Page 17 of Kissed By My Roommate

CHAPTER 7

ZOEY

It’s been a week since the night I went out with Juniper to meet his family, and everything changed for me. When I woke up the next morning, it took me a moment to figure out I wasn’t in my bed. As I realized I was still in Juniper’s bed and very naked, I wanted to run even though I felt so sure the night before.

Hell, I tried to run. I tried to wiggle free of him, but he wasn’t having it.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Even though it had been a while since I had a random hook-up, I still remembered the feeling of wanting to get out before things got awkward. There wasn’t a reason to put pressure on something that wasn’t meant to be.

It was different with Juniper. As I tried to wiggle free, I could feel my heart breaking. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to stay or go and the uncertainty of it all made my muscles twitch with the need to put some distance between us.

Juniper wasn’t having it though and I’m grateful as hell he didn’t let me go.

He held me close and reassured me that what we experienced together was real. I hated doubting what happened between us, but fear is so damn powerful sometimes. Even though I knew it was fear holding me back, it wasn’t until Juniper cut those chains around me that I could put it behind me.

In the last week everything has changed. I haven’t gone back to my room to sleep. Even when I’m sleeping during the day because of work, I sleep in Juniper’s bed. Our bed? It’s strange, but I also know how right it feels and how true it is.

There’s a bonus with sleeping in our room. His bedroom is on the front side of the house, and I’m not assaulted by the sounds coming from his workshop in the same way. I giggle inside whenever I think of how I don’t think of it as his work shed anymore.

How can I when I spent most of the day last week watching him work? Not only was it inspiring, but it was sexy as hell.

Watching him pound metal into submission had my pussy flooding and making a mess of my panties. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him as he worked. I’m pretty sure I tracked each drop of sweat as it slid down his torso, the exertion of his work a physical thing which pulsed around me and shot my arousal higher and higher.

It was difficult, but I managed to tear my eyes away from him working long enough to take in some of the pieces he’d been working on. I couldn’t help but notice the lines of his sculpture all had a very feminine curve to them. My heart fluttered with the hope he was inspired by me, but I squashed it.

At least until I found myself caged in against one of the tables, Juniper’s large frame looming over me with a smirk on his face. His voice was a low growl, “What are you thinking about so hard, Sweetheart?”

I bit my lip, unsure how I should answer him. He was demanding with his eyes only the truth. I should have known I wouldn’t have been able to give him anything less.

“I was just noticing how womanly some of your sculptures are.” I cocked my head to the side, studying him, curiosity in my tone, “Have they always been that way?”

I’d looked up his last show online not long after I had moved in and they seemed much more masculine to me, but maybe I wasn’t looking at them at the right angle. I found myself unable to breathe as I waited for his answer, needing to know. I wanted to be his inspiration, even though it was irrational.

Juniper shook his head slowly, “Nope,” he popped the p. “My art has changed a little recently.”

I squashed the flare of excitement in my chest because I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I breathed out, “Oh?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed and then kissed me. The kiss started out gentle, but it quickly took on a needy feel to it as he deepened it and explored my mouth with his tongue. We were panting when we broke apart. “It seems you’ve found your way into more than my heart, Zoey. You’ve found a way into my art too.”

My fucking heart soared.

It wasn’t a declaration of love, but I could feel the real emotion he felt in every word. It was pretty close. The fact he was putting himself and his emotions out there for me to see, for me to judge, for me to reciprocate or squash, was heady. It wasn’t a weight on my shoulders; I found it comforting instead.

I pulled him back to me, not caring even a little that he was sweaty and dirty. I relished it. He told me I inspired him. He was changing right in front of my eyes, but I also knew some things are just who Juniper is.

He’s still slow to smile. He’s still serious and observant. For the most part.

His walls crumble when he’s inside of me or when he sees me for the first time as a new day dawns. When he hands me a cup of coffee and I make a sound of appreciation because he knows just the way I like it.

Those are the moments when I can see behind his exterior to the man behind it all. The man who needs someone to take care of. The man who doesn’t do anything half-way.

I’ve been chomping at the bit to get home to him after my shift today. It was a tough one. I can’t even remember the number of people I talked to with tears in their voices as they experienced fear, pain and hopelessness.

It’s nights like I had last night when I wonder if this truly is my calling in life. I want to help people, have always been driven by it, but it’s a heavy burden as well.

I don’t resent those who need my help, not at all. I resent the situations they find themselves in which put them in the position to call for help. I know how hard it is to ask or help, but when you’re desperate and you’re not trained, sometimes the only option is to reach out to someone like me. I make sure they get the help they need, but then it’s out of my hands.

When I consider another career path, I think of the people who need my help, the ones who have been soothed by me and my reassurances. I’m not sure if I could turn my back on them.

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