Page 22 of A Bossy Roommate
OMG. Did I really say that out loud?You can lower that thing—I’ve already seen you naked?Don’t ask me what just happened. It must have just slipped out. “Hmm? What? Never mind.”
“No. What did you just say?” he insists.
“You can really work that thing. Thanks for saving the day,” I say. “I mean, you really are a hero with that fire extinguisher.”
He grunts, and the scowl on his face deepens. Since when is an attempt to trivialize a funny situation inappropriate?
“I’ll clean this up,” I offer.
“We’ll deal with it in the morning. Get some sleep.”
He turns (without revealing any aspects) and heads next door without another word. But I know I have just experienced a memorable moment—my burned cupcakes and a naked fire extinguisher-wielding bosszilla—one that will be quite a story to recall later. It sure was a euphoric delight of a different kind!
Also, I honestly have no choice but to take a “quick” glance at that firm naked ass of his as he walks out—unabashedly so. Two words: nice buns. They send heat rolling through my body. I almost laugh at knowing what my boss’s ass looks like. Firm, slightly hairy (the good way, not the full-on hairy monkey way). His legs are hairy too—swooooooon. The light is definitely better here than in my dimly lit motel room—which is always a plus.
I lick a bit of frosting off my finger.
It’s a good thing he left though. I don’t think I could handle anotherfierydrilltoday. Internally scolding myself for being oh so hopeless, I turn my back to look at the mess I’m responsible for. Instead of leaving it as he told me, I get to work cleaning for no other reason than to work off the sexual frustration that has started to develop.
8
CARTER
5:00 A.M.
Iwake up to the sound of my alarm—and someone singing. It takes my sleep-addled brain a good five seconds to remember I’m no longer alone in my apartment. Right. Eden. My new assistant. My temporary roommate and fake fiancée. The one who almost set my apartment on fire last night.
It’s been the most peculiar twenty-four hours I’ve had in a long time.
I ease myself out of bed, taking a moment to wake up. And listen. The singing is soft and comes from the direction of the kitchen. After a while, I hear it travel through the living room and down the hall. It stops once the guest suite bathroom opens and closes. It starts again as soon as the shower turns on, annoyingly loud. “Walking on Sunshine,” of all songs. It feels strange having another person in the apartment with me. I haven’t lived with anyone in a long time and that’s on purpose. I like my space and rarely enjoy it being invaded. Even when my aunt comes to visit, I start to get antsy for my solitude—especially once she starts playing matchmaker with every Jane, Alice, and Sarah she knows.
I’m not going to let the week throw me off.
Despite the new addition in my life, I’m determined to go about my daily routine. After a series of stretches, I throw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and head to my gym.
It has everything I need: free weights, a treadmill, an elliptical, and a punching bag. On one of the walls is a flat screen which I turn on to catch the local business report. While I watch, I hop on the treadmill and start running at a steady sprint. I enjoy running. It helps me center myself, to focus. Nothing beats the burning of my muscles first thing in the morning, followed by a cold shower.
“Whoa! I didn’t know you had a gym!”
Eden’s upbeat voice forces my eyes away from the TV. She stands in the doorway in nothing but a robe as she rubs her wet hair with a towel. I look away to avoid staring at the way water clings to her partially exposed chest.
“You’re welcome to use any of the equipment,” I offer. “Just not first thing in the morning. It’s my time.”
She grins. “What, you can’t share?”
“It’s not about sharing, it’s about my routine being messed up. I have a strict workout regimen, and I loathe deviations. Why are you awake this early anyway? You don’t have to be in for another two hours.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, resting the towel around her neck. “Also, I really wanted to apologize again about last night.”
“What the hell were you doing with matches?”
“I put a candle in the cupcake as a mini celebration. After all, I did just get engaged, even though it’s a sham.”
The mental image of her alone on the balcony blowing out a candle strikes a chord with me. I try to ignore the feeling and return my focus to the news. “I’ll be done running in tenminutes. Breakfast should be here in twenty. I leave for work in forty.”
“You have breakfastdelivered?”
The question is about as unexpected as finding a penguin in the desert. “Of course.”