Page 36 of A Bossy Roommate

“Where am I going to sleep?” The reason I’m bringing up this question—again—is because when I’d walked by his bedroom to get to the gym this morning, the door had been standing open and theredefinitelyweren’t two beds. What’s even worse, even though his bedroom is quite spacious, the modern architecture and setting of the balcony, fixed shelves, and furniture doesn’t even allow for a second bed.

“We’ve been over this. In my room, of course.” He turns to me, giving me a “duh” face. “It’s going to be our room for the weekend. We need to sell our marriage. I can’t sleep on the couch if that’s what you’re suggesting, and neither can you. We’re both sleeping in my room.”

“But there’s only one bed. You said there would be two. Right?”

“Right,” he says.

“So?”

“So what?”

“A second bed wouldn’t even fit into your bedroom…or would it?”

11

CARTER

“It wouldn’t,” I confirm.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s only one bed, correct. Mine. We’ll share it. There’s no way around it. You have to sleep in my bed.”

“What? No. You said there would be two beds.”

“I lied.”

“Carter!”

“Eden, we’ve already slept in one bed. I’m sure we’ll manage again.”

For once, she doesn’t find the situation funny. “You’re ruthless, absolutely ruthless. Ugh. And I already signed the contract.”

“No, Eden, I’m not ruthless. I’m desperate.”

Eden’s eyes find mine.

Her expression softens, her shoulders drop, and she gives one nod. “Yeah, okay, have it your way. But no sleeping in the nude…you know…” The last two words come in a lower voice, and she motions in the direction of her balcony, referring to my naked state after unexpectedly having to prevent the building from burning down.

She’s blushing. It’s almost cute how embarrassed she is.

The moment lasts only a few seconds before her voice returns to its previous volume and determined intensity. “There will be no action. Zero. Zilch. Nada.”

“Action?”

“Exactly. As in no husband-wife lovemaking, no chaining me to your bed, and no fiery eruptions.”

Chaining her to my bed? Hm.

Drink in hand, I lean against the counter. “You can’t stop thinking about sex with me. Can you?”

“I was just making sure. Good night.”

With that, she turns and storms to her guest suite.

11.43 p.m.

I wake up to the sound of a shriek. It’s similar to the one that interrupted my peaceful evening a few days prior.