Page 21 of Room 1212

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him close so we could share the spray. It was a small shower, but I secretly liked the excuse to be pressed up against him. “Do you need to get some writing done today?”

He huffed and stuck his lip out in a pout. “Probably, but I don’t wanna,” he whined. “This is more fun.”

I chuckled. I couldn’t argue with him on that point. Writing to me brought back memories of banging my head against the keyboard as I struggled to pull together my university essays, and there was nothing fun about that. “And did I replenish those creative wells for you?” I asked, trailing kisses down his neck. “Or do I need to try harder?”

He purred, gripping my arms. “Yes, please, try harder.”

11

Jordan

"Whatdoyouthinkyou’re doing?” Drew asked.

I quirked an eyebrow at him. I was balanced on one leg, the other shoved halfway into my pants. “Should I assume that’s a rhetorical question? I’m getting dressed, obviously.”

He shook his head slowly, tsking. “No, I don’t think you are.” He came up behind me and eased my hands off my pants, letting them drop back to the floor. He traced a line up my neck with his nose.

I cleared my throat, doing my best to ignore the goosebumps scattering across my skin. “It’s going to be awfully awkward when I get arrested for indecent exposure on the way home. I’d like to see Sean explain away that PR nightmare.”

“Good thing you’re not going home, then,” he whispered, before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. I was grateful for the arm he had around my waist, because my knees nearly buckled.

It took every ounce of strength I had to pry his arm off and take a step away, trying to clear my head. “Drew, we said it was just sex.”

He growled in frustration but allowed me my space. For now. “Yes. Just sex, but nobody said anything about a one-night stand. We could, oh, I don’t know, just keep having sex?”

While a little warning alarm sounded from somewhere deep in my mind, warning me about potential feelings, I didn’t immediately discount Drew’s suggestion. “Huh. Like, we meet once a week or something?”

“Or whenever one of us is horny and our schedules allow.”

I smirked, glancing down at hisverystiff cock. “I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ll be getting daily booty calls if I let you set the rules.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m an adult, I know how to control myself. Every second day should suffice.” He smirked and smacked my ass playfully on the way past me toward the kitchen. “But for now, I’m going to feed you. You’ll need to keep up your energy burning all these extra calories.”

“If we’re eating, why can’t I get dressed?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

He reappeared in the bedroom doorway, raking his eyes down my body in a possessive manner, and I swore every single inch of me blushed. “Do youneedclothes to eat?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. “I like to look at you.”

While looking was not part of our arrangement, I couldn’t deny that I liked the way his hungry gaze made me feel. I sighed dramatically. “All right, I suppose I’ll allow it.” Then I kicked my pants to the side and followed after him. “But I really do need to get home after breakfast. I have a lot to do today.”

“You mean, besides write?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

I perched on the edge of a chair, the hard wood cold against my bare backside. “Among other things. I have to answer emails, do a bit of marketing, post on social media. There’s a lot more to being an author than just writing. Iwishit was that simple.” It was hard to change gears between tasks, and once I descended into my writing mode, I often forgot all the rest of it until I was done the book, so I would schedule a few posts for the next couple weeks to take the pressure off.

We chatted a bit as Drew scrambled some eggs for me, and when he was done, he plated it up and set it on the table in front of me. We ate in companionable silence, our eyes lingering wherever they liked. And when we were done, instead of getting dressed and leaving like I’d intended, I allowed myself to be led to the couch, where Drew patted the cushion beside him.

He grabbed a beat-up mystery novel from the end table. “You do your social media thing while you digest, then we’ll have a little afternoon delight before I let you leave. If I’m not going to see you for a few days, I need to have my fill.” While it wasn’t exactly a command, he made it clear that it was happening. And strangely enough, I didn’t feel the need to argue.

This was a different experience from my usual solitary existence. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go a whole month without seeing anyone. I had my food delivered, put my phone on silent. I didn’t even own a pet since I was just as likely to forget to feed them as I was to feed myself. This change in my routine was a bit surreal, and I had to wonder… how was this different from dating?

I tried to ignore the twist in my stomach as I brought my feet up underneath myself and got comfortable with my phone. I pulled up the various social media apps and scrolled through, wasting far too much time. And what inevitably happened every time, I found myself on a book review site, reading recent reviews. I told myself not to. I’d even deleted the app a few times, but no matter what, the curiosity drove me to it. I wasn’t even aware I was biting my nails until a sharp pain made me gasp. I’d bitten right down to the quick.

Drew looked over at the sound, and he frowned, taking in my position. My shoulders were drawn up to my ears, my arms and legs pulled close in a defensive posture, as though needing physical protection from the bad reviews.

He reached over and plucked my phone from my hand, checking what had made me so tense. “Jordan, you have to stop reading these.”

“But they’re my readers, and I’m just trying to get a sense of what they’re looking for. For research,” I tacked on.

He frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re torturing yourself, analyzing every word they say.” He glanced at my phone, scoffing. “One of these reviews says your book was too short, while the next one says it’s too long and that you needed to cut a hundred pages of fluff. What are you supposed to do about that?”

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