, but she assured me that you'd be able to move beyond our past and act professionally. You can imagine how surprised she'll be when you show up at her office hysterically ranting and raving about that very thing. Go ahead. End your career today," he said.

I shut up then, out of ideas and words. I left the USB on his desk, turned and walked out of the office. By the time I got to my desk I was fuming and barely holding back my tears.

"Casey, what's wrong?" said Greg.

"I can't," I said. Then I grabbed my purse and drove home.

### Chapter 18. The Dip into Skinship

" _What I love about the word skinship is that it means so many things: kissing, hugging, touching, sex. It's an all-encompassing word."_

" _And it's extremely sexy."_

There wasn't enough wine in my house. You can't get drunk on half a bottle. Dammit. I thought back, trying to remember if I'd dipped into my stash without knowing it. It was hard to think seriously about alcohol when I just wanted to be sloshed already.

"Richard, you are a jerk of the highest order. You are a bastard who deserves to feel the pain of a thousand fiery suns. You-you-" my voice cut off as I tried to think of something else to say, but the memory of my confrontation with the world's worst boss set off the tears again.

I could hardly drive home, thanks to those tears. And when I did get home, to my dark and empty apartment—thank _God_ there was no one around to witness my shame—I'd gone directly to the cupboard to grab a bottle of wine. Of which there were none. That sent me to the fridge for a bottle of soju. Of which there were none.

The front door opened as I pulled the half-pushed in cork with a muffled pop. David walked into the kitchen as I was holding the bottle mouth directly to my thirsty lips, guzzling for all I was worth.

"What the—"

I put up a hand to hold off his unwanted questions. I took my bottle toward the stairs.

"I need chocolate," I muttered and went up to break into my secret office stash. Even though I'd taken off about 20lbs thanks to running again, there was no way I was giving up my treats. However, I didn't want to be shamed for them, so I hid them away from any nosy eyes.

I took another gulp of wine, starting to feel the buzz of alcohol on an empty stomach. I still wasn't drunk, but at least I wasn't fully sober. I dug out a box of assorted and slid to the ground—opened container of chocolates on one side of me, mostly empty bottle of wine on the other.

"Casey?" David had come up the stairs and was standing in the doorway staring down at me with wide eyes and furrowed brows. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing," I said, like a woman who had not a care in the world. My red face and wet eyes did little to prove my case.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing except my rat bastard of an ex, not content with spoiling my personal life for all of eternity, has now moved on to my professional life. He has tortured me for the past 4 months, trying to take away my pet project, demeaning me in front of my coworkers, undermining my authority and now... now he's decided to turf me out of the game I've been working on religiously for the past year. He wants to send me over to work on _Call to War_." I said the last part as though Richard was trying to get me to eat dog poop.

David sat next to me, shoulder to shoulder.

"That seriously sucks," he said and reached down to take one of my chocolates.

His solidarity made my eyes water and I gasped in humiliation at the wetness cascading down my cheeks.

"Will that bastard ever stop ruining my life? Seriously, why couldn't he have stayed in Boston? Why did he have to take a job in my company, in my department and make my life a living hell?" I gulped the air in quiet breaths, trying to suppress the ugly sobs fighting for attention.

David slid an arm around my shoulder and pressed my face into his chest.

I gave up trying to hold back my crying and let go like a big baby. Through it all, David patted my back, murmured comforting nonsense, and waited for the storm to blow over.

Many minutes later, when I could breathe again and talk in a semi-normal voice, he stood up, offering me a hand. I placed my palm in his and he led me to the bathroom, where he ran the water, rummaged around for a washcloth, and wiped my face with cold water. It was the single nicest thing a guy had ever done for me.

I stared at him in wonder as he gently dabbed my cheeks, swiped across my eyes, and wiped my nose. David rubbed the last bit of chocolate off my lips, then he set down the washcloth and turned off the water.

"Feel better now?" he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders, thumbs circling little atoms of comfort into my skin.

I nodded, still looking at him. I looked into his kind brown eyes. My glance wandered down his perfect nose, over his high cheekbones and landed on his mouth.

