My Roommate's Dad: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Read online

“Well, no,” he admits. “I caught a few episodes of one or two when I was younger. I don’t exactly have the time for casual shows anymore.”

  “Wait, really?” I ask. “What do you do to relax?”

  “Watch art films,” he says, and shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “I know that makes me sound like I’m either massively pretentious or a nerd, but I actually really enjoy them. And they help with work, of course.”

  “Right.” I nod understandingly, then duck my head again. It’s so easy with Finn. It’s always like this – how we can slip into casual conversation like that, without even thinking about it. We can talk about anything and anyone. Even when we should be worried, should be focusing on the matter at hand. Even when we shouldn’t be talking at all.

  “Look, I just needed to see you,” Finn says, getting serious again. “I… Candy, I can’t let this be the end of things. Not like this. I need to see you again.”

  “You’re seeing me now,” I say, lifting my head but not my eyes. I can’t bear to meet his gaze, just in case I crumble and tell him that I can’t wait to see him again either. “So, whatever it is you wanted to say, just say it. Then we can have this all over with and get on with our lives, and try to put things right.”

  “Candy, no,” Finn says. He takes a sharp breath and then shakes his head in my peripheral vision. “I can’t just let it go like this. Not without giving it a chance.”

  “A chance?” I repeat. “Didn’t we already have that? We gave this a chance, and it blew up in both of our faces. I’ve lost my best friend, and you’re in danger of losing your daughter. Especially if she knows we’re meeting again.”

  “I know.” Finn sighs, resting his hands on the table in front of me. They reach almost all the way over to me but not quite, as if he’s hesitant about crossing that last bit of distance. I certainly feel hesitant about reaching out and closing the gap. “I just can’t stop thinking about you. The way I feel – I know we’ve only known each other a short time, but I can’t just ignore this. I feel so much more for you than I imagined I ever would for anyone. I can’t let this go to waste. Candy, we could have something so special here. I want you to be mine.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” I ask, only just holding back from snapping. “No matter how much we may want this, we have to think about the consequences. About the people who could get hurt – including ourselves.”

  “It’s worth it,” Finn says, then ducks his head slightly. “Any pain I feel, I mean. The last thing I want is to hurt you or Lexie.”

  “Then why are you here?” I ask. “You know how upset Alex would be if she knew.”

  “I know, I know.” Finn sighs, then rubs his forehead with two fingers. “I know that this doesn’t make sense. I can’t explain it. But what I’m about to ask you – I have to ask. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t.”

  “What is it?” I ask, my mouth feeling dry. If he can forgive himself for what we’ve already done, then I hate to think what it might be that is so important he wouldn’t be able to.

  “I want you to give me a chance this weekend,” he says. “Let’s have the weekend we were planning. Nothing has changed – we still need to keep it quiet, especially from Lexie. And this weekend still gives us the chance to do that. She won’t have to know. You can say you’ve gone home to your parents – if you even need to tell her anything – and I can make excuses about working late. She doesn’t even have to know that I’ve left the city. Please?”

  I think about what to say to that. I’m divided in two. Part of me knows that this is wrong, and getting more wrong by the minute. I shouldn’t be here, and I certainly shouldn’t be talking to him. But to contemplate going away with him this weekend, against Alex’s wishes, and lying to her yet again, would be even worse than that. It’s just about the worst thing we could do, at this moment in time.

  But on the other hand, I see the logic. If we go away together and we can’t work this out, then she doesn’t have to know. I go back to being her roommate, he goes back to being her father, and we never have to cross paths again. We can tell her that we respected her decision not to see each other again.

  And if we go away together and we do work this out, and we do decide that being together is important enough to try to fix things with Alex, then we know that we have to try. Right now, that could make a huge difference. It would stop me from wondering whether or not walking away was the right thing. I would know for sure.

  And there’s also the fact that I still really want to go – that I always wanted to go. I never stopped. But that fills me with new guilt the reminder that I’m only doing this because it’s what I want to do. It’s selfish. I shouldn’t be following my own wishes at the expense of Alex’s feelings. That’s not what friends do.

  And around and around again it goes in my head, until I know I just have to stop thinking about it and go with my gut. I have to give him the answer that makes the most sense to me – whether good or bad. I have to make this decision now, and there’s no time to carry on thinking about it, torturing myself, getting nowhere.

  I open my mouth to give him my answer, knowing in my heart that it’s the only decision that I can take without leaving myself feeling that I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Finn

  I hang on tenterhooks, just waiting for her to say something. It feels like the silence stretches out forever. I see different expressions flitting across her face, her eyes flicking up and down and to the side, following some thought pattern that I can’t see. But then she looks up at me and opens her mouth, and despite the wait, a flare of nerves has me almost wishing she would draw it out longer.

  Especially if she’s going to say no.

  “I’ll come with you,” she says quickly. “This weekend – let’s do it. We need to know whether this could work before we try to force it to work with Alex.”

  I resist the urge to punch the air and yell in victory, partly because I don’t think the other patrons of the café would appreciate it and partly because – even though it’s been twenty years since I dated – I’m simply not a college kid anymore. I should be playing it cool – but not so cool that she doesn’t know how happy she’s made me.

