UNDONE BY LESLIE MCADAM
My new roommate has the worst taste in men.
I mean, Murph’s special. He’s funny and flamboyant and full of life.
While I’m straight, even I can tell these guys aren’t good enough for him.
I had to yell at one date, toss another one out the door, and throw a beer in another’s face.
Kind of embarrassing, really. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.
I ask my sister what’s wrong with me and she says I’m jealous.
Jealous? Please. Me?
Come on.
Only thing is, I hate the thought of Murph kissing any guy. Ever.
Except, maybe ... me?
Undone is a contemporary m/m romance about a dreamy insurance agent that might not be as straight as he thinks, an adorable bartender who adds sparkle wherever he goes, and maybe one or two jokes about swords.
Opening the bathroom door, I exit to go to my bedroom to get dressed.
Murph is sitting cross-legged on his floor across the hall, surrounded by piles of neatly folded clothes. His legs look bony in his jeans, and his lean arms are fussing with fabric. His dark head tilts up as he hears me, and I don’t miss the slow sweep of his eyes from my head to my feet, lingering on my torso and my towel.
A missed drop of water trails down my chest, and I wipe it away.
Murph licks his lips. I can almost see the resolve on his face as he swivels his head, picking up a stack of shirts and setting them to the side.
It takes all my acting ability to maintain a poker face until I get to my room.
I’m going to have to get used to that. I don’t usually mind being ogled—not that there’s that much to ogle, though I stay in decent shape by running and keeping active.
Dropping my towel, I step into navy blue sweats.
Does it bother me that Murph looked at me that way? Like he wanted to have me for dinner instead of the baked ziti I’m planning to make?
I tug a battered old gray T-shirt over my head while I consider the question. Because now that I’m living with a guy who’s into guys, I have to sort out my thoughts on the matter.
If my roommate were a woman and she checked me out, would it bother me?
No. I’d be flattered.
So I guess I’m flattered by him as well. This doesn’t have to be complicated.
I take my towel into the bathroom and hang it up. Murph’s still on his floor sorting clothes, either absorbed in what he’s doing or ignoring me.
I’m not scared he’s going to put the moves on me or anything. Obviously. Since he knows I’m straight.
At least, I assume he knows that.
Shit, maybe I should be clear with him. So he doesn’t think there’s any chance—
Jesus, Jason. Not everyone wants to bang you.
I don’t know why my brain is getting all weird like this. And I’m not sure how to bring it up in conversation. Hey, Murph, I know you’re gay, but don’t try anything.
Yeah, that sounds like an utterly arrogant thing to say. It assumes he wants me and, moreover, that he’d act on it.
Neither of those assumptions is accurate, I’m sure.
Well, if it comes up, I’ll tell him. Otherwise, no need to make things awkward.
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