Page 38 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

This seems to wake her up. Her sage eyes ignite, and she whacks my biceps. “Oh yeah! Why am I the one over here apologizing? You were the pervert lurking in my closet!”

I hold up a defensive finger. “Okay, first, not a pervert.”

“Says the man who stole my underwear once.”

Yeah, those incidences look bad when lined up side by side. “Only because it made sense in relation toyourprank. And second, the moment I realized you were going to change clothes,I turned around! Third, it’s all Cooper’s fault. It was his idea to hide in your closet.” And I will never listen to him again.

I think that towel must be working its way loose, because Jessie reaches up to clasp the ends closed.

“Butwhydid Cooper tell you to hide in my closet?”

I groan because it sounds so ridiculous. I don’t even know why I thought it would be a good idea in the first place.You wanted her to kiss you.And that desire still stands. In fact, it’s growing stronger. That seed has taken root, and now it’s a vine wrapping around every thought, overtaking all of my rationality.

“I asked him for prank ideas, and he said popping out of a closet and scaring someone is the oldest in the book. I thought it was a funny idea until I was standing in there and realizing how creepy it was. And then, just as I was about to abort, you walked into the room. I couldn’t bring myself to scare you, and then I realized I had been in there too long to just stroll out without looking like the weirdest man ever, so I was going to wait it out until you went into the bathroom and then sneak back out.”

Jessie’s pink lips press together, and her shoulders are shaking. She’s laughing through her nose.

“Just let it out.” My voice sounds stupid with this toilet paper wad pressed to my nose.

And she does. Jessie laughs and laughs. At least she doesn’t want to punch me again. “You both are clowns. Are you kidding me? You thought hiding in a pregnant woman’s closet was a smart idea?! What if you scared the baby right out of me?”

“Not physically possible. But now that I know you’re a freaking MMA fighter, you better believe I’ll never cross you again. Where did you learn to punch like that, anyway?”

Her bottom lip juts out and I realize she’s experiencing sympathy for me.Sympathy.Jessie, the woman who has claimed to hate me, has now taken care of me when I hada migraine and showed tenderness toward me after being punched in the face. It’s weird, but I’ll take it.

“My grandaddy made me take self-defense classes all through high school so I could always take care of myself. You’re just lucky I didn’t kick you in the groin.” Her eyes sparkle as her lips pull into a sweet smile, and I’m momentarily breathless.

For a split second, noticing her smooth tan skin, light freckles dusting her chest, pronounced collarbones, and delicate mouth makes me feel guilty. Wishing I could run my finger across the slope of her shoulder all the way down to her fingers and see if she sighs makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. I’d wrap my hand around hers and pull her up close to me until I could feel her heart beating against mine. I’d smell her hair. I’d taste her lips, her neck, her shoulder—and wanting to do those things makes me feel downright dirty, no doubt because of my career and learning to not see women in my practice as anything besides patients. I mentally shake myself, because I’m not in the office, Jessie isn’t my patient, and I’m allowed to be just a man right now.

Except . . . maybe my eyes are telling Jessie a little too much of what I’m thinking, because suddenly her smile dims a little and she takes a step away. Her eyelashes fall, and I see the moment she realizes she’s still wearing a towel.

“Okay, well, if you’re all right, then . . . I think I’ll just . . .” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “I better go. Call me if you can’t get the bleeding to stop and need me to drive you to the hospital.” It’s pretty cute how she’s fumbling around, bumping into the wall as she turns, and then nervously chuckles over her shoulder. “There’s a wall there.”

I smile and lean back against the counter, still holding the toilet paper to my nose.

Her cheeks have bloomed into roses, and I get the feeling she doesn’t hate the attention I’m showing her but isn’t sure how to handle it either.

Jessie backs her way out of the bathroom, then gives me a short wave. “Bye.”

I don’t say anything, just hold my smile as she slips away.

I cross my ankles as I lean back against the counter fully and silently count how long it takes before she comes back.Two, three, four . . .

Jessie pops back in, face fully aflame now and an embarrassed smile curling her lips. “Yeah, so I forgot this is my bathroom . . . can you just . . .”

I’m already pushing myself off the counter and walking toward the door, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER 17

Drew

SUNDAY

I shut the fridge. “We’re out of creamer.”

Jessie is standing beside me, holding a cup of black coffee, looking like I just told her she has to pee in that mug and drink it.

“No,” she whispers dramatically.

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