  “Thank you,” I say, beaming as I lean forward to press one of her hands in mine – not afraid to touch her any longer. Though I won’t push it, I know now that she won’t pull away. Not from something as slight as this. “Really, thank you. Even that much is enough. I can’t wait to spend this weekend with you.”

  She smiles slightly, enough so that I know that – despite her fears about the way Lexie might react down the line, or that this isn’t right – she feels happy about the idea of being together. “We shouldn’t spend too much time together before then,” she says. “Just in case. Everyone’s talking about us on campus. I don’t think it would take too long for word to get back to Alex.”

  “Of course.” I draw away from her now and get up from my chair, adjusting my suit jacket as I go. I lean down to kiss her on the forehead, just once, quick and almost chaste, so that no one could accuse us of impropriety. It might be interpreted just as a goodbye. A quick glance around the room tells me that no one is watching. “At any rate, I have to go and make some plans now.”

  “Oh, of course,” Candy says, her cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t think about that. Is there even enough time to have everything ready?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I assure her. “I have an assistant who can handle things at the gallery. That means I have all day to get everything sorted out. I usually find that anything can be booked at short notice, so long as you’re willing to pay.”

  Candy bites her lip. “I… I feel bad. Do you need me to put anything toward the bookings?”

  I laugh. “You, pay? No. Candy, maybe it’s because I’m older, but I’m a little old fashioned. I’m the one who invited you on this trip, so I’ll pay for it. You don’t even have to bring anything with you – I mean it
. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Alright,” she says, though a little doubt remains in her tone. I hope to cure her of that by the end of the weekend, too. If she’s going to be with me, she’s going to have to get used to having me spend money on her. I didn’t work this hard for twenty years just to keep all of my money in a bank. I have some set aside in a retirement fund, some as a wedding fund for Lexie, and the rest is all mine to spend as I wish. And I do wish.

  “I’ll see you Saturday morning – early,” I tell her, turning to walk away. “Pack light. You won’t need much where we’re going.”

  I leave the café, unable to resist one last glance through the large glass windows in the front of the building, to see her still watching me go. I nod at her once and I feel my spirits lift when she smiles back.

  I feel like I’m stuck on a rollercoaster. I feel awful about Lexie but excited about Candy. I’m sad that I have to leave her now, but elated that we’ll spend the weekend together. All of this restless energy, thankfully, has an outlet, plans for the two of us. And I have some big plans that might just take me all of the time I have left to put into place.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Candy

  If Alex had come home at any point this week, it might have made things difficult. I would have had to pack secretly, maybe while she was in the bathroom, keeping the bag hidden until it was time to go. Then I would have had to sneak out of the room at the crack of dawn, trying not to wake her so that she wouldn’t be able to ask where I was going.

  But Alex hasn’t come back to the dorm at all – not even to pick up her things. I can’t stop looking at her empty bed, her study materials scattered across the desk on her side of the room. Her closet is still full of clothes. And yet she hasn’t come back or even sent anyone else to get things for her. I can’t stop worrying about her, hoping that she’s okay. Every day, I’ve sent her a message asking, but she never replies. At this point, I’m not expecting her to. I just hope that she isn’t having too terrible of a time.

  I’ve seen her in class, but she always arrives at the last minute and then takes a seat near the door, far away from me. When the class ends, she escapes before I can catch her. Even when I choose to sit nearer to the door in order to catch her, she somehow manages to get past me in the rush. I guess she’s not ready to see me yet, and I just have to respect that.

  Especially since I’m not respecting the other part of her wishes, by spending more time with her Dad.

  I grab my bag and head out into the early morning sunlight, dazzling where it shines off car windshields and the windows of the buildings around. It’s almost eerie to be walking around this early on a Saturday, the campus mostly empty, only a few people wandering the paths.

  But there is one person here I can’t miss, standing in the parking lot, leaning against his car. In black as always, though this time looking much more relaxed in black jeans and a black shirt, open at the collar, with no tie. Finn, waiting for me. As soon as he sees me, he rushes forward to take my bags from my hands – even though they’re only light, as per his instructions – and puts them away in the trunk of the car.

  “Get in,” he says, but when I move towards the passenger side door, he shakes his head. “Not there. In the back.”

  “Why?” I ask, frowning, though I do as I’m told. When I get in, I can see why immediately.

  “This is Bernard,” Finn says, gesturing towards the man in the driver’s seat as he joins me in the back. “He’ll be taking us wherever we need to go this weekend. I figured that would give me more time to spend one on one with you, and cut down on the need to think about logistics.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I say, giving a half-laugh. It’s still absolutely astounding to me, the kind of things that Finn can afford. I can barely afford to run a car – which is why I don’t have mine here – while he can afford not only a much nicer car but even someone to drive it for him. “Wow. I’ve never had a chauffeur before.”

  “Well, maybe you should think about getting used to it,” Finn says. “I hire Bernard from time to time when I have long journeys to make, or if I want to go to a party and don’t want to worry about getting home after a drink. It makes things so much easier.”

