Page 44 of The Roommate Problem
Chapter Thirteen
Mo woke up feeling like she’d slept in a big warm marshmallow. Not that she knew what sleeping in a marshmallow felt like. Actually, it sounded kind of sticky and gross. And nothing about last night had been even remotely gross. It had been wonderful, amazing, surprising…and a million other pretty words she couldn’t put names to right now. She was too busy enjoying sharing her bed with the sexiest man alive.
Second sexiest.
Sadly, Idris Elba had once again not magically shown up on her doorstep to whisk her off into the night. But August was certainly giving the sexy Brit a run for his money in her top ten men lineup.
They were crammed onto her bed, which up until this point she’d never seen as small. When Lilly and Pru had lived here, they’d all agreed not to bring dates home, so she’d never had a man in her bed with her before. It really highlighted the tininess of a full mattress. On the other hand, it lent itself to cuddles.
She still couldn’t believe she got August to agree to come in here last night. After the shower, where they’d gotten clean and worked themselves up again, it had taken very little effort to drag him into her bedroom. Of course, she had been naked, and she was coming to discover the man would do just about anything she asked of him when naked.
Sucker.
She chuckled to herself, knowing she was no better. He didn’t even have to be full commando. Just show her a hint of those scrumptious abs and Mo would probably eat brussels sprouts. Maybe. For brussels sprouts, she might need an ass shot, too.
August grunted in his sleep, his arm tightening around her waist where he’d held her securely all night long. It had honestly been the most restful night of sleep she’d gotten in…ever. A glance to her bedside clock told her she was up before her alarm. That never happened. She had four snooze settings just to make sure she got out of bed.
She reached over to turn the alarm off, since she was already awake. The thing was set to foghorn loud—she really hated getting up in the morning—and she didn’t want to disturb August. He made an adorable sound of protest as she leaned out of his grasp to flick off the alarm setting. Who would have thought Grumpy Gus Gus would be such a cuddler? Not her.
As she started to lay back down in bed, her gaze caught on the pile of laundry by her hamper, or more specifically, the lack of pile. Her hamper appeared full, not a scrap of dirty clothing on the floor anywhere. In fact, as she looked around, her entire bedroom appeared to be straightened up. Shoes were placed neatly in the closet instead of tossed casually about the room. Her books had been organized and…alphabetized? And look at that, they all actually fit on the shelf when they were stacked properly. Who would have guessed?
Even the clutter of makeup she kept on top of her dresser had been tidied. The whole room looked like a magic cleaning fairy had come during the night. Like the times Lilly just couldn’t take it anymore and barged into her room with rubber gloves and a mission to clean. Oh, she missed those times. Missed coming back from the bar to a magically clean room. But since Lilly didn’t live here anymore, there was only one other person who could have done it.
She turned in the bed, rolling over to face the large, redheaded cleaning fairy sleeping peacefully next to her. “Did you clean my room?” she demanded, waffling between annoyance that he touched her things without permission and gratitude that she didn’t have to clean her mess herself.
August made a grunting sound, inhaling deeply, his jaw cracking open with a yawn. “Huh?”
“My room,” she repeated. “It’s clean. Did you get up in the middle of the night and clean it?”
His eyes opened, their hazel depths still hazy with sleep and sexual satisfaction.
He lifted one shoulder in a semi-shrug. “Yeah. I couldn’t sleep in all this mess, so I picked up a bit. Is that okay?”
She couldn’t be mad at a man who sent her to the stars last night and completed her most hated chore. Grateful it was, then.
“You cleaned my room in the middle of the night because it was too dirty to sleep in?” She laughed. “You are such a weirdo.”
“Hey!”
“It’s okay.” She leaned down to kiss his lips because she wanted to and she could. “I’m a weirdo, too.”
“You’re not a weirdo.” He reached out, tugging on a strand of her hair. “You’re unique.”
Which was just another way people said weird. But that was fine. She was okay with being weird. Better than being boring.
“So what’s with the pink?” he asked, twirling her hair around his finger.
“It was up.”
“Up?”
Scooting closer, she reached out a hand to play with the coarse, curly auburn hairs on his chest. Seemed only fair, since he was playing with her hair.
“I like dyeing my hair fun colors. Blonde, brown, black, and red are so boring.”
“Red is boring?” he asked with an arched brown.
“Not natural red,” she said with a wink. “I’m constantly changing up the color, and this time I went pink.”
