Page 72 of A Bossy Roommate
Am I fucking dreaming?
21
CARTER
5:14 A.M.
Iroll over to find she’s not there. The sheets are cold, and when I sit up and listen, I can hear her humming to herself in the kitchen. I take a second to collect myself and get up. After my bathroom routine, I splash my face with cold water. Why the fuck am I allowing myself to get worked up about this?
No, I know what the problem is.
The power dynamic. She’s my assistant, and I’m the boss. I set the ground rules and she follows them. I have always been that way at work and in the bedroom.
Friday night after our kiss, something had changed. Last night, things had gotten worse.
She’s gotten under my skin.
I need to work out, to channel my energy into something else. After throwing on a pair of black workout shorts and black sneakers, I head to the gym like I do every morning. I avoid even looking in the direction of the kitchen, not wanting to get distracted by Eden.
The familiar burn of my muscles is a welcome feeling. I run on the treadmill, watching the news.
I haven’t been going for more than five minutes when I hear the guest suite door open, and my aunt pokes her head in. “Oh, Carter, good morning, I figured that was you,” she greets. “Stop that running nonsense. I think your beautiful wife is cooking us a big breakfast… Mmm. I can smell pancakes.”
“I’ll be there in seventeen minutes, Auntie.”
“All right,mon chéri.”
I work out until I can’t run anymore. By the time I step off the treadmill, I feel a lot better. I jump in the shower and throw on a fresh pair of blue jeans and a white T-shirt before joining Eden and Aunt Eleanor in the kitchen.
She was right: Eden has made a large breakfast.
There are veggie omelets, toast, and vegan pancakes. It surprises me, considering she’s never given any indication that she’s interested in cooking. There’s even a colorful fruit salad, and, lo and behold, chocolate cupcakes. It’s a nice gesture from her to make my aunt feel welcome.
“Good morning,” Eden sings, far too cheerful for the early hour, wearing her summer dress, and pouring orange juice into three glasses.
“Good morning,” I rumble.
I walk over to her, put my fingers under her chin, turn her face to me, and place a soft kiss on her lips, followed by another one.
“Good morning,” she repeats breathlessly, spilling half the juice. I like that my kiss affects her that much. Her eyes are laughing, so are mine, but she quickly catches herself and wipes away the mess, addressing my aunt. “What do you want to do today, Auntie?”
My aunt’s plane is leaving in the early evening, and I’m glad there are many hours to fill with memories. “Yes, Auntie, anything special you’d like to do?”
“Oh, you don’t have to go making such a fuss. As long as I spend the day with the both of you, I’ll be happy.”
“Auntie, I must say, you are positively glowing today,” Eden says. “Did you sleep well last night? You seem to be full of vitality and vigor.”
Just as Eden asks that, my aunt goes into a coughing fit, and Eden hurries to get her some water while I kneel by my aunt to check on her.
“Try to take a deep breath,” I order.
“I’m all right, I’m fine.” She drinks from the glass Eden pushes into her hands, and after a moment, the coughing stops. “There, see? All better.”
I keep my eye on her as we eat breakfast. She seems fine, chatting away with Eden as the two of them lay out the plans for the day. Straying from her initial insistence of our activities not being important to her, my aunt is on a mission to take Eden and Hattie around to see not one or two but every single one of her favorite sights NYC has to offer.
“I am bringing Hattie with us, folks,” she announces. “Hattie’s always telling me about her wild youth, and I need to see some of that excitement in action. You know what they say: the more, the merrier!”
She’s in the middle of a lengthy talk about touring the Museum of Natural History when I interrupt.