Page 17 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
The implication of what would make me even later...
God, does he mean?
Suddenly, he stepped back, the spell broken. I immediately felt cold without his proximity.
“Right,” I muttered, gathering my papers while trying to look anywhere but at his chest. Or abs. Or the obvious bulge now visible beneath his towel.
“The Biological Sciences building is about fifteen minutes from here by car,” he said. “Take Washington Avenue, then cut through downtown—it’s a couple miles to campus.”
I blinked in surprise. “How did you?—”
“Your welcome packet,” he nodded toward the papers in my hand. “Big University of Minnesota logo. Not exactly detective work.”
“Right. Well. Thank you.” I gathered the last of my papers, painfully aware of the dampness between my thighs and the heavy throb of arousal that would follow me all the way to the lab.
“I’m surprised your team apartment is this far from campus. The listing specifically said, ‘sublet near campus.’” I frowned, thinking back to the messages. “I assumed it’d be a little closer.”
“Dennis lied about a lot of things,” Stone said flatly. “The team owns luxury properties throughout the city for players. This building is downtown, close to the arena—not the university.”
“That explains the fancy elevator and doorman,” I muttered. “Not exactly student housing.”
“Good luck, Lab Bunny.” He turned away, that almost-smile playing at his lips again.
I grabbed my phone, pulling up a rideshare app as I rushed for the door, my mind split between panic about being lateand the lingering phantom sensation of his fingers on my skin.
“And Kate?” he called after me.
I paused, hand on the doorknob.
“Your shoes don’t match.”
I looked down. One black flat. One navy.
Perfect. I hurried back to my room to fix the shoes.
The rideshare dropped me at the edge of campus. From there I had to sprint the rest of the way to the Biological Sciences building, bursting into the lab precisely fourteen minutes late, my chest heaving and face flushed.
“Dr. Ellis,” a crisp voice cut through the bustling laboratory. “How kind of you to join us.”
Dr. Eleanor Barnes stood by a pristine workstation, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a perfect bun, her lab coat without a single wrinkle. She was everything I aspired to be professionally, and at this moment, everything I clearly wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasped, clutching my disheveled notes. “Housing emergency. Couldn’t find...address.”
Her piercing eyes assessed me from head to toe. “Indeed. Well, tardiness aside, we’re pleased to have you join our research team.”
She gestured to the four other researchers, all of whom looked like they’d been awake, dressed, and scientifically productive for hours.
“Everyone, this is Dr. Katherine Ellis, our new fellowship recipient. Dr. Ellis specializes in antibiotic resistance mechanisms.” She turned back to me. “Dr. Ellis, allow me to introduce the team.”
I smiled awkwardly as Dr. Barnes introduced each team member, their names immediately evaporating from my anxiety-riddled brain. I’d be calling them “hey you” for at least a week.
Dr. Barnes cleared her throat. “Dr. Ellis, your workstation is here. We’ve prepared culture samples according to your research proposal. Today we’ll be running baseline assessments.”
I nodded.
“Perfect. I brought my modified protocols for the plasmid transfer tracking.”
“I reviewed your protocols,” said a woman—Dr. Sharma, I thought, though I wasn’t certain. “Your RNA extraction method seems unnecessarily complex.”
