Page 37 of Pucking My Grumpy Roommate
I lost myself in the taste of her skin, the sounds she made as I teased her nipples with my tongue, the way her legs tightened around my waist. This woman—brilliant, chaotic, utterly unique—was becoming an addiction I had no intention of breaking.
CHAPTER 9
KATE
“Dr. Ellis, this is the second incorrect measurement you’ve made in the past hour.” Dr. Barnes’ crisp voice cut through my Austin-filled daydream like a scalpel. “Is there a problem with the equipment, or perhaps with your attention span?”
I blinked rapidly, heat rushing to my cheeks as I stared at the bacterial culture I’d nearly ruined. “Sorry, Dr. Barnes. I must have miscalculated the dilution.”
“Clearly.” Her piercing gaze made me squirm. “I don’t need to remind you how competitive this fellowship is. There are a dozen qualified candidates who would gladly take your place if you’re finding it difficult to focus.”
“It won’t happen again,” I promised, straightening my lab coat with as much dignity as I could muster while my mind unhelpfully replayed images of Austin’s mouth on my breast.
Dr. Barnes nodded curtly before moving on to inspect Brian’s work. The moment her back was turned, I let out a silent groan and pressed my forehead against the cool surface of the lab table.
What was happening to me? I’d never let personal distractions interfere with my work before. But then again, I’d never had six feet three inches of muscular hockey player doing wickedly delicious things to my body before either.
“Rough day?” Brian asked, sliding over to my workstation with a sympathetic smile.
“Just tired,” I lied, reaching for a clean pipette.
“I was thinking,” he continued, lowering his voice, “maybe we could grab dinner sometime? There’s this great Thai place near campus.”
I looked up, genuinely surprised. Was Brian asking me out? The old Kate would have stuttered through an awkward rejection or worse, agree out of social obligation. But something had shifted inside me.
“That’s really sweet, Brian, but I’m actually seeing someone,” I said, the words flowing naturally.
His eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Lucky guy. Someone from work?”
“No, he’s a hockey player, actually.” The words felt strangely right in my mouth.
“Seriously? Like, NHL?”
I smiled, unable to contain a surge of pride. “Minnesota Blizzard. He’s a defenseman.”
Brian let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s...unexpected.”
“Story of my life lately,” I muttered, turning back to my samples.
By the time I finished my work—triple-checking every calculation to avoid further errors—it was nearly seven in theevening. I packed up my notes, sending one last email to Dr. Barnes with my corrected data before heading home.
Home. The word felt different now. Not just a temporary crash pad in Austin’s apartment, but somewhere I actually wanted to be. Somewhere with Austin.
When I unlocked the door, the apartment was quiet except for rhythmic grunting sounds coming from the living room. I dropped my bag and followed the noise, curious.
The sight that greeted me stole the breath from my lungs.
Austin was on the floor, shirtless and glistening with sweat, performing what looked like modified push-ups with his injured leg carefully positioned. Each movement made the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple beneath his skin like a perfectly choreographed dance. His dark hair was damp with exertion, and his jaw was clenched in concentration.
Instead of announcing my presence, I leaned against the doorframe, shamelessly enjoying the view. This was better than any anatomy textbook I’d ever studied.
After a moment, he sensed my presence and looked up, raising one eyebrow when he caught me staring. “See something you like, Dr. Ellis?”
“I’m conducting a scientific observation of human musculature,” I replied with mock seriousness. “For research purposes only, of course.”
A slow smile spread across his face as he sat back on his heels. “And your professional assessment?”
“Fascinating specimen,” I said, pushing off from the doorframe and walking toward him. “Though I might need a closer examination to form a complete opinion.”