I started to say something as he pulled back and he stopped, looking down at me. Again—as there had been the day he helped me on the steps—something palpable seemed to crackle between us and for the first time, I moved before he did.

My lips kissed his, pressing earnestly, excitedly. His hands pushed my shoulders back and I saw his frown.

"Casey, I don't think—"

"Don't think. Don't think," I said and kissed him again, licking his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. He tasted like chocolate and nougat.

David didn't argue, only slid his arms from my shoulders to my back, and pulled me against his chest.

I felt like every moment since we'd first met in that coffee shop had led up to this. My first glimpse of him sitting at the small table, a cup of coffee in front of him. Our fingers brushing as I passed a game controller to him. The feeling of his hand on my skin as he checked my ankle. Moving past him to get something from the fridge. Our first kiss, then our second, and now our third, pushing us further and further past the point of no return.

He led me to his bedroom and we spent the next minutes helping relieve each other of the strange impediment our clothing had become. I'd never noticed how much I hated a pair of pants the way I did now. The more of it that hit the ground—his shirt, mine, shoes, socks, pants—the more anxious we became to get rid of it all. Still, I enjoyed the feeling of his hands moving over my body as each item left me. Until finally, we were skin to skin in bed, sliding across each other.

I thought I'd be more self-conscious, with this person who'd been my friend and was now something else. My body was far from perfect, and I had yet to make it back to pre-Richard-rejection perfection. David didn't give me time to think about anything but his hands roaming over me, cupping my breasts, tracing the line of my hip bone—which was finally starting to pop out again.

We kissed over and over, legs intertwined, and I felt his hardness against my leg. It set my heart racing and I reached down to feel it for myself.

David drew in a sharp breath.

"Wait a minute, will you? I'm trying to keep it together here," he said, and grabbed my hand to hold it above my head and out of the danger zone. I protested until his mouth moved over my nipple, then I promptly forgot what I'd been complaining about and arched my back.

"Mmm..." I said, taking a handful of his hair with my free hand to push him at the other breast. He obliged without complaint, licking the little pink bud until I was wriggling wildly underneath him. If he kept this up, I wasn't going to last long, either.

David's hands stroked the outside of my thighs as he suckled, running hot fingers in circular patterns of distraction. I knew what I wanted now, and spread my legs for him. He glanced up from the rosy peak he was currently giving his attention to, and smiled with that adorable half-grin at me.

"So impatient," he laughed.

_Oh my God, that husky laugh of his is going to end me,_ I thought. Then I started begging.

"Please," I said, lifting my hips toward him, rubbing against the place I was sure would give me the most pleasure.

David ignored me, and starting biting his way down to my belly button, to one hip bone and then the other. He cupped my bottom with his hands and blew a hot breath across the hair between my legs and I shuddered, pleading again to feel him inside of me. He kissed my inner thighs and paused over me, reveling in the desperation in my voice.

Then he licked me and I lost all reason.

Luckily, he saw how ready I was, and lost it too.

"Holy crap, you are so wet," he said and came up to balance above me, while he put on a condom. I almost screamed in frustration.

"Yes, so could you please—"

My voice broke off into a moan as he slid inside of me. We jockeyed for position, briefly, trying to fit our bodies together, trying to find the perfect rhythm with a new partner. Then like a key in a lock, everything just seemed to _fit_ and we moved in unison, gasping together.

The room seemed to narrow down to us, the feel of friction between our bodies. The skin against skin contact drove me higher and higher. The mountain I climbed got harder and harder, until I felt the familiar startling surrender of release slide over me. Starting deep in my bones, it shuddered through every muscle, every nerve ending in my body, and every cell of my skin.

I cried out, eyes shut tight and his own cry followed shortly after. The rhythm slowed, then stopped and David let himself fall, limp, next to me. He slipped out, jerked off the condom to throw in the bedside trash, and pulled me into his arms.

When our breathing slowed, I realized after a few minutes that he had gone to sleep.

_Typical man_ , I said, shaking my head. I glanced at the clock and carefully moved out of his embrace.

