Roommates With Benefits [BL]

As soon as I stepped out of the ballroom, I had already regretted agreeing to talk at least seventeen times.

But the eighteenth regret hit me like a brick to the face when Damien followed me out.

The doors swung shut behind us, dulling the reception’s noise until the music faded into a distant thump.

Just moments ago, I was surrounded by laughter, drinks, dancing, and people pretending weddings were glowing celebrations of love rather than really fucking expensive public declarations of shared legal inconvenience for life.

Yeah... marriage was pretty worth it though.

Now, the scene was replaced by a quiet hallway, a cool breeze drifting in from the terrace ahead, and Damien’s footsteps trailing behind me.

For some reason, those footsteps bothered me more than they should have. I could hear them clearly, and that was the problem.

Four years back, I knew the sound of Damien walking behind me so well that I could recognize him without needing to look back.

I knew the rhythm of his steps when he was tired, the heavier sound he made when he was irritated, and the almost silent way he moved around our room when he thought I was asleep.

Apparently, my brain didn’t think this info was worth forgetting.

Very considerate of that stupid thing.

I pushed open the terrace door and stepped outside, and the temperature dropped right away.

The cool night air brushed against my overheated skin, and I took a slow breath, hoping the chill would do something useful...like erase four years of emotional baggage or at least make me forget that the guy standing behind me was the one making me hyper-aware of every heartbeat in my chest.

The terrace looked out over a garden lit by tiny golden lamps, trees swayed lightly in the breeze, their leaves softly rustling against one another.

Somewhere not too far off, a fountain trickled quietly...almost annoyingly peaceful given the emotional chaos unfolding on this balcony.

Behind us, the wedding was still in full swing.

Joey’s laugh was unmistakable, loud enough to travel through several walls and probably three neighboring homes.

Good, at least someone was enjoying their night.

He’s lucky I don’t feel like turning poor sweet Natasha into a widow on her first day of being a married woman.

I walked over to the railing, resting both hands against it, staring out at the garden, the stone rough and cold beneath my palms.

Damien stayed several feet behind me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched on. I could feel his gaze on me, and I hated that I still felt it.

For the past four years, I had trained myself not to turn around whenever something reminded me of him ...a song from the 80s, a fragrance, a particular shade of blue, someone in a black coat with sleeves rolled up, hockey games, coffee mugs, and expensive watches.

Apparently, none of that training had accounted for standing on a balcony with the man himself.

I kept my eyes fixed on the garden.

”Beautiful night,” I finally said.

It was the dumbest thing I could’ve said, and I knew it. Damien knew it too. Hell, even the garden probably knew it.

But here I was, resorting to commenting on landscaping as a survival tactic.

”It is.” His voice was different now...lower, smoother.

There was still the same calmness beneath it, but something about it had shifted with age.

Maybe it was the years, or perhaps the confidence that came with being the CEO of one of the country’s biggest companies.

Or maybe I was just hearing it after so long and remembering things I really should’ve forgotten.

I swallowed. ”So...you wanted to talk.”

”Yes.”

Finally, I turned around and immediately regretted it again.

Damien stood under the soft light from the terrace doors, one hand casually at his side, the other tucked into his pocket.

His black suit was a perfect fit, which somehow annoyed me since four years hadn’t improved his knack for looking like a walking advertisement for wealth.

His hair was longer than I remembered, swept away from his face, with a few loose strands falling across his forehead. His features were sharper now, more defined, and he carried himself with a harder edge...not cruel exactly, just less soft.

The gentleness I remembered around his eyes wasn’t as apparent anymore.

I hated that I noticed. The clearer memory of his younger self lingered in my mind, sitting on the floor of Room 25, bickering over who was buying groceries.

I couldn’t help but wonder...what the hell had his parents done to him these past few years?

His wrist caught the light, showcasing an expensive watch. Of course, because being a billionaire CEO apparently came with accessories.

I quickly glanced away before he noticed me staring.

”So,” I said, crossing my arms. ”Talk.”

Damien took a few seconds to scrutinize me. ”You’re angry at me.”

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. ”Oh...no, really?”

His expression tightened a bit. ”I didn’t mean—”

”I know what you meant.” I held back, annoyed at how easily that slipped out. Instead, I turned my gaze toward the garden again. ”You know what? I’m actually glad.”

Damien froze. ”Glad?”

”Yeah. Glad that things turned out this way.” The words felt strange as they left my mouth, but once I started, I couldn’t stop.

”If we hadn’t separated, you wouldn’t be standing here as the CEO of Lockwood Group. You wouldn’t have your company or the position you’ve built up over the years. Your life would be much...much different.”

I smiled, though it lacked humor. ”And I think that’s a good thing.”

”Oliver.”

”No, let me finish.” Surprisingly, my voice remained steady, which was nice.

I had spent four years mastering the art of pretending I didn’t care. Apparently, I’d earned a certificate in that.

”You made the right choice. Or I did, technically, since I was the one who told you to go. Either way, it worked out. You’re successful, powerful...you’re just where you were meant to be!”

I saw Damien’s jaw tighten, and I noticed it, but pretended not to.

”And I’m glad I was no longer an obstacle in your way,” I added. ”That’s exactly what I would’ve become eventually...just an obstacle.”

”You were never an obstacle, Sunshine.”

”Maybe not at first.” I met his gaze. ”But honestly, can you say things would’ve stayed the same?”

He didn’t respond, and that silence twisted something inside me.

”Exactly.”

”That’s not what my silence means.”

”Then what does it mean?”

His eyes bore into mine, and I almost looked away. ”You disappeared for four years, Damien.”

His expression changed slightly, but I barely noticed.

”You disappeared for four years and now just show up asking if we can talk?”

”I didn’t disappear.”

I stared at him, fighting back disbelief.

”Really?”

”Yes.”

I let out a softer laugh. ”That’s interesting, because from where I was standing, it sure looked like disappearing.”

Damien took a slow breath. ”I had reasons, Oliver.”

”Sure you did.”

”Oliver—”

”No,” I shook my head. ”You don’t get to play that card.”

His brows knitted together. ”Do what?”

”Walk back into my life after four years and expect me to be impressed because you have reasons.”

The wind blew between us, carrying the faint scent of the garden mixed with something colder beneath it. I shoved my hands into my pockets because they had started trembling slightly, and I refused to let him see that.

”You promised me one year.”

His face went still.

”One year,” I repeated. ”You asked me to wait for you. You said your father would retire, and you’d come back to me.”

”I... remember.”

”Do you?” My voice came out softer than I intended.

Damien held my gaze for a long moment. ”Yes.”

I looked away. ”Well, you didn’t come back.”

His jaw flexed. ”I couldn’t.”

”That’s convenient.”

”It wasn’t.”

”Do you know what was inconvenient?” I turned back to face him. ”Waking up every day wondering if I had ruined my life waiting for nothing.”

His expression broke a little, and I pushed through before cowardice could take me.

”I went back to school, worked hard, and tried to build a life that didn’t revolve around waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. I had to justify to myself why the one who promised to return didn’t even bother to call!”

”I couldn’t call you.”

”Why?”

He didn’t answer and that stopped me. For a fleeting moment, I thought he might finally tell me everything. Instead, his gaze flitted downward briefly.

I felt something inside me sink.

”Right,” I murmured. ”That’s what I thought.”

”Please Oliver, that’s not what you think.”

”You don’t know what I think.”

”I know you.”

The weight of his words struck harder than they should have. I stared at him.

”No,” I said quietly. ”You knew me. You don’t know me now.”