Caleb moves over to the couch and flops down on it. The movement sends a whiff of his deodorant my way, and my nostrils flare.
“Man, I’m pooped.”
I glance at the bits of cardboard and tape scattered around the carpet. Not to mention the boxes flattened out but stacked near the apartment door, waiting to be taken down. Apparently, this is clean enough for him.
I think he lied to me a little when he said he was the neatest man I’d ever meet. But part of me knew that, and I accepted this anyway.
My skin starts to itch, but I stop myself from getting up to vacuum. I can wait until he leaves.
I really can.
Caleb grunts and runs a hand up under his shirt, dragging it up his stomach.
My mouth waters as I stare at it.
How does one get so many abs? It can’t be normal. He must be on something to grow like that.
“God, I need a massage. Like, fuck, even my asshole hurts.”
I’m almost positive he’s not asking me for a massage—or for me to check on his asshole. But then again, I have no fucking idea when it comes to this guy. I met him for two minutes, showed him around my small apartment, and then slid him the contract to sign.
I usually never act this rashly. And yet, I went and got myself a roommate who looks like his body is chiseled from marble.
He puts a shoe up on the couch and reaches down to his ass, massaging those globes with no shame whatsoever.
I clear my throat, and his head turns slightly.
“Shoe off the couch, please,” I say, and he grunts, removing it and blushing a little.
“Sorry. I’ll be really good. Promise. Just learning the ropes, you know?”
I nod and turn my gaze back to the Kindle, the words I’m supposed to be reading morphing into rippling letters. They float around the screen, and I can’t make sense of any of them.
But I manage to keep my wits about me and don’t peer over at him. I just read the same sentence repeatedly until I hear soft snores coming from the couch he’s draped on.
It’s only then that I let my gaze swivel his way. His hand is down his pants, the other shoved up under his shirt, exposing most of his abdomen and part of his groin.
I stand up and move quietly to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.
I may even need a cold shower.
Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that because Caleb wakes a little while later and leaves the apartment to go to the gym. Finally, I’m left to vacuum the carpet in peace. When I’m done thoroughly cleaning up after Caleb, I carry the boxes out to the trash and then take a long shower with very hot water.
Not a cold drop to be found.
When I’m dressed in my pajamas, hair and teeth brushed, I wander around the apartment. The space feels so different from what it was just hours ago. It’s full now. Alive.
I can feel the essence of it burrow beneath my skin, and I shiver slightly.
My eyes turn to his unmade bed, the sheets mismatched, the pillowcase on halfway. My fingers flex near my sides, and I’m unable to stop myself. I walk across the room and rearrange it all. By the time I step back, the sheets are folded neatly, the pillowcase is put on properly, and I may have even folded some clothes he had discarded sloppily on the end of the bed.
I really shouldn’t do this. He’ll get used to it.
He’ll expect it. I’ll end up a maid on top of a roommate, but fuck, he’s messy.
So opposite of me.
The door to the apartment opens, and I panic slightly. Without thinking, I launch into my bed, grabbing a magazine from the dresser and pulling it up to my face. Caleb is humming under his breath, slightly off-key, as he walks into the bathroom and slams the door.
