The Roommate Read Free

loud, it won’t disturb me.”
    “Goodnight, then.”
    Should I hug him?   Shake his hand?   Don’t be an idiot .   Nodding, I said goodnight in return and went into my bedroom to change.   My sweater and jeans could be worn again, so I set them aside and dropped everything else in the hamper.   Shoes in the closet.   With company, it was definitely a night for my most demure pajamas.   I still had to brush my teeth, wash my face, and pee in the bathroom, so better he see me in a cute flannel set vs. the ratty tee and old gym shorts I usually wore.
    Slapping my forehead, I remembered I hadn’t given him a pillow or blanket, yet.   The linen closet was in the bathroom.   Patrick was stretched out on my sofa, shoes off, his laptop on his lap.
    “Forget something?” he asked with eyes still on the screen.
    “Nope. Bathroom’s out here.”
    “Right.”
    Safe inside the bathroom, I let out a long breath.   My stomach had done a little flutter seeing him there looking comfortable.   Almost like he belonged.   I struck that thought out of my head as soon as it popped in there.   What was wrong with me?   It was like he’d triggered my biological clock or something—which was insane since I totally was not one of those girls searching for a husband.   At twenty-five, I had plenty of time for all that later.   Right?
    Right.
    Get cleaned up and go to bed!  
    Everything would be much saner in the morning.

 

Chapter Three

 
    I’m not an instantly alert person in the morning.   My alarm goes off at 6:30AM every workday and the sequence goes like this: blindly fumble to the dresser to shut it off, turn on one bedside lamp, cringe at the light, rub my eyes, and shuffle half-asleep to the bathroom.   So, because I wasn’t awake, it took getting back to my room after showering to remember I had a guest on my couch.   Who might’ve just seen me walk by in a towel.
    I peeked into the dark living room.   Patrick faced away from me.   His breathing was even.   His glasses were on the coffee table.   Thank God .   Quietly shutting the door, I got dressed, and then snuck back to the bathroom to blow dry my hair and put on make-up.   I’d have to turn on the kitchen light to make tea, but hopefully he’d sleep through that, too.
    Weird to have to sneak around my own apartment?   Yup.   But I was a considerate host—which was more than I could say if he was bunking with Ros right now.   Siblings, you know.
    My hope of leaving before Patrick was awake was dashed upon opening the door.   He’d sat up on the sofa, looking as groggy as I’d been, and shirtless.   The curls on his head were in wild disarray.   He blinked at me standing in the bathroom doorway and fumbled for his glasses.
    “Hey,” I said.
    “Good morning.”   God, his voice was even throatier from sleep.   A thrill ran up my spine.
    Shirtless.   Did I mention that already?   The blanket was still over his legs, so I couldn’t see more than that, but the naked chest and arms and abs was plenty.   An even dusting of hair spread across his pecs .   Yum .  
    Stop staring and go to work!
    I retreated to my bedroom for shoes and a jacket, then—
    Patrick was on his way to my bathroom.   A pair of sweat pants hung low on his hips.   If he didn’t have such a fine ass, I think they would’ve fallen off.
    Key!   In case he wanted to leave the apartment, he’d need a key.   I dug the spare out of the junk drawer in the kitchen, slapped it on the counter, and said, “Bye!” before grabbing my purse and running out the door.   Breakfast could be bought at Starbucks, including tea.
    I arrived at work fifteen minutes early.
    That never happens.
    Any other normal day, I sit at my desk exactly on my start time.   To the minute.   Every day.   I liked my job enough to be punctual but not so much to do overtime.
    That extra fifteen went to eating breakfast in the break room, a cream cheese muffin and Tazo green tea.   My