can imagine.” He set the bags down on the nearby desk and
strode into the living room. Rachel and two of her friends were doing their
bizarre movement exercises. “Excuse me,” Tim said, but they couldn’t hear him
over the cacophony of sounds. He reached over and turned the volume down. They
all turned to stare at him.
“Who the hell are you?” Rachel asked, a hand set on her bony
hip.
“I’m Tim,” he said.
“Ah, the mythical boyfriend. I was wondering if you really
existed.” Her tone was snotty, making Tim dislike her even more, though the
fact that she’d referred to him as Jenna’s boyfriend pleased him immensely.
“Listen, I was wondering if maybe you could keep the music
down just a bit. Jenna’s not feeling well.”
“Uh, this is my apartment too, and we have a routine to work
on, so no, we can’t.” She looked him straight in the eyes as she reached past
him and cranked the volume even higher.
He considered arguing then realized it was pointless. Why
bother when he had a very quiet apartment with no annoying roommate? He found
Jenna lying on her bed, her arm slung over her eyes.
“Sorry. I told you she’s impossible,” she said.
“No worries. Here.” He handed her her messenger bag. “Pack
up what you need, you’re coming to my place.”
“Are you nuts? You do not want to catch whatever I have.
I’ll just take a bottle of Nyquil and go to bed.”
“Take whatever you’d like, but do it in peace and quiet at
my apartment. Come.” He pulled her up. “You’re in no condition to argue with
me, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Her brow furrowed, making a crease between her eyes, and he
couldn’t help but laugh. She frowned but started shoving things into her bag.
She didn’t argue at all when he suggested a cab and she
stayed silent for the entire ride. He followed her up the stairs, admiring the
fact that her bum looked good even in baggy sweatpants. She set her bag down on
the kitchen floor but Tim picked it up and carried it into his bedroom, placing
it on the dresser.
“Do you want to lie down? Or watch some TV? I bought movies.
We’ve got romantic comedy or regular comedy—-figured you wouldn’t want a
drama while you’re already miserable. Or I could make you some tea.”
A smile tugged at her lips as she stared at him, but she
remained silent.
“What?”
“You’re too sweet.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re just now
figuring that out?”
She wriggled out of his grasp. “Seriously, stay away, you’ll
get sick.”
He tugged her back, chuckling as she bent back away from him,
which only succeeded in making her hips press against his as he refused to let
her go. He tried to ignore the sensations rushing through his lower body. “I’ll
risk the cold, I just want to take care of you.” He bent forward and planted a
kiss in the middle of her forehead. “You’re warm.” He ran his hand against her
cheek. “You’ve got a fever. Come, sit on the couch, put your feet up, I’ll
bring you some Panadol.”
“Tylenol,” she muttered, but she took a seat, curling her
legs beneath her.
He returned with a glass of water, the bottle of pain
reliever and the movies. He wagged two DVDs back and forth. “Which one?”
She chose the romantic comedy and he popped it into the DVD
player.
“Are you hungry? I have soup and bagels. I can run to the
deli if you’d like a sandwich.”
“I’m fine.” She ran her hand down his leg, sending ripples
of desire straight to his balls. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“I’ve barely done anything.” He stroked her hair and she
leaned against his hand. Her heat passed through him, making him shudder. He
patted his leg. “Here, put your feet up.” His fingers went to work, massaging
her insteps and kneading until he felt that she was starting to relax.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the studio today. I was
really looking forward to hearing you play guitar.”
He perked up. “I
strode into the living room. Rachel and two of her friends were doing their
bizarre movement exercises. “Excuse me,” Tim said, but they couldn’t hear him
over the cacophony of sounds. He reached over and turned the volume down. They
all turned to stare at him.
“Who the hell are you?” Rachel asked, a hand set on her bony
hip.
“I’m Tim,” he said.
“Ah, the mythical boyfriend. I was wondering if you really
existed.” Her tone was snotty, making Tim dislike her even more, though the
fact that she’d referred to him as Jenna’s boyfriend pleased him immensely.
“Listen, I was wondering if maybe you could keep the music
down just a bit. Jenna’s not feeling well.”
“Uh, this is my apartment too, and we have a routine to work
on, so no, we can’t.” She looked him straight in the eyes as she reached past
him and cranked the volume even higher.
He considered arguing then realized it was pointless. Why
bother when he had a very quiet apartment with no annoying roommate? He found
Jenna lying on her bed, her arm slung over her eyes.
“Sorry. I told you she’s impossible,” she said.
“No worries. Here.” He handed her her messenger bag. “Pack
up what you need, you’re coming to my place.”
“Are you nuts? You do not want to catch whatever I have.
I’ll just take a bottle of Nyquil and go to bed.”
“Take whatever you’d like, but do it in peace and quiet at
my apartment. Come.” He pulled her up. “You’re in no condition to argue with
me, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Her brow furrowed, making a crease between her eyes, and he
couldn’t help but laugh. She frowned but started shoving things into her bag.
She didn’t argue at all when he suggested a cab and she
stayed silent for the entire ride. He followed her up the stairs, admiring the
fact that her bum looked good even in baggy sweatpants. She set her bag down on
the kitchen floor but Tim picked it up and carried it into his bedroom, placing
it on the dresser.
“Do you want to lie down? Or watch some TV? I bought movies.
We’ve got romantic comedy or regular comedy—-figured you wouldn’t want a
drama while you’re already miserable. Or I could make you some tea.”
A smile tugged at her lips as she stared at him, but she
remained silent.
“What?”
“You’re too sweet.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re just now
figuring that out?”
She wriggled out of his grasp. “Seriously, stay away, you’ll
get sick.”
He tugged her back, chuckling as she bent back away from him,
which only succeeded in making her hips press against his as he refused to let
her go. He tried to ignore the sensations rushing through his lower body. “I’ll
risk the cold, I just want to take care of you.” He bent forward and planted a
kiss in the middle of her forehead. “You’re warm.” He ran his hand against her
cheek. “You’ve got a fever. Come, sit on the couch, put your feet up, I’ll
bring you some Panadol.”
“Tylenol,” she muttered, but she took a seat, curling her
legs beneath her.
He returned with a glass of water, the bottle of pain
reliever and the movies. He wagged two DVDs back and forth. “Which one?”
She chose the romantic comedy and he popped it into the DVD
player.
“Are you hungry? I have soup and bagels. I can run to the
deli if you’d like a sandwich.”
“I’m fine.” She ran her hand down his leg, sending ripples
of desire straight to his balls. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“I’ve barely done anything.” He stroked her hair and she
leaned against his hand. Her heat passed through him, making him shudder. He
patted his leg. “Here, put your feet up.” His fingers went to work, massaging
her insteps and kneading until he felt that she was starting to relax.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the studio today. I was
really looking forward to hearing you play guitar.”
He perked up. “I
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