I looked down at his beautiful naked body, tangled in the sheets, and felt a sucker punch to the stomach.

"Casey Peters, _what have you done_?" I asked myself.

### Chapter 19. The Wrist Grab

" _I love the wrist grab. It's so strong and commanding."_

" _Pah. You have to be careful. Sometimes it just makes you look like a dick. In my opinion it only works when followed by something sweet, like a hug."_

" _Or an amazing kiss! Lee Min Ho, anyone?"_

" _Lee Min Ho!"_

"You did what?!" Lola said, spitting out a mouth full of soju. She coughed and coughed, leaning over the table in her apartment. Joan pounded her on the back, brown braid swaying with each thwack of her hand.

Beth was grinning, ear to ear. "Someone owes me money," she sang.

Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Excuse me?"

"I bet those two that you'd hook up with David. They didn't believe me, but I saw the way he looked at you."

We all stared at her. "How did he look at her?" asked Joan.

Beth shrugged, light glancing off the frames of her glasses. "I don't know how to describe it. It's like, he was _aware_. Like he could feel that her body and his shared the same space."

My face heated as I thought about the space David's body and mine had shared only hours before. I tried to push such thoughts out of my mind, but they remained, with warmth, under my skin.

My phone buzzed and I glanced at the screen. It was a text from David.

Still running, Casey?

Lola looked at it over my shoulder and cracked up, hooting. "He sure does know you, doesn't he?"

"Shut up," I told her. "Just shut up, okay. I don't want to deal with it."

"Then why did you tell us?" asked Joan, leaning forward to pin me down with her bright blue eyes.

"Because I needed to ask someone for help. I need someone to advise me. What should I do now?"

The table was silent, until Beth spoke up.

"Date him?"

Just those two words sent me straight to the soju. I poured a shot and guzzled it down.

"Why in the hell does that scare you so much?" asked Joan. She poured me another shot.

"Richard," said Beth and Lola together.

"Richard," I whispered, nodding. "The idea of living with a guy, a _boyfriend_ again gives me hives. I was doing so well until today, and then he just swooped right in with those warm brown eyes and all that niceness and I caved. It was totally my fault. He pulled back and I went in for the kill. Why am I such an idiot?"

"You were having a bad day," said Beth. "Nothing like a hot man to turn around a bad day."

