Conventionally Yours (True Colors 1)

“We overslept.” Captain Obvious glared down at me. Which, since Alden’s hair was hopelessly rumpled and his T-shirt half-bunched-up, was pretty comical.

“You might wait until you deal with the bedhead before you lecture me. How late are we talking?” I sat up, letting the covers pool around my waist. I’d worn a T-shirt to sleep in, something I seldom did, and it was all sticky. So much for trying to keep the peace and not shock Alden—now I was sweaty and grungy and still getting complaints.

“It’s almost nine. I never sleep until nine.” Alden sounded horrified at his body’s disobedience. I’d already figured out that he was a guy who loved his order and routine, but he seriously needed to chill.

“It’s not noon. We’ll make up time. You want to raid the breakfast stuff? I’ll take the world’s fastest shower since I didn’t get one last night.”

“Fine. I want to change first.” Alden scooped up some clothes from his suitcase.

“You can change in front of me, you know. Not gonna offend me. I’ve seen—”

“I know.” Alden bustled off to the bathroom, all Victorian maiden princess, as if I couldn’t be trusted to see a cute guy and—

Hold up. What the hell? Since when had Alden fallen into the cute guy category?

True, my preferences—the same ones Alden didn’t seem to think I had—did tend to run to a certain type. I was happy to leave macking on older guys to Payton and the whole love for muscle-bound jocks to Jasper. For myself, I dug guys my own age and had a thing for ones shorter than me. Not that I wanted to feel like I was on stilts or the Incredible Hulk, but ever since my first kiss with a slightly built science geek, I’d liked that body type a lot. And I supposed Alden’s bossy nature counted as the sort of vivid personality that usually drew me in.

But even if Alden technically fit the profile, my body had never really registered that before yesterday when all that proximity had apparently corroded my common sense. In so many other ways though, he was far from my type—too prickly, too adverse to fun, too rule-driven, and too immune to my charm. I needed to remember all that before I went labeling him cute and making everything far more complicated than it needed to be.

But then he came out of the bathroom, and something about his freshly combed hair and minty scent made my brain trip over itself again. I stayed confused through a lightning-fast shower. When I emerged, Alden had food and our bags by the door.

“Bananas? Yogurt? Cereal? You trying to clean up my act?” I faked outrage as I accepted the food, grateful he’d gotten enough that we wouldn’t need to buy breakfast.

“Complex carbohydrates are digested slower by the body. You won’t get hungry as fast. You hungry is…a problem.”

My head tilted as I tried to decode his meaning. “Is that your way of saying you care?”

“No.” Alden swallowed audibly, and his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink.

No, not adorable. Bad Conrad. Bad. I tried to lecture myself away from dangerous lines of thinking.

“Well, thanks. Give me a second to eat and then I’ll drive.”

“I can drive. You got exhausted yesterday.” Alden continued his surprising turn as caretaker as we made our way to the car. It made my chest warm. I wasn’t used to being worried over, at least not in the past few years.

“Let me get us through St. Louis—the interchanges can be tricky with the bridges, and I’ve at least driven there a few times.” It might be nice to be cared about, but I also didn’t want him thinking that I needed babying.

“All right. But I’m keeping an eye on your total drive time.” Alden legit took out his phone and set some sort of timer. My brain continued its dance down that crazy path as I wondered whether he’d be so rigid about taking turns in bed or whether he’d finally let go of all that tightly held control and…

Not helping anything, Conrad. Stop. I forced myself to focus on getting back to the highway. Once we were underway, the Illinois farmland started to give way to more built-up suburbs.

“There’s good pizza in Columbia. Maybe that can be lunch.” Even with all the food Alden had brought from the breakfast buffet, I was already looking forward to my next meal.

“Are the slices square?” Alden sounded more suspicious than interested.

“Triangles. Promise. The square thing is all over St. Louis, but this is good stuff in a little college town. You’ll like it. They even have a whole-wheat crust for your health-nut side.”

“I’m not that healthy. Regular New York–style white crust is fine. No pepperoni or sausage.”

“You’ve got it. Is the no-pork thing religious or just preference?”