Life has a way of just going into an entirely different lane that what you originally thought. With my life, it’s been a constant thing. I have been receiving curve balls for the longest time, but this one is the biggest of them all.

If a month ago someone told me that I would be dating a billionaire, I probably would have directed them to the nearest mental institution. Girls like me, normal girls do not date billionaires.

That’s stuff we read about in romance novels.

But for me it seems to be an actual dream come true. Mentally I am laughing my head off at my situation but my heart is melting away as I look at the unfamiliar surroundings.

A smile tugs at my lips at the feeling of euphoric warmth that radiates off Alexander’s body. Our make out session last night ended up in his bedroom.

His massive monochrome bedroom. This man is all about white, black and grey tones. It’s a paradox to what the rest of the mansion is like.

My subconscious does a happy dance as his arms tighten around my waist. He has been holding me the whole time we were sleeping...well he is technically still asleep. I’m awake because my internal clock is used to getting up early for work.

Speaking of work I should be getting up.

“No, stay”, his sleepy voice calls out as I try to make my way out of his embrace. His morning voice is deep and gruff. He almost sounds like a bear.

If bears could talk.

I once again try to shimmy my way out his arms and he tightens them more.

“Babe stop moving”.

My heart skips a literal beat. Did he just call me ‘babe’?

Can he be any cute?

I stop moving and turn around from our spooning position and face him.

His eyes are still closed, his thick eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. He looks so at peace and about ten years younger. As I examine his face, my hand moves up to trace his bushy eyebrows.

My movement falters as his eyes open up. Up close they actually look turquoise, with little specks of gold and violet in them.

“Good Morning” he mumbles out. I reply back with a grin.

He moves his arms from me as he stretches and then captures me in his hold again. My eyes go round as he leans in for a kiss and I move my head back.

“Don’t I get a morning kiss?”, he asks.

I shake my head, “Morning breath”.

He chuckles. “Okay then”.

“How did you sleep?”, I make conversation.

“Great, you?”

“Me too”.

I watch his lips as he grins at me. “Only because you slept next to me right?”.

“You’re so full of yourself”, I say laughing along with him as he chuckles at my words.

I try to move out of his arms again.

“Where do you think you’re going?”. He asks pulling me closer again.

“Let me out of your constricting hold, I need to get ready for work.”

“Work?”, he asks. Is he serious?

“If you haven’t forgotten I am still your maid”.

He loosens his hold on me but keeps his arms around me.

“You’re my girlfriend”.

Yes I am his girlfriend and I would be lying if I said that my heart does not do a happy dance every time he says it.

“But I’m still your maid”.

“You know that can be fixed right? Just quit”.

His finger plays with the hem of the tshirt that I am currently wearing. It’s his and it is basically a dress on me because he is a giant. He gave it to me last night to sleep in.

I feel heat rise to my face as I realise I slept in my underwear next to him.

He is your man now right? So you should get used to it.

“I can’t just quit, I need the money”.

And as we all know I really do need this job. I don’t care how weird it is going to be working as my boyfriend’s maid.

“I’ll give you money”. His hand moves lower to my hip.

There’s no way in hell I am allowing that. It’ll make me feel icky.

Like he is buying me.

I am not a hooker. No offense to hookers though.

“No” . I firmly say to him.

“Fine, then I’ll help you get another job. You are not working as my maid anymore though”. He sounds like he has already made his mind about this.

I nod in agreement “Okay, I can live with that”.

I am suddenly pulled by my hip as he hovers over me. The tshirt riding up my waist, exposing my underwear clad butt to the soft Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Now, I am going to kiss you”, he says, his eyes darting to my lips.

“No, morni-”

He cuts me off before I even finish the sentence, “Rosalie. Shut up”.

My mouth immediately obeys his command. Goosebumps pop up my whole body at his dominance.

“Good girl”.

He leans closer but it feels agonisingly slow.

Kiss me already, I beg him with my eyes. At this point I don’t even care about my morning breath. My lips are longing for his. It feels like it has been forever since we last kissed.

I find myself leaning up to meet him but his hand pushes my chest down. He finally gets close, his lips near mine.

He closes the space left between us and captures my lips in an earth shaking morning kiss. A moan escapes me as I wrap my hands around his neck to pull him closer to me.

What a perfect start to my day.

Most of the day is spent with smiles and lingering gazes at each other. Alexander decided to work from home today and to say having him around has been a distraction would be the understatement of the century.

Focusing on my assignments is extremely hard with him around. He randomly pops into the living room which is where I have spent most of the day, wrapped up in a blanket and just typing my fingertips away. I have had to literally push him out because his scent was making my head hazy.

People who smell good..no actually men who smell good are my weakness.