Which was something else I had to face. How was I going to deal with my work situation?

~~~~~

"Done hiding?"

I jumped, scattering my bags, tripped over the shoes in the doorway and had to put my hand on the wall to steady myself.

"D-David, uh, hi," I stammered out, avoiding his gaze. I was just coming home from Beth's house the next day, nursing a headache and a killer case of the blues.

David stalked down the stairs like he was the hunter and I was the helpless gazelle.

"Honestly, Casey. Sometimes I wonder how you ever had a serious relationship. Every time I think we've made some progress, you run as fast as you can in the other direction. What are you so afraid of?" He was standing in front of me now, and he helped me pick up my things, then leaned in to kiss me.

I backed up a step.

"What is it now?" he asked, voice thin.

"I have some stuff to tell you," I said. "Give me a minute to put my things away, will you?"

I looked at him then, silently pleading for patience and ran upstairs to put my things away.

David was waiting in the kitchen with a bottle of water when I came down. I noticed that he was fresh from a run, hair damp and curling at the edges, cheeks flushed.

I sat down at the bar, placing my palms down on the cold counter top. I took a deep breath, met his eyes, and dove in.

"I'm quitting my job," I said.

"What? Casey, are you crazy? That's just what he wants!" David slammed his water down on the counter, scrambling for a towel when the water splooshed upwards and over the rim.

"Well, then, he's got it. They're not going to fire him and I don't want to work on a first person shooter. You _know_ how I feel about them. So, I did some calling around and a friend of mine has a job at Crystal Animatics in Redwood City. The company is going to give me a signing bonus so I'll give that to you for the remaining rent and the deposit and find a place closer to my new job.

"I'm interviewing next week, but Keith is certain that I'll get it. They need someone with a few years of experience, but all they get is either graduates or overqualified industry managers. What they want—and have the money for—is someone in between. This is a good thing for me."

"Wait, you're moving out?" The puppy dog look on his face made this harder, sure, but it had to be done.

"David, what happened the other day..."

"Don't."

I ignored him. "It was wonderful."

That clearly surprised him. He waited for me to continue.

"But it was for all the wrong reasons. I was feeling down and low on self-esteem. I wanted to feel good again, if only for a little while. I shouldn't have done it."

"You're lying."

I looked at him, shook my head.

"I'm not. I'm being completely honest."

"You couldn't be honest about this if you tried. You're so freaking terrified of another Richard that you don't even take the time to notice the differences between us. I'm not Richard, Case. When will you finally understand that?"

I was shaking, so I put my hands in my lap and willed my voice to stay steady.

"I already know you're not Richard, and I've been truthful about all of my reservations regarding a relationship between the two of us. This is me, talking about when we had sex."

"And how you used me."

"Yes." I stood and pushed the stool back. I started to leave the room.

"Wait," he said, grabbing my arm. I looked up at him, fearing the words I knew were about to leave his mouth, hoping that he wouldn't say them.

"What happens when you leave?" he asked.

"Huh?" I tried to look innocent.

"Between the two of us, what happens when you leave? Do we keep seeing each other? We won't be living together anymore, so there shouldn't be any reason we can't date." His look dared me to answer and the words wouldn't come.

"Well..." I started, then stopped when I looked into his face.

"I knew it! You're so full of it, Casey. Do me a favor, try to sell someone else your crap, because I'm not buying it."

He took my other arm and pulled me in for a hard kiss that burned my lips and filled my body with the rush of wanting. Then he released me with a jerk.

"For once in your life, will you just _fight_ for something? Even if it's for your job and not me. Just fight. Don't run anymore."

With that he stomped from the room and up the stairs, leaving me teary-eyed and regretful in the kitchen behind him. Still, I didn't move a step toward those stairs. Not one step.

### Chapter 20. The Separation

" _They call this Noble Idiot Syndrome."_

" _What?"_

" _You know, where the good guy holds himself apart from the girl while she gets her life together."_

On Monday morning, I put on my new dress—the two-tone black and beige number that hugged my thinner but still prominent curves. I paired it with a shiny black blazer and killer stilettos I'd borrowed from Lola. I left my hair down, and went for the steam straightened look. If Richard had decided he'd be seeing the last of me, I was going to give him an eyeful before I went.

I kept my head high as I walked the halls, careful to ignore the double-takes at my changed appearance and the side comments by some of my shocked co-workers. As I approached Richard's office, I took a deep breath, ran my sweaty palms down the sides of my dress, and knocked on the door.

I entered on his command and sat down. He glanced up casually as though to continue his work, but it was noticeable—to me, at least—that he was unable to turn his eyes away from me.

"Casey?" he asked. "What's going on?"

I crossed my legs, put a hand on either armrest, and leaned forward.

"Didn't you say that you wanted my answer today?" I asked, and tilted my head with an arched eyebrow. I was amazed at how calm I felt, now that I was in the room with him. Even though there was a part of me that wanted to run my heel through his sternum.

"You're right. I did. What is your answer?" He put on his most business-like stare, but I saw right through it now.

"My answer is no. No to being transferred. No to quitting. I like my job, and I have every intention of staying in it."

One thing about living with someone for so long is that they can't use the same masks with you that seem to work with everyone else. For instance, most people would think that Richard remained emotionless at my words, but I could tell that he was livid.

"I don't believe you staying here was up for discussion," he said, voice quiet.

"I don't believe I asked for your opinion. You may be my boss, and I may have to report to you, but I'm not going to let your obvious bias ruin a job that I love. I'm going to work here and put up with your crap, but rest assured, I'm staying. If you even _think_ about getting rid of me, or feeding Patricia a line of crap about what I'm capable of—when you haven't seen me in action for even 6 months—I will make you pay."

