Page 23 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
“Speaking of boyfriends—oh shit, is that the time? I have a video call with Dr. Barnes about my fellowship in five minutes!”
Kate scrambled to her feet, nearly knocking over the remaining takeout in her haste. I watched her frantic movements with amusement as she gathered her laptop and notes.
“Do you need me to clear out?” I asked, already knowing what a disaster a video call would be with her current setup.
“No, no, I’ll just...” She glanced around wildly. “Use the guest room. Your guest room. My room. Whatever.”
As she hurried down the hallway, I heard her mutter, “Don’t think about the texts, don’t think about the texts,” and couldn’t help the smirk that crossed my face.
Left alone, I cleaned up our dinner mess, my mind replaying the evening’s revelation. The woman who’d been living rent-free in my head for weeks was the same one who’d been living rent-reduced in my condo.
I was loading the dishwasher when I heard Kate’s voice drift down the hallway, suddenly shifting into what I now recognized as her “professional mode”—rapid-fire scientific jargon punctuated by “Yes, Dr. Barnes” and “Of course, Dr. Barnes.”
Curious, I moved closer, telling myself I wasn’t eavesdropping—just heading to my bedroom. But I paused when I heard a lull in her professional chatter, the perfect moment to have a little fun.
I knocked softly on her door.
“Everything okay in there, roomie?”
There was a brief silence, then Kate’s strained voice: “Just fine, thank you!”
“Because I was thinking about that thing you mentioned in your text last Thursday, about the shower situation.”
I heard a muffled choking sound, followed by: “Dr. Barnes, could you excuse me for just one second?”
The door flew open and Kate emerged, her face flushed crimson, eyes blazing. “Are you trying to get me fired?” she hissed.
I leaned against the wall, enjoying this new power dynamic. “Just being a considerate roommate.”
“I will murder you with science,” she threatened, jabbing a finger at my chest. “They’ll never find the body.”
“Pretty sure Dr. Barnes would figure it out.”
“I—” she started, then stopped as we both heard Dr. Barnes’s voice calling Kate’s name from the laptop. “We are not done with this conversation,” she whispered fiercely before disappearing back into the room.
I chuckled to myself as I headed to my bedroom, undeniably turned on by this fiery version of Kate. The same woman who apologized to my coffee maker when she used it wrong was now threatening my life with those bright eyes and that delicious flush on her skin.
Fuck.
This was going to be complicated.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of Kate banging around in the kitchen. I checked the time—five fifteen a.m.—and frowned. She was never up this early.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and headed to the kitchen to find her furiously measuring coffee grounds.
“Morning,” I said, my voice still rough with sleep.
She jumped, nearly spilling the grounds. “Jesus! Warn a person before you ninja into the room half-naked.”
Her eyes skimmed over my bare chest before quickly darting away, but not before I caught the appreciation in them.Interesting.
“This is my kitchen,” I pointed out, moving past her to get a glass of water. “And it’s five fifteen. You’re never up this early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she muttered, focusing intently on the coffee maker. “Too many...thoughts.”
“About?”
She shot me a look. “Don’t play dumb, Stone. It doesn’t suit you.”
