"Don't you have to go to work?" Melanie asked, pausing in front of the door as she stopped. Her sharp gaze flicked to Adam, who was sprawled across the couch as if he had no care in the world. He probably didn't. One arm was lazily draped over the backrest, while the other dug into a bowl of popcorn. She almost groaned at the sight.
In the five days they had lived together, Melanie had learned two very important things about Adam.
One—he was a neat freak. Despite his current lounging, looking every bit like he would never move from that spot and be stuck to it, he had a habit of cleaning up after himself and after her. She had caught him wiping down the kitchen counters three times in one evening, and heaven forbid she left a glass in the sink for later—he'd washed, dried, and put it away before she even realized.
