Roommate Material

“Oh,” I mumbled stupidly. “What do you do there? You a paralegal or something?”

Tia frowned at this, a little indignant. She crossed her arms defensively against her chest, standing with a hip popped out to the side. “No,” she said firmly. “I’ve been hired as a junior associate.”

“You’re a lawyer?” I asked, sounding a bit more surprised than necessary.

“Women can be lawyers, you know.”

“No, yeah. I know. That’s cool,” I rushed over my words.

“Money’s a little tight for me right now,” she went on to explain. “I’m still trying to pay for law school, and my move to New York was really rushed. But I promise I’m good for the money.”

I scratched behind my ear, thoroughly taken by this woman. Smart, gorgeous, hard-working. Molly was right. This was a career woman, not some young thing I could dazzle easily.

“If you need me to sign a lease or something, I’m happy to do it,” Tia continued, sounding as official as ever.

“Sure,” I said. “How about I take you out to dinner? We can sign the papers over a glass of wine and–”

“Dinner sounds great, but…” she hesitated. She bit her bottom lip again, the image of her nervous little gesture etching itself into the back of my eyes. God, I wanted so badly to kiss those attractive lips. “I’m not… I’m here in New York to work, not to hook-up. I hope you understand.”

Ah, crap. This was going to be harder than I had thought.

“Of course,” I lied. “I completely understand.”

3

Tia

Alex hadn’t been lying about shipping a brand-new bed for me. It had arrived within hours of him placing the order over the phone. He had been talking to someone on the other end, speaking in a low, charming way that had me entranced like a snake to its charmer. I had to admit that turning him down last night had taken all the guts I had, because hot damn was he fine. When he opened the door for me yesterday, I swear to God I almost passed out. Alex was classically handsome, what with his square jaw, trimmed blond hair, and ripped muscles on every inch of his sculpted body. I had never fainted before, but for a few seconds there, I was worried that I’d make like an old-school Hollywood diva and fall into his arms.

But I knew his type: rich boy alpha males who love the thrill of the chase but turn cold once they’ve got what they want. And yes, he was doing me a huge favor by letting me stay in his spare bedroom, but I couldn’t afford a single night of fun over a secure place to stay. I couldn’t allow myself to cave, wouldn’t allow myself to give in to the temptation and risk losing yet another place to stay. But boy, did I really, really want to.

I imagined what it would be like to have him hold me in those massive, strong arms of his. All night, I was plagued with thoughts of his weight against me, pinning me to the mattress as he had his way with me. I wondered what it would feel like to drag my fingers over his taught skin, to count his sculpted abs with my fingers and dig my teeth into his broad shoulders. I bet that his lips would feel great against mine, the heat of our bodies spurring us on as we explored our deepest, darkest wants.

I awoke that morning with a bit of a start, hair clumsily falling over my face as the scent of frying bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted into my room. I threw on a pair of grey sweats and a bright yellow t-shirt that was three sizes too big –my favorite pajama shirt– before finally leaving the comforts of my new room and shuffling down the long hall. I poked my head around the corner, watching silently as Alex moved about the open-concept kitchen. He was cooking up a storm, piles of pancakes and toast stacked on plates on the kitchen island. Was I still asleep and dreaming? I had to pinch myself on the forearm to confirm that I wasn’t. There was no way Alex could eat all this by himself, so the logical conclusion that I landed on was that he was making breakfast for me. It felt like a grand, romantic gesture that left my heart skipping in my chest.

“Good morning,” he greeted in that sexy, low voice of his. He had a face and body for film and a set of vocal chords meant for radio. I could listen to him all day.

“Good morning,” I whispered. “Is this… You didn’t do all this for me, did you?”

“No,” he chuckled. God, I don’t know why his grin made me feel so freaking bubbly. “I cook breakfast every morning. Figured you’d like some so you’ve got plenty of energy. For your first day, that is.”