Roomie Wars Box Set

He turns swiftly, the biggest grin on his face as he throws his sweats down toward his ankles. I’m just about to position myself when one of the babies starts crying.

Letting out a loud, frustrated groan, he buries his head in his hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Show’s over. And that, my love, is the biggest cockblocker ever.”

We eventually hit the six-week mark, and despite Drew’s distaste for rubbers, there’s no chance in hell I want to fall pregnant again anytime soon.

And six weeks becomes this huge milestone. The babies begin to open their eyes more, showcasing their facial expressions which I’m certain to capture several times on video.

Henry is a Momma’s boy. He wants to be held all the time making it impossible for me to get anything done, whereas Oliver is happy to be sitting in his bouncer and stare at the black-and-white soft toys which hang from above.

On top of trying to learn the ropes of motherhood which not one or those stupid books prepared me for—we are packing to move to Australia in two short weeks.

The herbal tea is sitting on the coffee table, steam rising against the sun shining into the room. The boys are down for their afternoon nap, buying us two hours if we’re lucky. Two hours to secure a tenant to rent this place out during our stay down under.

Drew walks the first prospective tenant in. Her name is Harmony, aged forty-three, a yoga instructor and lover of animals.

“So, you love animals?” I ask, looking at her application. “Do you have any pets of your own?”

Harmony’s posture is perfect, her yoga pants and dry-fit tank matching while sitting loose against her thin frame.

“No, I d

on’t. I believe animals need to be in their intended sanctuary. An apartment is no place for a pet.”

Thank God. I don’t want the apartment to smell like dog. Drew must have sensed my relief, eyeing me dubiously which distracts me from the list of questions queued in my overly-tired brain.

“Your application looks good.” Drew quickly reads the paper before reverting his attention back to her. “Do you have any questions for us?”

Her slim face breaks into a forced smile, gazing around the room. I follow her lead, my eyes aimlessly staring out our surroundings trying to decipher her thoughts.

“I’m not looking for a furnished place,” she tells us.

“We are moving to Australia, so taking our items would be rather costly,” Drew mentions, releasing a breath while trying to remain professional.

“I don’t really care for pineapples. I’m allergic to them.”

And we’re done.

I stand quickly extending my hand. “Thank you, Harmony, for your application. We’ll be in touch soon.”

My lips pinch together, eyes wide demanding Drew show her out. He catches on, showing her out and returning a few moments later.

“Really, Zo?” He shakes his head, disappointed. “She wouldn’t have trashed the place.”

“She’s allergic to pineapples. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”

Frustrated and mouthing words which I purposely ignore, he heads to the door and lets in the next applicant.

Sebastian Gosling—thirty years old and profession, fireman.

I don’t even have a second to process fireman as Drew introduces me to Sebastian. Hot-diggity-damn. This man is quite something else, muscular if I’m being honest is the first word that comes to mind.

He extends his hand. “Sebastian Gosling.”

“Zoey Richards.”

Drew clears his throat, rather loudly. “Baldwin. My wife has baby brain.”