Just Roommates

Chapter 8

The sunlight begins to stream into my room, drawing me from a content sleep. Slowly, I open my eyes, squinting against the bright light that bathes my room. At first, I find myself confused by the pale blue walls and fluffy white duvet I'm currently nestled under, but then I smile and prop myself up on my elbows as I look around my new digs.

Even from my bed, I can see a portion of the desert through my balcony doors, and I still can't believe this will be what I get to wake up to every morning.

Throwing my blankets off of me, I twist and climb out of bed, stretching tall as I make my way past the three boxes I decided not to unpack last night in favour of sleep after a long day at school. They'll have to wait until later, though, because I have to work at the café this afternoon.

I open the French doors, letting the warmth of the morning sun wash over me as I step out onto the stone balcony and breathe in the fresh air. Just as it was the last time I was standing in this very spot, the desert is breathtaking.

Of course, then I look down, and I think I fully understand the meaning of that expression.

His sinewy muscles move with each long stroke of his arms, starting with his shoulders and down his back, disappearing beneath the black trunks he's wearing. Unable to look away, I lean on the railing and continue to ogle him from afar.

I'm not naïve enough to think that our arrangement won't be a little awkward in the beginning. Not necessarily for him, but for me. I've got all of these feelings that I can't do anything about except maybe wait to see if they pass.

Until the day that happens, though, I'm going to enjoy the view my new room comes with to its fullest extent.

I straighten up quickly when he reaches the side of the pool and looks up to find me gawking. There's a big part of me that hopes he can't see the doe-eyed look I'm giving him. However, being as the second level isn't that far up, I'm extremely doubtful.

"Hey!" he calls up, offering me a wave. "There's coffee downstairs. Why don't you grab a cup and come on out?"

Even though I know I shouldn't, I quickly agree, dashing back into my room and pulling on a pair of jeans and a fitted tee before brushing my teeth and hair and washing my face. I grab my phone off my dresser before leaving my room.

Down in the kitchen, I find a pot of coffee still warming and pour myself a cup. After adding a bit of milk and sugar, I head outside to find Ian. While I knew what he was doing, I still wasn't quite prepared for the sight that greeted me.

As I wander out from beneath the shade of the eave overhanging the dark stone patio, I see Ian standing by the edge of the pool, running a towel over his head to dry his water-darkened hair. His face is blocked by the blue terrycloth fabric, but I'm not really focused on that part of his anatomy anyway; my eyes are far too interested in his strong arms, his chiseled chest and abs, and his muscular legs.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to melt into a puddle or spontaneously combust into nothingness.

He drops the towel and begins to wipe the water droplets from his lightly tanned skin. "How was your sleep? Was the bed comfortable enough?"

Drawing my eyes away from his chest, I nod and walk toward him, taking a seat on one of the poolside chairs. "It was great. Thank you." I take a sip of coffee and then look back up at him. "And yours?"

"I slept better last night than I have all week." Because of me? "I tend to have difficulty falling back into regular sleep patterns after returning home from a long trip," he explains.

"Oh," I reply, feeling both foolish and disheartened that I was wrong. "Well, I'm glad you slept better last night."

Ian sits on the chair next to mine. "You work today?"