Page 16 of Resisting my Roommate

I can’t be entirely sure, considering the layers of fabric she’s currently wearing, but it almost looks like she’s swaying her hips slightly more than usual.

The second she closes the door, I push out a long breath and run a hand down my face, my mind conjuring all sorts ofimages of her crawling into bed without wearing a single scrap of clothing.

I quickly push down the thought. That’s the absolute last thing I need to be thinking about with her sleeping across the hall from me. She just ran out on the man she was supposed to marry, for crying out loud. As much of an asshole as I can be on occasion, at least according to my sister, I’m not about to take advantage of someone who’s already vulnerable.

Although there’s nothing vulnerable about the way she just looked at me.

A voice in my head reminds me she’s exactly my type. Witty. Charming. With legs that go on for miles. And the best part? She’s just passing through town.

But there’s something about Abbey that’s different from all the other girls I’ve sought comfort in over the past few years in the hopes of forgetting, even if only for a little while.

And it confuses me.Sheconfuses me.

Which is probably why I’ve been an ass to her.

“Hey, Jude?” Abbey calls out from the other side of the door with giggle. “It’s like that Beatles song,” she remarks, then starts to sing the famous song.

“How original,” I snip out sarcastically. “I’ve never had someone make that connection before.”

“Right. Sorry.” The door opens and Abbey stands in the doorway, still in her wedding dress. “Do you think you can lend me a hand?”

“With what?”

She turns, revealing her back to me, the material sheer with a delicate floral overlay. “There are, like, a thousand buttons on this damn thing and there’s no way I can unbutton them myself.”

“Right. Sure.” With another hard swallow, I approach.

She smooths her dark tendrils over one shoulder, the motion causing me to catch a whiff of her perfume. Plumeria. Freshlinen. Lavender. It makes me want to bury my face in her hair and never come up for air. Don’t even get me started on her skin. Flawless. Smooth. Perfect.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course.” I snap out of my trance and bring my fingers up to the top button.

While there aren’t exactly a thousand buttons, there are quite a lot. And they’re also ridiculously small, making it a bit of a chore to maneuver each one through the loop.

“They gave me a tool that makes it easier, but I left it behind.”

“It’s okay.” My voice is soft as I finally manage to unclasp the first button. “I don’t mind.”

For some reason, I like being able to do this for her. It’s probably just because I regret the things I said to her the other night when I wasn’t myself. She needs to feel some sort of compassion, even if I’m normally not the kind of guy willing to give that.

As I continue working my way down the line of buttons, they become a little easier. But I still take my time, not wanting to rush this any more than necessary. And with every button, more of her skin is revealed.

I try to be mindful not to brush my fingers against her flesh, but as I reach her waist, the fit becomes slightly tighter, making it more difficult, and I accidentally swipe my hand against her skin. Electricity heats my veins me at the same time as a visible shiver rolls through her. Her balance wavers somewhat, causing her to relax her grip on the front of her dress. When she does, I catch a glimpse of the side of her breast, and the dull throbbing consuming me becomes more pronounced.

“Fuck,” I hiss, my jaw clenching.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I…” I trail off, unsure what to say.

Sorry I saw the side of your boob, and now I feel like I’m about to explode in my pants like a teenager who’s just seen his first pair of tits?

There’s no way in hell I plan on admitting that to her.

“Caught my skin on the button,” I finally manage to say.

When she glances over her shoulder and her eyes meet mine, I can see the skepticism within.

---