Page 64 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
She grinned, eyes still heavy-lidded. “Bacterial colonization is actually a complex process involving adhesion, multiplication, and biofilm formation. Though I suppose there have been plenty of bodily fluids involved, so the analogy isn’t completely inaccurate.”
“And there’s the science talk before coffee,” I groaned, but couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
We lay there in comfortable silence, neither of us rushing to start the day. Kate’s fingers traced lazy patterns on my chest, and I realized with startling clarity how much I would miss this when I returned to the team’s travel schedule. The thought of waking up alone in generic hotel rooms across the country suddenly seemed bleaker than it ever had before.
“What are you thinking about?” Kate asked, her eyes now fully alert and studying my face with that scientific precision I’d grown to love. “You’ve got that little crease between your eyebrows.”
“Travel schedule,” I admitted. “Once I’m back on the active roster.”
“Hmm.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “I’ve been thinking about that too. Did you know I can track bacterial growth remotely? With the right equipment, I could monitor experiments from anywhere.”
“Are you saying you could bring your lab bacteria on road trips?”
“God no. The TSA would have a complete meltdown.” She laughed. “But I could potentially work remotely for short periods. Not all the time, but maybe for longer road trips.”
The fact that she’d been thinking about ways to spend more time with me made something warm bloom in my chest.
“I’d like that,” I said, pulling her closer.
“But first, coffee,” she declared, rolling out of bed and pulling on my discarded t-shirt from yesterday. It hung to mid-thigh on her smaller frame, and the sight of her in my clothes did something primitive to my insides.
“Coffee can wait,” I suggested, reaching for her.
Kate danced away with a laugh. “Absolutely not. I have a breakthrough percolating in my brain, and I need caffeine to catalyze it.”
“You and your science metaphors,” I grumbled, throwing back the covers and pulling on a pair of sweatpants.
In the kitchen, Kate moved with surprising efficiency, having memorized my coffee routine despite her general chaos. I leaned against the counter watching her, struck by how seamlessly she’d integrated herself into my space. My precisely organized kitchen now had a “Kate corner” where her special bacteria-themed mug and collection of exotic teas lived. Somehow, I’d even started buying the specific brand of granola she liked.
“What?” she asked, catching me staring again as she handed me my coffee.
“Nothing,” I said, taking a sip. Perfect, exactly how I liked it.
We settled at the kitchen island, Kate perched on a stool with her legs tucked beneath her, scrolling through email on her phone while I started making eggs and toast. The domesticity of it all was both foreign and frighteningly comfortable.
“So,” I started, my heart suddenly racing faster than during playoff overtime, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous,” she quipped without looking up from her phone.
“I’m serious, Kate.”
Something in my tone must have caught her attention because she set her phone down immediately, her eyes finding mine.
“What is it?” she asked, concern coloring her voice.
I took a deep breath. I’d faced 250-pound defensemen intent on separating me from consciousness with less anxiety than I felt in this moment.
“I’m falling in love with you,” I blurted out, the words tumbling from my mouth without the finesse I’d planned. “It’s like...fuck, this is going to sound stupid, but it’s like you’re a power play in my life. When we’re together, everything works better, even though you break all my systems and routines. And when we’re apart, it’s like I’m on a penalty kill, just trying to survive until you’re back.”
I ran a hand through my hair, painfully aware of how ridiculous I sounded. “That made no sense. Just forget I?—”
Kate stared at me, her expression unreadable for one terrifying moment. Then she burst out laughing.
My stomach dropped. “Right. Forget I said anything.”
“No!” She slid off her stool and came around the island, still laughing as she grabbed my face between her hands. “Austin, you wonderful, ridiculous man. I’m laughing because you just compared your feelings for me to hockey special teams.”
“It was a stupid analogy,” I muttered, embarrassment heating my face.
