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“Right.” I think about the sound she made when I tangled my tongue with hers. “That would be bad.”
“Yes.” She stutters a breath. “Bad.”
There’s a stretch of icy silence.
“So we should be able to do this roommate thing without it being awkward,” I say, not really sure I believe myself, but hoping we can make this work. We have to.
“Agreed,” Karli replies. She picks at the cooked veggies on her plate with her fork as we talk. “But only if we call a truce.”
I nod, slowly turning to grab the little notebook and pencil sitting on the counter. “Truces only work with rules. How about we make some house rules for us to live by from here on out?”
“Fine.”Her head bobs once. “Bathroom schedule is number one,” she says urgently, grabbing the paper from me and writing down some times for our shower usage.
I pluck the pencil from her. “And food—whatever groceries I buy are yours to use. No need for any complicated rules there.”
Karli smiles smugly and swipes the pencil back from me. “Thanks for the offer but I don’t think I’ll be consuming any of your freezer meals any time soon.” I roll my eyes at her before she generously adds, “And the same goes for you. Help yourself to anything I cook.”
“Thank you.”
“We clean up our own messes,” she says next. “My last roommates were absolute slobs. I’m not living like that again.”
“Fine by me.” I shrug.
The bossy lady just keeps going with her house rules. “And no late night guests of the opposite sex,” she adds to our list.
At that one, I shoot her a look. What are we, twelve?
Quirking a brow at me, she explains, “Trust me—as someone who has lived in this house for most of my life, I’ll tell you that the walls here are paper thin. It’s only respectful.”
My mind is momentarily attacked by the thought of being stuck in my room and having to listen to another man fucking Karli’s brains out all night. My blood immediately starts to boil. I quickly hop on board with this new rule. “Okay. Deal.”
We lean over the counter, taking turns scribbling down rules that should make our living situation a little easier to tolerate. When we’re done, we read it over together.
“This will be our peace treaty,” Karli declares, grabbing a yellow banana magnet.
As she affixes our sheet of house rules to the fridge door, I catch her smiling to herself.
I stroll up to where she’s standing in front of the fridge. “What are you grinning about?” I feel my mouth swing into a half-smile of my own as I observe her. Fuck—I like seeing her smile.
One narrow shoulder pops up to her ear. “I’m just surprised that we managed to get along for more than a few minutes.”
“Maybe this roommates thing might work out after all,” I toss out like a challenge. I grin at her.
When she grins back, I feel a tug in my chest. It’s so hard that I have to look away. I glance at the rules on the fridge again.
“All right. Truce, roomie.” I reach out to Karli, offering her my hand.
She glances down at my hand doubtfully. Like she’s scared to touch me.
My head tilts to the side. “Karli—it’s not a treaty if we don’t seal it with a handshake.”
Her suspicious eyes bounce up to mine and I can see the smile she’s suppressing. It’s forcing the corners of her lips upward even as she fights it. “Fine.”
She tucks her warm, small palm inside of mine. A fiery charge of electricity eats up my nerve endings as I’m reminded of the way it felt to have her skin on mine in the most intimate way just a few nights ago.
Karli is the first one to pull away, that protective, untrusting expression coming over her face again. Her pretty, pretty face.
Shit. Everything she does right now is chipping away at my self-restraint. I need to get out of here.