As I finish off the last bits of the assignment, a text comes in, illuminating my phone screen.

Unknown: are you done yet?

Me: almost and who are you?

Unknown: the man you’re living with.

Oh. as weird as it may sound, I actually don’t have Alexander’s number saved onto my phone. I’ve only communicated with Belle.

Belle…

I will admit that a part of me feels guilty about dating the man who is now her ex. Alexander told me that he broke up with her through text.

“Harsh but effective”.

Those were the exact words he said to me when I told him that breaking up with her like that was such a “douchy” move. It was a funny thing to tell him that he sounded like a douche when he is anything but that.

Belle still has to come over and fetch her belongings that are still here. She refused when Alexander told her that Harvey was going to drop them off at her house. Apparently she would prefer to make the drive and haul everything away herself.

If I was her, I would let Harvey do all the heavy lifting. That would save me some time and well needed energy.

I save the number and then quickly get back to my work. Once I am done, I make my way up the stairs to the study. I feel a bit anxious about invading Alexander’s personal space. The study is his sanctuary but then again we’re together now so I guess I am allowed to enter into his space.

I’ve already spent a night in his bed. So this won’t probably be a big deal.

Mustering up some courage, I knock.

I hear a deep ‘come in’. My hand reaches the doorknob, my fingers wrapping around the cold chrome as I twist and push open the dark oak door.

Blue eyes, look at me through dark rimmed glasses. My jaw nearly dislodges and drops to the floor. He looks breathtaking when he has glasses on. My body forgets to function as I feel my lungs gasp for much needed air.

A grin makes way onto his lips and it nearly knocks me off my feet.

Will I ever get over at how attractive this man is?

I clear my throat and look away from him. I can’t even hide the fact that I just blatantly checked him out. I may have stood still for more than a minute, just admiring how sexy he looks with those glasses on.

“Are you done?”, I ask as I move forward to sit on one of the two chairs he has facing his big office chair.

“Yes, and you?”

I nod at him.

I watch as he closes his Macbook and takes off the glasses. I almost whine and beg him not to.

“So what would you like for dinner?”, I ask him as I get up from the chair and walk towards his giant bookcase.

His office is basically the size of my entire bedroom. It has a modern theme but it doesn’t give off a cold feeling. It’s a representation of who this man is, and his scent hugs the whole room.

“I’m good with whatever you want to make”, his voice says from behind me.

When did he get up from his desk?

My brain is getting fuzzy, I can’t think straight with his hands massaging my shoulders. The tension is just melting away at the warmth of his hands. His hands have never been cold. Every single time he touches, they are always filled with warmth.

An idea pops into my head.

I turn around to face him..well face his sternum, so I look up at his face.

“You can help me with making dinner”.

I don’t expect him to agree.

“Okay, then” he simply says. His answer knocks the smirk that I had on my face seconds prior.

His hand moves down my arm to hold my hand and interlocks our fingers. My feet shuffle forward as he pulls me out of the study and we make our way down the stairs to the kitchen.

We make Honey garlic glazed salmon with a side of veggies.

Alexander actually surprises me by being very efficient in the kitchen. We move in harmony as I am handling the salmon and he is cutting up, rinsing and steaming the vegetables.

He looks too comfortable for someone who does not cook due to having a private chef.

“Why are you so relaxed?”, I finally ask as my curiosity wins me over.

“What do you mean?”, he asks, never taking his eyes off from the broccoli he is draining.

“I mean you know your way around this kitchen yet you have Pierre to cook for you”.

He wipes his hands on the olive green fuzzy dishcloth hanging from his left shoulder.

“I can cook. I have been living on my own before Pierre came over. He is an old family friend that likes cooking for me when he comes over”.

It all makes sense now. When I started working for him Pierre told me that he has a soft spot for Alexander.

A few more minutes of us moving around each other in perfect harmony, and then we plate up the food.

It’s delicious. The vegetables are soft and crunchy at the same time, just the way I like them. That means the nutrients are still in them and not drained away with water.

After dinner we share a small tub of vanilla ice cream as we watch a docu series on Netflix.

I lick my spoon clean. His eyes shift to watch me instead of the man speaking about Hitler and his plan to rule the world.

“Why do I get the feeling that this ice cream is the only thing vanilla about you?” my lips move on their own without asking my brain for permission to speak.

“That’s because it’s true. “ his face has this wide Cheshire Cat looking smile. “I don’t live a vanilla lifestyle, it’s too boring”. He finishes the sentence with a wink and I feel the heat rising up to my cheeks.

“Right” I say as I move closer to him to snuggle. He puts his arm around me and pulls me closer.

A chaste but sweet kiss is placed on my forehead as we cuddle and watch these old men on the screen ramble on about world domination and Hitler’s circle of evil.