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Clara bit the inside of her cheek. Josh packed a powerful punch of allure to begin with, but her inner nerd started panting at the sight of him with readers.
“Splitting utilities. Fine. A chart outlining weekly cleaning responsibilities. Very organized. We’ll need to pick up some of these supplies you listed. I don’t think we’ve got organic furniture polish.” His tongue peeked out between his teeth as he scanned the rest of the page, giving the occasional nod. “I see you’ve entrusted me with changing lightbulbs.”
Josh glanced over to where she stood, awkwardly lingering by the doorway, and gave her short frame a once-over. “Makes sense.”
He flipped the sheet. “Quiet hours from midnight to five a.m. Okay. That’s reasonable . . . but you’re missing a bunch of stuff.”
Clara folded her arms. “Like what?”
“Like sex.”
Her pulse broke into a gallop. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what’s the plan if we’re . . . you know.” He made a pumping motion with his fist.
Clara swallowed the lump in her throat. “You mean like a scrunchie on the doorknob?”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “What the fuck is a scrunchie?”
In answer, she retrieved one from her makeup bag and flung it at him like a slingshot.
He caught the soft material in front of his chest and tested the hair tie’s durability between his fingers.
Clara averted her eyes again. So he has nice hands. Big whoop. “Haven’t you ever seen an eighties sex comedy?”
“Oh, I see,” Josh said. “I thought they used tube socks.”
“Maybe guys use tube socks. Let’s assume any item decorating the doorknob means do not disturb.” Normally she would have fought against a tacky dorm room signal, but she figured her lack of a sex life would keep her from having to employ this particular rule.
“Okay. That’s cool. Although I’ve gotta warn you, these walls are thin. When I moved in on Sunday, I could hear Everett and the manic pixie dream girl he brought home going at it like I had a front-row ticket.”
Clara inhaled sharply. Of course, she knew Everett hadn’t been celibate for the last ten years, but she hadn’t had cause to picture him with other women . . . and in the bed she had slept in last night. Could she get away with burning the sheets if she replaced them?
“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry,” Josh said.
She must have made a face. Clara quickly schooled her features back to calm.
“If it makes you feel better, she made this super annoying screeching sound when she came.”
Clara fought the urge to gag. “Let’s move on.”
Josh squinted at the ceiling. “Hmm.” He snapped his fingers. “What are you afraid of?”
“Excuse me?”
“Like if you’re afraid of snakes or big dogs or cotton balls, I should know so I can protect you.”
She squinted. “You realize one of those things is not like the others?”
“What about mice, cockroaches, opossums?”
“Exactly how many kinds of vermin do you think live here?”
Josh rolled his shoulders. “I’m trying to prepare myself, as your roommate.”
Clara saw his point. She stared at the carpet. “I’m afraid of driving.”
“But . . . you moved to L.A.?”
