The Roommate Agreement(3)

Because let me tell you this: I do not need to get turned on while flipping pancakes in the morning. Or making a ham sandwich. Or cooking dinner. Or sweeping the floors because the man has the schedule of a two-year-old who’s been left in charge of the day’s activities.

Not like me. No. I like my schedule. I wake up at the same time, eat at the same time, work at the same time and, for the most part, sleep at the same time.

A bit like a cat.

No matter how anal Jay tells me I am, it doesn’t change this: I work from home. If I don’t have a schedule and set work hours, I’ll spend all day lounging in front of the TV wearing last week’s sweatpants and no bra while eating my weight in Cheetos.

Then I’d need three roomies to pay the rent, and I was just about coping with one.

I picked my phone up from where I’d left it on my bed and checked it. I had a ton of Instagram notifications, so I sat down and scrolled, clearing all of those before I checked my email.

I had an email from earlier this morning asking about my ghostwriting rates, so I tapped out a quick response with a note that I hoped to hear from them soon.

Two knocks rattled my door right as I clicked off the email app. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Jay’s voice crept through the crack.

“Sure.”

The door creaked open, and he poked his head through the gap. “I cleaned up. I couldn’t find the vacuum, but I did find the broom and swept, so that’s halfway there.”

It wasn’t, but I’d already gotten on his back enough today. “Thanks. I can vacuum soon. I have some work to do while you’re out and it’s quiet.”

He nodded, pulling his lips up to one side. “I’ll buy you two packets of Oreos on the way back from work. How’s that for an apology?”

“It’s a start,” I replied, trying to glare at him, but my smile was too intense to fight. “Thank you.”

“I’d say you’re welcome, but I owe you.” He shrugged. “I’m going to work. Do you need me to grab anything else while I’m at the store?”

“Do you know where the dishwasher tablets are?”

He stared at me like I was speaking Japanese.

I sighed. “Just water, then. Go to work, loser.”

He grinned and did just that.





CHAPTER TWO – SHELBY


Get The Fuck Off My Oreos



Brie looked at me across the table, a fry dangling between her finger and thumb. “Really? Again?”

I nodded. “All my Oreos.”

“Of course you’d focus on the Oreos and not the mess.”

“Actually, focusing on my Oreos is the only thing making me not freak the fuck out about the mess.” I paused, reaching for my cocktail. “I don’t know if I can do it anymore, Brie. I don’t want to kick him out, but I want my space back. I think he forgets who the apartment technically belongs to.”

She dipped the fry into ketchup and shoved it into her mouth. “It’s like having an overgrown child living with you, right?”

I nodded again, sucking on my straw.

“When Sean moved in, I wanted to claw out my eyeballs with a fork. He’d lived alone for so long that he had zero semblance of anyone else’s space,” she said, referring to her long-term boyfriend who’d moved into her apartment. “It’s been six months, and honestly, he’s only just getting it. I spent far too long hoping he’d just realize it before I broke down and set rules. I don’t think he pays attention half the time.”

“I shouldn’t have to set rules. He’s twenty-six. I’ve been complaining about it for almost the entire time he’s lived there.”

“Yes, but Jay’s too used to living his bachelor lifestyle.” She picked up her own drink and curved her black eyebrows upward. “And you’re too used to living the introvert life.”

“The introvert life is the only one worth living. No phone calls, no random drop-in visitors, I don’t have to wear pants…” I trailed off because that wasn’t entirely true.

Now, I had to wear pants.

It just wasn’t the same when I was making pancakes. Pants were restrictive.

“Yes, yes, I know. I stopped dropping by unannounced when you answered the door in a thong and a thin tank top.”

I shrugged. “I looked through the peephole. I knew it was you.”

“It was fucking tactical, and you know it.”

“Of course it was. I don’t like surprise guests.” I grinned. “Which is why it’s so distressing when Robin Hood and his band of merry men descend on my living room to watch football. There isn’t nearly enough space for all their muscles, never mind enough doors to block out their couch-coaching.”

I was being a whiny bitch. I knew it. I also didn’t give a shit.

“Tell me about it. Sean was there last night when we went to the wine bar. I found out when I got home to him being stupid drunk and yelling abuse at an invisible Jason Garrett.”

I finished my drink. “Sounds about right. Jay admitted this morning that he’d had the guys around without telling me. I only knew because they’d drunk all my water.”

Brie groaned, running her hand through her black hair. “They’re such children. They have no respect.”