“How do you know I haven’t done that already?”
He lets out a small chuckle, but it fades as he stares at me once more. Fuck, this is probably a huge mistake. I should find someone different, someone more like me. More compatible. But for some reason, I can’t make myself turn him away.
I know I’m going to go through with this despite knowing it will come back to haunt me.
“Right. You’re funny. Or at least, I think you’re being funny.” He runs his hand along the back of his neck, and my fingers curl around the seat of the chair to the point of pain.
“Cool, yeah, I can sign this. Totally cool.”
“You should read it first,” I interject, but he’s already signing his name at the bottom. “Nah, I trust you, bro. You give me good vibes.”
I stare at him, his fingers twirling the pen around before it flies from his hand and lands on the floor. We both stare at it before he swears and reaches to grab it. He bends down, the band of his compression shorts visible beneath his athletic ones.
I peel my gaze away and bite down on my bottom lip as he appears in my line of sight once more.
“Cool. So, I can move in soon?”
“Yes, if you’d like. There’s only one bedroom, but the extra bed is available, and I’ve made some room in the cabinets in the kitchen for anything you’d like to bring or buy.”
He rubs his hands together, and I stare at those long, thick fingers for a beat too long.
“Awesome. I’ll be, like, the best roommate, you know? You won’t even know I’m around.”
He stands up, his crotch suddenly at eye level. I slide my gaze up to his face, and he grins down at me. Yeah, I highly doubt I won’t noticehim around my place, sleeping in my room, using my utensils, and showering in my bathroom.
But then again, I did this to myself. There was a perfectly nice girl who interviewed right before him. She seemed sweet, and she was absolutely not someone I’d be interested in.
Yet, I still slid that contract over to Caleb instead.
And here we are. Roommates.
Probably the biggest mistake of my life.
Caleb moves in later that day, dragging in a few worn, half-broken boxes and making a general mess as he unpacks.
His stuff gradually appears in my closet, in my drawers, and in my kitchen cabinets.
I offer to help him organize it all, but he just shakes his head and says he’s happy to do it himself.
So, I settle into the large, comfortable chair I bought for myself and pretend to read my Kindle. I mean, I’d like to be reading the words on the screen, but my eyes keep getting diverted by his movements. He bends over more than any man I’ve ever known and grunts when he does it, too.
What the fuck is he doing? He’s acting like he’s bodybuilding or something. Which he could be, with those muscles of his.
I clear my throat, and the sound causes him to turn toward me.
“Sorry about the mess. I’ll make sure to clean it up. Promise. You won’t regret me.”
I think I’ll regret him very much, but thinking that doesn’t deter my eyes from adhering to his form. I incessantly peek over at him while he puts everything away and breaks down the boxes. When he’s finished, he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and gulps it down.
He even gives a nice little burp at the end.
He squishes the bottle in his hand, producing an obnoxious sound. Before he can deposit it in the wrong place, I say, “Recycling, please.”
He peers over at me and then tosses it into the blue bin.
“Cool. Must be really into saving the Earth. I can respect that.” He gives me a peace sign.
I say nothing in return, just curl my fingers around my Kindle so tightly I worry the screen may crack. Everyone should put an effort into doing what they can to save the fucking planet. But I’m pretty sure he lacks concern for it. When I peered out the window earlier, I saw that he drives a rusty old Jeep that I’m sure guzzles more gas than a semi-truck.
