The Roommate Agreement

“You know, for someone who said we weren’t exclusive, sharing a room is pretty damn serious.” Laughter glinted in his eyes.

I shrugged. “I’m a planner. I like to plan. Like I said, it all depends on whether I kill you or not. We might not even make it past three dates.”

“We’ll make it past three dates.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because.” He walked around the island, coming to me, and spun me around on the stool. He plucked the pen from my fingers and set it down, smiling down at me.

“Because what?”

His fingers tingled as they brushed my skin and pushed some hair behind my ear. “Because three dates means you’re my girlfriend whether you like it or not, and then nobody else ever has to see my embarrassing baby pictures.”

My lips thinned. “It’s nice to know you want to date me to keep those under wraps.”

“I figure you’ll find a way to share them with just about everyone at some point,” he continued. “But this will delay it for a couple of years, at least.”

“I think you’re insane. I might put them on Facebook tomorrow. Your mom will share them with me in a heartbeat.”

“My mother is a traitor.”

“She’s the best. I might date you just so I can eventually marry you and have her be my mother-in-law.”

“So you’d marry me for my mother?”

I nodded. “You go find yourself another girl like that. Go on. I’ll wait.”

He trapped me against the island by putting his hands on either side of me. “I don’t want to find another girl like that. I like the one I have in front of me just fine.”

“I’ve gone from hot as fuck to just fine really fast.”

“Yeah, but you’ve gone from liking me without pants on to marrying me for my mother, so we’re about even.”

I grinned, leaning back on my elbows. “Well I’m not ever going to marry you for your domestic skills, that’s for sure.”

“Ah, but that’s why I’d marry you. I’m good in bed; you’re good with a vacuum…”

“I could knee you in the balls right now, and then the only thing you’d be in bed would be useless.”

He laughed, leaning closer to me. “Ah, are we out of the honeymoon phase already?”

“Jay, the honeymoon phase upped and left the day you moved in here. It’ll start again when you pick up your socks.”

“Fucking socks.” He pushed off the island and stormed toward the hall.

The sound of my bedroom door opening and closing filled the air, and I laughed when he came back in, waved the socks, and stalked off to his room to toss them in the laundry basket.

“I picked up the damn socks,” he announced, coming back over to stand in front of me. “Are you happy now?”

“Would you like another Post-It sticker? I have tons.”

“No, I don’t want a fucking sticker. Honestly, woman, do you hear yourself?”

“Yes. I think I’m a genius.” I shrugged and looked up at him. “I wish someone would give me stickers. Like, ‘hey, Shelby, you hit your word count today! Have a sticker.’ Or, I answered all my emails. Or I cleared my to-do list. A girl needs some motivation, you know.”

“If I promise to buy you stickers tomorrow, will you take your pants off?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Depends how good the stickers are.” I wiggled my eyebrows as there was a knock at the door. That would be dinner.

I grabbed my wallet from the island and paid the guy, then took the pizza box and the salad containers and kicked the door shut behind him.

“Only one pizza?” Jay raised his eyebrows. “You surprise me.”

“Not really. It’s only pepperoni. I’m not putting any vegetables on my pizza.” I put everything down on the island and sat back down on the stool, putting the roommate agreement aside.

“Do we still need that now?” Jay sat next to me and pointed to the agreement. “I mean, I think we have it pretty figured out. I’m not the slob I once was.”

“It’s been two weeks since we put it together. You’ve done your laundry three times, and don’t think I didn’t notice you slipping t-shirts into my basket.”

“Shit. You noticed?”

“Yes. Funnily enough, I’m not a men’s large. I noticed.”

He gave me his sexiest smile. “I bet you’d look good in one, though.”

“Stop trying to charm me.” I wiggled my finger at him and prodded him in the shoulder. “We’re not in a relationship yet. We’re going to figure this out slowly. It doesn’t matter if we had sex last night—if having sex once is the criteria for being in a relationship, there are a whole lot of people out there cheating on their partners.”

He chuckled, leaning over to get cutlery for the salads from the drawer next to the fridge. “You’ve never had a one-night stand, have you?”