Page 47 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

Sure, he’s been amicable today. He even bought me a phone, though he’s adamant it’s only because he wants to make sure he can get ahold of me when I have Peanut. Pretty damn thoughtful, nonetheless.

But how long will it last? Until the next time he wants to get laid, and I have to overhear it? Until Marty finds a new way to contact me and ruins everything? Until my guilt finally eats me alive, and there’s nothing left of me?

No, thank you.

“I have work tonight,” he informs me from the driver’s seat.

“Okay.”

“Want me to pick you up some food on the way home?”

Home.

I smile tightly. “Whatever you want.”

He slips on his sunglasses. “Still a Burrito Bandito fan?”

“Did Grizzly Adams have a beard?” I counter.

His chuckle eases a bit of the tension in my chest as he pulls onto the main road. And a few minutes later, without bothering to ask what I’d like to eat, he orders my favorite tacos and drops me off at his home. The one starting to feel an awful lot like my own.

13

Maddie

Car keys in hand, I go through my mental checklist while standing by the front door to be sure I’m not missing anything.

Recently fed baby with a clean diaper?Check.

Two extra outfits and a dozen extra diapers in case baby decides to have another blowout?Check.

I touch the diaper bag’s strap on my shoulder before unzipping the bag to look inside.

Fully charged phone in case of emergency?Check.

“Where are you going?” Milo asks, his footsteps echoing from the kitchen as he makes his way toward me.

With a half-eaten apple in his hand, he takes another bite, his strong jaw flexing. My mouth waters. He got back from the gym about thirty minutes ago, and his hair is still damp from the shower. The shower I could’ve sworn I heard him grunting in while I was feeding Penny, convinced he’d brought another girl home. But when we ran into each other in the hall afterward, he was blissfully alone. I hate how I noticed and have been imagining him having sex. Period.

It’s been a few days since our little trip to the phone store, and I dislike how easily it’s been to acclimate to our new routine. Comfortable, even.

Shaking off the thought, I answer him. “I, uh, I need to go to the vital records office to change Penny’s name from Baby Girl to, ya know, Penny.”

“Let me grab some shoes. I’ll meet you out front.”

“You want to come?” I ask, surprised.

“That a problem?” He takes another bite of his apple, holding my gaze as he chews slowly, his damn dimples teasing me the whole time.

I blink, forcing my attention to the ground instead of on his stupidly handsome face. “No. It’s just…I’m sure you have plans and don’t you work tonight? I don’t want you to feel obligated––”

“Meet you out front.” He digs his keys from his pocket and tosses them to me. “We’ll take my car.”

The scent of his cologne––or hell, maybe it’s his natural scent––wafts through the air as he moves past me and takes the stairs two at a time to his room.

I swear. This guy is the most unpredictable creature I’ve ever met. I shake my head and grab Penny’s car seat, lugging it out to his car, convinced I’m crazy for actually going along with his orders.

As I close the back door of his Subaru minutes later, Milo swaggers toward me and takes the keys from my hand, our fingertips brushing against each other.

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