Bad Girl (Alphahole Roommates 3)

I do not regret giving her the title. I get a vibe when I meet people and I’m typically spot-on with it. Except for Jonah. I was so wrong there it isn’t even funny.

As for my matchmaking efforts, I’ve matched up a fair few couples successfully. And predicted couples that wouldn’t last, too. I learned long ago to keep the latter sort of prediction to myself, though, because girlfriends don’t typically appreciate being told the guy they’re into isn’t The One.

My vibe with Carly from a friendship potential perspective was instant. I sensed she was trustworthy, and I knew she needed our friendship almost as much as I did.

Okay, so I needed it a whole lot more since I was starting over and had absolutely nobody from my old life I could safely stay in touch with, but she didn’t need to know that part. We were both in a new city, in the same apartment building, and starting new jobs at the same place on the same day. And she seemed like she was running from stuff, too. Not dangerous to her ability to breathe stuff like myself, but bad for her emotional wellbeing stuff.

And I quickly saw that she and our boss (actually – boss’s boss) Aiden Carmichael were meant to be. The proof is in the pudding since they just tied the knot.

But back to Jude Novak.

I indulged in fun. I played dirty-flirty text games with Jude leading up to our first date. I was telling myself it was going to be a bit of fun, nothing else. But I should’ve known, should not have ignored the warning bells going off at the fact that I was as excited as I was.

My persona with him was of a fun sex kitten who was looking to play. I told myself I was going to get laid; I was going to dabble in areas I’d started to get interested in sexually because of my ex, but without getting invested. A fling. That’s it; that’s all.

But the banter was amazing, and I assigned him with his own text sound and forevermore I think I’ll associate that pulse sound with him, with belly flutters and excitement.

After a week of flirty texts, he picked me up and took me out on his motorcycle. He was demonstrative. He was proprietary. He was interested and I could tell by how his eyes devoured me and how he took every opportunity to touch me that he was digging my quirky girl vibe.

Opening doors. A hand to the small of my back. Holding my hand to help me onto his bike. Buckling my helmet and staring into my eyes while he did so with the sexiest smile on his face.

Gah.

Five minutes into the date, my alarm bells started going off about him wanting more than a hookup.

And then I broke my rule by asking questions about him and his work. I asked about his place, his family, his life. From there I knew I was neck-deep in trouble.

He has a big family that he laughed about, telling me that they’re all up in one another’s business and at one another’s homes all the time. I loved this and didn’t get the chance to hide it.

But then he got into talk about his job. He owns a security company, and this doesn’t just mean installing alarm systems, which he does, but he also does deep-dive background checks for people and companies. He’ll do surveillance. He’s even someone who will go undercover. He deals with cheating spouses but also the dark web and has had a few freelance projects with the cops. As he told me about his job, he didn’t do it in a bragging way to make himself sound like a big shot. He was letting me know he loves what he does but it can be dangerous at times and people in his life have to be willing to deal with that.

I couldn’t ignore the alarm bells any further because they went from dinging to blaring in my head louder than the alarm at Christmas Everyday that day when I opened the emergency exit door and took off. Listening to him talk about his work and seeing the way he was being with me?

Panic mode. I needed the emergency exit door again.

In the days leading up to that date, I was thinking with my vagina in the text conversations. It was all about teasing, building anticipation.

A sampling of some of our texts:

Me: I have a question of utmost importance.

Him: Shoot.

Me: Should I wear pink lace panties or a pearl thong for our date?

Him: Surprises are always good.

Me: Maybe I’ll skip panties altogether.

Him: Your call but if I’m asked for input, I’d rather you didn’t. Surprises are nice but even nicer when someone takes the time to wrap them up with care. Plus, then I get to unwrap it.