Page 134 of The American Roommate Experiment

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Lucas:You must be exhausted, though. I should let you go to sleep.

The thrumming in my rib cage rose to my temples as I came up with an excuse to keep him with me.

Rosie:Don’t worry. My brain is still on so I can’t sleep.

Rosie:You could… keep me company? Maybe?

Rosie:Until I fall asleep.

Lucas:Oh yeah? You’d like that?

Rosie:Yep.

Lucas:Well, you’re lucky I’m an excellent entertainer and great company.

Lucas:Most of the time.

Rosie:I know.

Rosie:All of the time. Even when you’re a grouch.

A picture appeared on my screen. It was a selfie, and he was frowning. Pouting.

Lucas:a grouch like this?

Lucas:I still think I look handsome. Sexy, even.

He did. He always did.

Another message came in.

Lucas:would you entertain me, too?

Lucas:send me a pic.

Lucas:for the sake of my separation anxiety.

Lucas:I’m scared I’ll forget your face.

Rosie:are you… flirting with me, Lucas Martín?

Lucas:is it working?

With a nervous snicker, I snapped a selfie and sent it.

Lucas:is that… the floor? Why are you laying at the foot of the bed?

Oops. My Lucas-hazed brain hadn’t thought of that.

Another photo of him popped up on my screen. It was taken from a longer distance, as if he’d stretched his arm to snap the shot so I could see that he was lying in bed. On top of the covers. Shirtless. His glorious, glorious chest on display, his tattoo peeking out of a corner of the screen.

Lucas:This is how beds are meant to be used, Ro. You lay on top of them.

Rosie:thank you for the lesson, professor.

Lucas:What can I say? I’m well versed in the many uses of beds.

Rosie:Oh?

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