Even in an old pair of ripped-up jeans and an old t-shirt, he looks suave and stylish. He’s so freaking hot. I can’t even.
All sorts of strange old-timey words are coming to mind to describe him—stately, robust, virile, gallant.
Some modern words are coming to me too—hawt as fuck, shmexy as hell, real-life thirst trap.
This man is—oh shit! This man is my new roommate.
It clicks.
And I freak the fuck out.
That’s Emmett?!? No freaking way!
I was expecting a dorky Canadian related to my friend, not this perfectly perfect perfection of a man.
Oh no.
I start to pace around my room as I get heart palpitations. I’m so freaking nervous. Adrenaline is shooting through my veins. I’m feeling faint. Dizzy. I need to sit down.
I sit on my bed and then pop back up like I sat on a pin.
I can’t sit down. He’s going to be here any second.
There’s only one thing I can do.
Not open the door and welcome him to his new home—of course not, that’s crazy talk.
I must hide. It’s my only option. It’s the only sensible thing to do.
With my heart getting a workout, I close my door and lock it.
My palms are so sweaty. I’m seeing spots in my vision.
I rush back to the window and—oh shit, he’s gone!
That means he’s on the way up here.
I clap my hand to my open mouth when I hear my front door open.
“Hello?” a smooth sexy voice calls out. “Lindsay?”
He knows my name. That god amongst mortal men knows my name.
I don’t answer. I don’t move. I don’t breathe.
The only noise I make is my heart pounding.
I hear him walk to Anna’s old room and drop the box.
Only after the footsteps head back out and I hear the front door close do I release the breath that’s trapped in my lungs.
Holy shit.
That man is my new roommate.
The fierce reality sinks in…
I’ll never be able to leave my room again.
Chapter Two
Lindsay
* * *
At 4:38 AM I reach a breaking point.
I must pee. It’s no longer optional. It’s no longer a decision that’s in my hands.
I’ve waited too long and my bladder has taken over. It’s in control now and it’s not happy.
Tears are coming to my eyes as I hold it in. It’s starting to hurt.
I’m at the door with my ear to it, trying to hear if my scarily hot new roommate is still awake. I haven’t heard a thing for the seven minutes that I’ve been standing here with my legs crossed.
I think I’m okay. But still… maybe I should hang out here for just a little while longer. Just in case.
My bladder screams in frustration at me.
It’s decided that staying put is not an option. I look around my room in a panic. There’s an empty coffee mug on my desk…
No, Lindsay! I scold myself. What if your new roommate knocks on your door in the morning? How are you going to explain a mug of urine on your desk? Get a hold of yourself, girl!
I take a deep breath and try to think clearly. Okay, the mug won’t work. I keep looking. The window…?
Stop.
Be an adult. Go use the bathroom like a civilized person. Please.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn the handle as softly and quietly as I can. The door opens and my pulse races.
Silence. Beautiful silence.
I hold my ear to the crack in the door and wait.
Nothing.
Emmett must be sleeping. Either that or he’s gone out and is currently balls deep in a threesome starring stunning supermodels.
I open the door and slip out on my toes, my desperate bladder pushing me along.
My muscles go weak and that dizzy feeling returns when I see Emmett’s bedroom door wide open and him lying on the bed. I barely see. My vision is all blurry for some reason and I just get a glimpse of a shirtless torso before I’m fleeing past the room and escaping into the bathroom.
I close the door as quickly and quietly as I can and then practically leap on the toilet.
Ahhhhhhhhhh…
That’s heavenly.
When my angry bladder is appeased, I face a new horrible decision. Flush and risk waking up the shirtless wonder or leave it and sneak back to my room where he will remain asleep but will wake up to a toilet bowl full of urine in the morning.
There’s only one sensible thing to do…
Ruminate on it for three minutes.
In the end, I decide to flush.
“Shhhhhhh,” I plead to the insanely loud water as it spins around the bowl. “Not so loud!”
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to wake. The apartment is silent once again.
I carefully wash my hands and sneak back out.
I’m ready to hurry past his room again, only this time my vision isn’t blurry and I see him sprawled across his bed in his full glory.
My feet stop working. I stand there, staring in awe.