"Oh, really? And how do you propose to do that, Casey? As you pointed out, I'm your boss."

"Richard, you seem to have forgotten that I lived with you for over a year. You seem to have forgotten all the many, many things I know about you that you might like to keep secret from the people you work with," I said, smiling at him like the pitiful creature he was.

The blood drained from his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, between clenched teeth.

"Oh, you know what I mean. I can think of a dozen just off the top of my head. Your weight in college, for instance. Would you believe that I actually have pictures? I took the liberty of calling your mother yesterday. I told her that we were going to do a 'Welcome to the Company' slideshow and that I could use a bunch of pictures for it." I held up one of them, a picture of Richard at his cousin's wedding, where he was a good 150 pounds overweight.

He snatched it out of my hand. "Don't even think about it!"

"It's the age of Facebook and Twitter, Parsons. All I'd have to do is send out an email to a few of my close and personal former work friends and word would get around here faster than a wildfire. And not just about your weight. How about the fact that you wet the bed until you were 17 and had to go on medication? Or maybe I could post these pictures of you and your prom date? I could describe—in detail—what you were like in bed or the odd grunting noises you always made when we had sex.

"And those are just a few of them. Really, this is an argument you can't win. So please do us both a favor and don't even try."

"What do you want? Just to keep your job?" he asked.

"No, not just that," I said and placed my palms on the desk. "I want my job, and the respect I deserve as a valued member of this team. I've worked my ass off to get here and I think I'm entitled to it. I have no problems with you as my boss, as long as we can come to an understanding that I won't be pushed around or treated like a subpar performer just because I used to date you and you have some vendetta against me."

He nodded, looking more miserable than I'd seen him look in a long time. It was glorious.

"Fine. You'll get what you want, but you better hope the guys you work with don't start liking me more than you, or you'll have some major leverage problems." He shook his head and was I crazy that I saw some grudging respect there? "I've never seen you like this, Casey. What in the world has gotten into you?"

I stood, trying desperately not to wobble on my killer heels. "It's simple, Richard. I'll tolerate a lot, but there is always a line for me. You crossed it."

I walked to the door, hand on the doorknob. I turned back to look one more time at his unhappy face.

"You know, you never told me why you came back. I doubt it was for career advancement," I said, and shrugged. "Ah, well. It doesn't matter to me in least, anymore. Oh, and by the way, I'm taking today as a vacation day."

I opened the door and left, head still high.

### Chapter 21. The Run of Desperation

" _I've seen this a million times before, but Lee Seung-Gi is the only guy who makes me laugh when he does it."_

" _He looks so desperate. Like he's saying to himself, 'Even though I have no idea where my beloved is, I must run all over creation to find her."_

It was early afternoon by the time I got home, having run around town to get some errands done. I'd spent so much time plotting what I was going to say and do this morning that I had neglected most of my usual weekend chores.

I decided, to celebrate my success, that I would take a long run. I was feeling so great that I took my time, savoring the contraction and expansion of my muscles in the cold. My ponytail bobbed behind me, my feet moved to the rhythm of the music I was listening to through my little white earbuds.

I rounded the last corner, jogged through the parking lot of my apartment complex, and headed toward my house in the waning afternoon light.

I pulled up short as I saw a pair of long legs hanging down over my steps. They led up to a fit and muscular chest and the handsome face of Richard. _Why is Richard waiting on my porch?_

He looked up and saw me, standing up quickly. Richard gave me a tight smile and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to walk up the stairs and unlock my door.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, fumbling with the keys.

I opened the door and slipped inside, intending to close it on him. Richard put a hand on the door to hold it open.

"We need to talk, Casey. Please," he said. His face was earnest—resonating with actual feeling for once—so I acquiesced.

"Fine," I said, and opened the door to let him in.

I gestured for him to have a seat in the living room and he looked around with interest.

"This is a nice place. Your style has changed since that dinky place you lived in before you moved in with me. Still obsessed with Kandinsky, I see," he said and smiled at me like we were two conspirators.

"So, have you come to confess your sins?" I asked.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Confess, yes. Sins, no. Always so dramatic. I missed that. I missed you, Casey."

I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on them. I didn't reply. If he wanted to say something, I wasn't going to give him any help.

"It took about a day, actually. I was settled in to my new place, had just started my new job and it hit me full force. I'd made a huge mistake. I tried for a year to deny it, threw myself into my work, dated every attractive woman I came across.

"None of it helped, of course. The truth was, I had run from you, trying to deny my feelings, but in the end they wouldn't be ignored."

I'd been staring at the floor during this monologue, but when he mentioned feelings, my eyes met his in shock.

"It's true. I know I hid it well. I couldn't face it, so I took the job in Boston. I convinced myself that if I could just get away from you for a while, the love I felt would fade away. I was an idiot, obviously, because the longer I stayed there, the more I wanted to be with you."

My knees dropped, feet hitting the floor with a slap.

"I saw the job listing in your company and thought to myself that it was the perfect opportunity. I could work for your company and work to win you back. But when I got there, you were a mess. You looked sloppy and uncaring—the antithesis of everything you had been before. I didn't know what to do about it, since it was obviously my fault."

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.

