Arranged Roommates

|28| Cuddles

"Okay. I am shut up."

Seconds passed in silence before I thought that the line was cut, but when I checked, it was still on.

"Aryan..."

"I am shut up."

"Stop this," I said, my voice coming out to be whiny.

"What do you want me to do?" He sighed. "Sing you a lullaby?"

"No need to be snarky with me."

I heard some shuffling on his side and a knock on my door was the answer.

"It's unlocked," I hollered.

With a soft click the door opened.

"If I knew I will have to wake up at midnight, I would have happily gone through the torture of watching the movie of your choice."

Aryan came into view, rubbing away the remnants of sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. His tousled hair framed the chiseled jawline, covered in a faint day-old stubble. The play of shadows danced across his defined muscles, casting an alluring contrast against his bare smooth, tanned skin.

My mouth suddenly seemed too dry to come up with words.

"Should have grabbed a shirt," He murmured, snapping his fingers in front of me. My eyes slowly trailed from his arms to his face.

"Uh..I-"I stuttered, "I wasn't able to sleep," I end with a mutter.

"I gathered that much," He replied drily.

"This was a bad idea. I am sorry for disturbing your sleep. You can go," I huffed.

He rolled his eyes and came to sit beside me on the bed. "Your mom once told me that she sings to you when you can't sleep."

My gaze snapped toward him, as he continued, clearly amused, "Never took you to be a momma's girl."

I scoffed, "As if you are any better. I doubt if you have ever said no to anything your mom says."

"We are missing a point here," He razzed. "This is about you. Not me. You want me to sing to you?"

"My ears are precious to me. Thank you very much."

He looked offended. "You forget that you are talking to the brother of the biggest rock star in the country. I might not sing as well as him, but I know a thing or two about it."

Stretching his legs, he took his sweet time settling comfortably and resting against the pillow. "You look like a burrito roll," He remarked, tugging at the hem of the blanket which covered every part of me except my head.

I loosened my hold, letting it slip away from my shoulders and onto my lap. The white tank top I wore was barely held up with the thin spaghetti strands, clinging to my skin through the sweat. I crossed my arms in front, to cover up.

The chilly air of the AC made goosebumps rise on my skin. "I was panicked when I called you. I am quite okay now. You can leave."

He rolled to lie on his stomach, peering up at me.

His hand inched towards mine, which rested on my thigh, just below the hem of my night shorts. His gaze trailed from my face to the nightstand.

"Tell me about that book you are reading currently," He said, his attention flickering between me and the book that lay bookmarked on the stand.

He was trying to distract me. Picking it up, I let my finger linger on the rib of the book, as my thumb traced the explicit cover titled Consider Me. The picture was of a man with beads of water on his chest and neck and a thick luscious beard.