Distracted by that thought, I watched him as he pulled some clothes from his bag and headed to the bathroom. When the door closed behind him, I thought about that quick peek he’d taken. At me. At my legs. But I threw a sheet over the couch and told myself that I wouldn’t dwell on it. They were nice, female legs. And Lucas… was into that. Women. Legs, apparently. So what?
If he were to stroll out of that bathroom showing off his calves, I’d do the same. Heck, I’d done it this morning, when he’d been wearing nothing but a—
“You really didn’t need to prepare the couch for me, Rosie.”
Lucas’s voice came from somewhere behind me. I was ready to tell him he had another thing coming if he thought he’d be sleeping on the couch again, that I was preparing it for myself, but the words died on the tip of my tongue when I turned and encountered the sight before me.
It wasn’t naked calves.
It was far, far better than that.
It was Lucas. In sweatpants—graysweatpants—and a thin cotton tee.
But thesweatpants.
They hung low on his hips, and the fabric clung to his legs. His oh-so-not-naked calves. And his two strong-looking thighs. And those much, much more interesting parts that hung right in between.
And I— Jesus, what the hell was I doing?
There were about a hundred rules in theRoommate Handbook for Civil and Not Creepy Cohabitationthat I might have broken by looking at his crotch. Even through the fabric of his sweats. Which wasn’t leaving much to my—
“Rosie?”
Feeling my cheeks flaming hot, I dragged my gaze back to his face.
Lucas was smiling. Grinning, really. As big as I’d ever seen.
“Sorry,” I breathed out, the blush I knew was covering my face spreading throughout my whole body. “Did you… hum… Did you say something?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and the cotton of his shirt stretched. Goddammit. “I said many things, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh, okay.” I swallowed. “Anything… important that we should discuss?”
He pointed behind me. “Yeah, that you’re not sleeping there. But that’s not open for discussion.”
“Why not?” I frowned. “It was part of the deal.”
Lucas drifted in my direction. Leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world to stroll across the small studio. He stopped only when he was right in front of me.
“Rosie,” he said in a low, warning voice that made my stomach flop for some reason. “Take the bed.” He smiled, but it wasn’t lighthearted and fun. “Don’t make me fight you over this. Because I will.”
How?That part of me that had my stomach flip-flopping wanted to ask him.How would you fight me exactly?
But instead, I murmured, “Fine.” I decamped to the bed on the other side of the studio. I huffed as I threw the covers back and slipped in. “We’ll see who takes it tomorrow night.”
“We’ll see,” he added right before turning the lights off. “Roomie.”
I heard Lucas ruffle with his blankets, and I forced my eyelids shut so I wouldn’t search for his shape in the dark. So I wouldn’t make a big deal out of this. Lucas Martín, sleeping a few feet away from me. In his outrageous gray sweatpants.
“Rosie?” he called, in what couldn’t have been more than a minute later. “Are you still awake?”
My eyelids lifted. “Yeah.”
“Me, too.”
I laughed lightly. “It’s only been about… sixty-five seconds since we turned the lights off, so I’d be surprised if you were sound asleep.”
“I could be narcoleptic for all you know, smarty-pants.”