"I felt guilty and I took it out on you. Instead of doing what I should have—apologizing on my knees for being such a fool—I pushed at you like an immature kid. I poked and prodded you, as though if I could get you to lose your temper, I could prove to myself that it wasn't all my fault.

"I'm sorry, Casey."

I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to do, anyway? Did he want me to absolve him? I didn't want to think about him or his feelings. After all, he hadn't thought about mine, when he'd abandoned me with a freaking note to say goodbye.

I sprang up from my chair like I'd been flung from it.

"Well, thanks for that, Richard, I guess. I don't see what it changes, but I suppose if it made you feel better, then that's fine." I walked away from him and back toward the door.

"Casey, wait. I didn't just come to apologize for my behavior," he caught up to me and slipped an arm around my waist, another around my back. He pulled me close and my spine straightened. I pushed my hands against his arms. Richard put his lips up to my ear.

"Please, Casey. I'm going crazy without you. I know I was the worst boyfriend in the world and that I don't deserve a second chance, but I have to ask anyway," he said. He slid his hands up my arms to cup my face—his own moved till it was a mere breath away from mine. "I love you, Casey. Please say you'll give me another chance to prove it to you. Please."

This was a Richard I didn't recognize. He was so removed from the polished and perfect man I'd looked up to while we dated and then despised when we were over.

"Richard, I'm sorry, really I am. But I can't," I whispered. I pulled back, but he held me fast.

"Why? Maybe if you take some time to think it over, you'll change your mind," he said.

"I won't. Even if I could forget the whole empty-apartment-left-just-a-note part of our story, the truth is, I've moved on. There is someone else in my life now," I said. It wasn't a love confession, but it was the truth.

"I don't believe you. You're just saying that to get back at me," Richard said. As though he wanted to prove it, he leaned in and kissed me with more passion than he'd ever shown before. His lips moved over mine and his arms encircled me again, cradling me against his chest.

I pushed back, freeing myself from his embrace. He started to say something, but was interrupted by a voice behind us.

"Case?"

It was David.

### Chapter 22. The Love Confession

" _Awww... look at the balloons."_

" _No, Look at the ring tied to the string of one of those balloons. So cute!"_

" _Why don't American men to that?"_

" _Because they're smart enough to realize that those balloons could escape her hand and fly off with the ring. Which they just did."_

" _No, they're too dumb to realize the power of a true romantic gesture."_

I turned and saw David standing at the door, hurt look on his face. I rushed to his side.

"No, no. It's not like that, I swear," I said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Casey, is he your boyfriend?" asked Richard, striding forward.

It was all happening so fast, and my head was spinning. I didn't know what to say or who to say it to first.

"Yes, I am," said David, before I could get a word out. "What the hell are you doing in my house, kissing her, Parsons?"

"I see. So you were telling the truth," said Richard, looking from David to me. "I'll go then."

Shoulders slumped, he made his way out the door, pausing to look back at me. David put an arm around my waist and drew me to his side. I'm not going to lie, it was kinda sexy.

"I'm sorry, Casey, truly," said Richard, and closed the door behind him.

I sighed when he left and turned to David.

"Thanks," I said. "He was really unbelievable, showing up here like that. I—"

David kissed me, sending all thoughts of Richard flying from my brain. He bit my lower lip and slid his tongue in my mouth, marking it as his own. His hands, meanwhile, were moving over my body with a familiarity I was fast coming to appreciate. They slid up my stomach and cupped my breasts, slipping inside my bra to caress my nipples. I moaned, and let my head fall back, which he took as an invitation to kiss and suck his way down my neck.

He pushed me against the wall next to the door, and starting stripping me. I thanked my lucky stars that the only windows were high up near the ceiling, or else my neighbors would have been getting quite a view.

With each item of clothing he removed, David kissed the new bare spot he revealed. My stomach first, then the top of my heaving breasts. One shoulder and then the other, my arm, the crook of my elbow, the palm of my hand. My bra, and the kissing turned to sucking, as little moans escaped my mouth. He turned me gently to face the wall, and pulled down my running shorts, kissing the dimple in my back right above my butt. I stepped out of them, and gasped as his hands ran up my calves, my thighs, my hips, and waist. He cupped me in his palm and kissed the back of my neck, holding a breast in his other hand as I shuddered.

I was pretty much naked at this point, while he was still wearing a suit. Expressing my dissatisfaction, I turned back around and kissed him, taking a moment to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. He slipped them off and worked the buckle of his belt, while I rubbed his crotch over his pants.

When his clothes were gone as well, we stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom and fell into each other.

It was a long time later that he turned to me—wrapped more in his arms than the sheets—and asked, "So, what was all that about?"

"Oh, you were right. He came back for me, apparently, and his method of self-expression included my humiliation." I nestled my head into his shoulder and let my fingers trace patterns across his bare chest.

"And that kiss?" He didn't sound angry, only amused. After all, he got my naked body. How did Richard really do, in comparison?

"His way of trying to prove I still have feelings for him. Sadly, as we are both aware, he was wrong. There's a part of me that sort of pities him," I said. I kissed the underside of David's chin, savoring his clean scent.

"I'm kind of afraid to ask, simply because you're nude and in my bed and I'd like to keep you here, but have you thought about what I said?"

I nodded. "You're right. About the running. After Richard, everything just seemed easier to deal with if I could avoid it instead of facing it. In time, I forgot that there was any other way of living. To my own detriment."

I raised myself up on my elbows and looked down at his happy face. I smiled and kissed him.

"I don't think I'm ready to talk about happily ever after, but I wouldn't mind calling you my boyfriend. If that works for you," I said and sank my head back to his shoulder.

"That definitely works for me," he said, and kissed the top of my head.