  “I can see how that could be the case,” I say. I glance around at the passing scenery, the city starting to fade away as we head towards the outskirts and beyond. It feels very strange to be sitting here with another man driving the car, while we’re in the back like kids. Then again, on the other hand, it feels pretty cool – and it puts me in mind of certain films or television shows I’ve seen, usually with a fair few hints about what people might get up to in the back of a chauffeured car…

  “Hey,” I whisper, leaning over and stroking my fingers over the back of his hand. “Is it true, what they show on TV? About what people get up to in back seats?”

  Finn smirks. “You may have watched too many teen movies,” he says. “But then again, I suppose it can’t be unheard of. Someone somewhere must have done it. But with someone else watching? Worse than that, an employee? I think that probably constitutes workplace harassment.”

  I stifle a giggle, even though he might have ruined my romantic image – it’s funny to hear him point out the reality of a situation that I hadn’t really properly considered. “I didn’t think of that,” I whisper back. “Poor Bernard.”

  “Well, maybe not so poor in this case, since he’d get to take a look at your body,” Finn says. He leans over and kisses my neck, sending a shudder running down my spine. “Which is something to be envious of indeed. In fact, I can hardly wait to get a full look at it, myself.”

  “Wait – are you saying you want to…?” I ask, running hot under the collar as Finn’s breath tickles my neck. God, I want to. I don’t even care who sees. One touch of his kiss on my skin and I go completely crazy. I’ll do whatever he wants me to.

  Finn draws back with a twinkle in his eye, leaving me pouting. “Not yet,” he says. “There’s plenty of time for that, believe me. And we don’t have to do it with an audience. Unless, you discover you like that kind of thing – in which case we can discuss it in a mature and adult setting, as is appropriate.”

  I roll my eyes at him with a grin. “Fine, fine. This better be worth it, Finn. I hope you have a good reason to leave me wanting more.”

  “Oh, I do,” Finn, says, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss it before clasping it on the seat between us. “Believe me, you’re going to be glad we waited. After all, we have the whole weekend. Why rush into the main event? We have all the time we need.”

  “Alright,” I say, glad simply to be holding his hand for the time being. “I trust you.”

  And, even though we got caught last time, I still do. I trust him. And I can’t wait to see what he has in store for us today and tomorrow.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Finn

  The town I booked for our stay is known for several things, one of which is being obscenely expensive. Everything here is overpriced, from the rooms, the restaurant to the designer clothing stores on Main Street.

  But the quality of the experience you get more than makes up for that. From the concierge who takes our bags for us – simply those and not ourselves, because we have some more stops to make before we come back to explore the room – to the uniformed helpers at seemingly every turn, even out on the street, this town was made for people with money.

  Which is why it’s a good thing I have a lot of it.

  I’m not intending to keep any of it back today, either. I reach out for Candy’s hand and put it over my arm, so I can escort her as we stroll down the main street, looking at the designer boutiques on either side of the road.

  “Where do you want to go?” I ask her. “My treat. You can pick out anything.”

  Candy blushes. “Oh, no,” she says. “I couldn’t ask you to pay for that.”

  I give her a look. “You’re not asking. I’m offering. So, come on. What do you want to try?�
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  Candy looks down at the floor, the redness in her cheeks intensifying. “I can’t,” she says again.

  “Yes, you can,” I tell her. “How about here?” I point to the next store, home to an expensive Italian couture brand with a famous name.

  Candy shakes her head silently. I pause, realizing that she actually looks more upset than embarrassed, and draw her aside so I can look into her face. “What is it?”

  “Those places…” Candy bites her lip, unable to look me in the eye. “They don’t sell clothes in the right size for girls like me.”

  Ah. That’s what the problem is? I smile, trying to show her that there’s nothing to be afraid of. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “You think all of their clients are only stick insects? Rich people can eat, too. They have more sizes than you would think.”

  “I don’t know,” Candy says.

  I hesitate. I can understand why she might not want to risk it when she would feel very embarrassed to be caught out if there was nothing in her size. But I think I know a way I can stop that from happening. “There’s a store at the end of the street,” I tell her. “Bigger than these. It does menswear and womenswear, covering a number of different brands. I’ve been there for clothing from time to time since they cater to all shapes and sizes.”

  Candy looks up at me, frowning. “But you’re…”

  “I’m in shape, yes,” I say, then grin and flex one of my arms. “But the average couture model is a teenager with no muscles. I have these to wrap.”

  Candy’s hand slips over my bicep, almost as if without realizing it, and squeezes the firmness of my muscles. I have to tell myself to keep it together. We’ve got a way to go yet before I can rip her clothes off.

  “Come on,” I tell her. “The personal stylists there can pick out something that will suit you, no matter what you look like. With a body like yours, they’ll have a field day. You’re going to look so incredible.”

  Candy brightens a little and allows me to lead her down the street until we step inside. There, I greet my usual stylist, a man who in turn recommends us someone from womenswear who comes highly rated. I sit down in an armchair and grab a men’s health and style magazine from the side table outside the dressing rooms, prepared to wait for as long as it takes for Candy to go through the styling process.