Page 41 of Pursued By My Grumpy Fiancé
“Enough with the sex already, you stupid horndog. This is serious.”
“Did you just call me a horndog? I am not a high schooler,” he says.
“Stop acting like one then.” I smirk after my response.
I hear him grumbling to himself, his words unintelligible.
“Whatever. Tell me the roommate rules,” he finally says.
“Okay, we need a cleaning schedule, first of all.”
“I have a maid,” he interrupts.
“That explains why your place is so clean,” I remark, and he grunts in annoyance. “I require my own pantry and fridge space for my food. I want to know ahead of time if there will be people coming over; I never want to be surprised by it.”
“I’ll have to change the code on the keypad. My mom has it at the moment.” He says and I sigh.
Let’s tell her that we’ve decided to move in together then, and she can’t come over unannounced anymore,” I say. I don’t like the way I sound, dictating his own lifestyle to him, but I know it’s an important boundary to agree on if we’re going to make this work. Especially since it would be weird for her to come over randomly and discover me sleeping in a different bedroom.
“Right, fine, that makes sense. You will need to make your bed every morning then, just in case she does show up,” he says.
“Okay, so this is all a deal?” I ask.
“I’ve already sent all the terms over to Ted. He will transform it into a full-fledged contract and have us sign it tomorrow morning. I think it would be best to move you straight away. Do you have a lot of stuff?”
I look around at my apartment, at all the furniture that came with the place, the perfect appeal for students like me.
“No, not really. Just clothes, shoes, and a couple of trinkets.”
“Okay. I’ll be over in an hour with some boxes. Start packing what you can into a suitcase or something.”
The line goes dead, and I look around the place I’ve called home for the past few years. The feeling is bittersweet.
Chapter Eighteen
Landon
“Settlinginokay?”Iask, popping my head into Hailey’s room.
She’s putting the last bit of her clothes on hangers.
“Yeah, thank you,” she says, gradually hanging up the pile she’s accumulated and placing the empty suitcase into the closet. I walk over and hand her a sticky note with a name and number on it.
“Good, good. That’s Fred’s name and number; he’s the one who sorts our drivers out. So, if you need to go anywhere or do anything, just give him a call or a text and he will send a car out for you.”
“Oh, thank you. Actually, I would like to get some groceries now that I’m thinking about it,” she says, pulling out her phone.
I gently cover it with my hand and push it down.
“No need to go out at this time. The traffic will be horrendous since everyone is getting off work. Just make a list, and I’ll have groceries sent over.”
She gives me a wary glance before nodding.
“Yeah, okay, that makes sense. I do need to study for my exam, anyway,” she gives me a look that I’m not quite grasping the meaning of.
“Could I have some time to myself so that I can study?”
I cough and nod, embarrassed that I didn’t catch on sooner.