~~~~~

Girls' night was a raucous affair, once again at my house, and filled with the smells of good food and the sounds of women's laughter. We were all sitting around the TV, supposedly trying to decide what series to watch next, but mostly just gossiping.

"Oh my God, that is so steamy," said Beth, pretending to fan herself like she was experiencing her own personal heat wave. "Hot, hot, hot. Makes me wish I had a boyfriend right now."

Lola snorted. "I have a boyfriend, and I can tell you, it's been months since Eric has done anything like that. When I get home, he's getting a piece of my mind. Then I'm going to strip him down and have my way with him!" She looked so determined that we all cracked up. Leave it to Lola to make sex into something for her to do list.

"What about you, Joan?" I asked, noticing how quiet she was. She was smiling, but she also seemed more like she was doing it because we all were, not because she found it that funny.

"Oh, honey. I've got a toddler and a teething baby at my house. How much sex do you think I'm getting right now?" She looked rueful, but there was an edge behind her words that made me sit up and take notice.

"Not a lot?" I guessed. I hadn't thought about how hard it must be to keep a sexual relationship going when you had a marriage and babies to maintain. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was nowhere near that point in my life right now.

"It's been four months," she said, tears in her eyes. The festive mood left the room and we all stared at her.

"Four months? But you're married!" protested Beth.

