Page 103 of Roommating

I drop his hand and straighten my back to emphasize the seriousness of this conversation. “We have to buddy-readSunrise on the Reaping.”

Adam flicks his wrist. “Easy. What else?”

“I’m not sure you’re going to like this one.” I bite my lip.

His gaze travels to my mouth and stays there. “Let me be the judge.”

“You can’t wear a shirt while flipping our mattress. Or whilebaking dog and non-dog treats. In fact…” I say, tilting my head back and forth and tapping a finger to my lips. “You’ll be prohibited from wearing a shirt about seventy-five percent of the time.”

He nods. “Like when I’m really, really cold.”

“Yup. And when we have guests over.” I wave my hand in front of his chest. “I don’t want you flaunting allthisto other people.” I assume a serious expression and shrug. “You in or out?”

Without hesitation, he says, “I’m in.” Then he drops my hands and scratches his head. “What will my grams say?”

Normally, bringing up one’s grandma in the midst of a grand gesture would be a turnoff, or at least awkward, but not this time. “It was her idea.”

His cheeks glow. “She’s so smart.”

“The smartest.” I can’t stop smiling. “I can’t stop smiling.”

“I have a solution for that.” He pins his eyes on me, heavy lidded and smoldering.

I know where this is going and check my left and right for spectators, but when I turn back to Adam, he’s only looking at me. “No sneaking around anymore.” He lowers his head and brushes his lips against mine, at first feathery light but then deeper and more passionately, releasing one of his hands to place it on the back of my head. I use mine to tug his T-shirt and draw him even closer.

I picture the scene as captured through the window of the bookstore. Two people kissing in a room surrounded by books with pages and pages of fictional love scenes and happily-ever-afters.

But none are more romantic than ours.