Joan laughed, but it was not a happy sound. "What the hell does that have to do with anything? It's not like I meant it to happen. When Jack got that promotion he started working longer hours and with running after the boys all day and getting little to no sleep at night, there's just never time."

"It seems to me, if you really wanted to make time, you would," said Beth, with all the wisdom of a single woman.

"What do you know? You're not married. You don't have children. You have no idea what I'm going through. Sometimes I wonder if Jack and I can make it through this. Are we even meant to be together?"

"Of course you are. Jack loves you, I know he does," I said, putting a hand on her arm.

She sighed and leaned against my shoulder.

"Let's not talk about it anymore. I want to see Cha Seung Won's beautiful body in the shower!" said Joan.

I complied and put in the first disk.

~~~~~

Later that night, I was snuggled in David's bed, with my e-reader. Or trying to, anyway. Joan's words kept coming back to me. David had had an office party with a particularly difficult client, and by the time he got home, my friends were gone and he was in a foul mood.

He had snapped at me and I'd told him to hit the showers and calm down, and to give him credit he had. Was that what marriage was like? Was it like living with someone or were there more stakes involved? Living with Richard had been no picnic, but I'd never once thought of leaving him. Would that have been different if we'd gone four months without having sex?

David walked into the room naked. Yum. He was toweling his hair dry.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, sitting down next to me.

_Your nude body,_ I thought, but said, "Marriage."

"Whoa. You? Casey Peters? How did this come about?"

"I think my friend Joan's marriage is in trouble," I said, without giving away any of her personal information.

"That's awful. That happened to my friend Mike, like a year ago. I felt so bad for him. It really made me think hard about what I wanted for my own life."

"Really? I've been thinking about that, too. Since Joan, I mean," I said.

"What did you decide on?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I think it's unrealistic to feel like everything should always go smoothly. Sexual attraction is nice, but there are things that interfere, like kids and work..."

"And adorable roommates who run at the first sign of commitment?" he asked, leaning in to kiss me.

"Yeah, that too. I guess you just have to be willing to work hard at it, to put in the time and effort to keep things going," I concluded.

"Sounds like good advice for everyone to follow," said David, as he pulled the e-reader out of my lap.

"You always agree with me when you're trying to have your way with me," I complained, sliding underneath him as he climbed on top of me.

"That's true," he agreed, and we both laughed. "I guess that bodes well for our relationship, doesn't it?"

I nodded and kissed him, and we both honestly didn't think about anything else but each other after that.

### The End

### Look for the next book in the Kdrama Chronicles due out soon!

Hi there, and thanks for reading! As an indie author, I appreciate every person who takes the time to read my work. If you liked this story, or you positively hated it, please go to Goodreads and leave a review. Honest reviews are hard to come by these days. Thank you.

**Also, I appreciate comments or feedback in the form of email. You can send them to me at:** crimsonsyrus@gmail.com

**If you enjoyed The Runaway Roommate, and would like to be informed of upcoming Naughty Niblets, you can join my mailing list, here:** http://eepurl.com/sqMHD

### Some Notes on Korean Dramas:

For the purposes of ease, I've kept to English where possible, because the Romanization of Hangul characters is always under debate.

Each of the chapter headings is a common trope of Kdramas. The original list I came up with, for the purposes of chapters, was 41! I imagine American TV is just as rife with them, but the truth is, the Korean dramas are far more entertaining to my mind. I don't claim to be an expert on Korean culture or even Korean dramas. I'm just a big fan. I found a variety of helpful websites online, but by far the best website on Kdramas around is www.dramabeans.com

This website has a variety of recaps, reviews, news stories and other bits of Korean culture to help grow your own obsession with Korean television!

### Acknowledgments:

Books take a crew of capable people outside of the author. I would like to thank my beta readers, Jenn, Nicky, and Cole for your words of wisdom on flow and sexiness. I would also like to thank my cover designer, the incomparable Bethel Stoddard for the fantastic cover and cool cartoony author pic. Thanks also to my cats, Rodgers and Hammerstein, who spend most of their time in my lap trying to prevent me from writing. And of course, there is my husband, without whom all my sexy time writing would be sadly lacking in passion.

