Kiss Me Again (Kiss Me 3)

CHAPTER ONE – AVA

Not A People Person

It wasn’t every day you woke up to a strange man in your apartment.

I wouldn’t necessarily know how that felt because I hadn’t yet done it, but tomorrow, I would.

He wasn’t all that strange, either, if I was honest with myself, but I hadn’t seen Ethan in months. Not since last Christmas, actually, which made it around ten months. That was kind of a stranger.

Had I been able to get over him?

Had I fuck.

No. Here I was, unlucky-in-love Ava, still stupidly in love with my brother’s best friend. A person I wasn’t even sure I liked half the time. We’d certainly never really gotten along. We bitched and sniped at each other more than most siblings did, and Ethan had spent a good portion of our teen years making himself as much of a pain in my ass as possible.

I still bore the mental scars.

Ever had a man in a rubber suit climb out from under your bed and grab your precariously dangling foot at eleven o’clock at night?

Yeah, well, I had. And he was the reason I didn’t risk sticking my foot out from the covers anymore, no matter how hot I was.

Monsters under the bed existed, people.

Yet now, here I was, standing in my kitchen with my coffee, watching as he carried a huge box labeled ‘BEDROOM’ to my spare room.

Yep.

He was moving in with me.

Right now.

There was not enough brandy in this coffee. Not that I was in the habit of drinking at eight-thirty in the morning, but I was in the very well-practiced habit of drinking away my problems.

Unfortunately, if I woke up with a hangover tomorrow, he’d still be here.

As my new roommate.

I really needed to find a therapist…

“Aren’t you going to help me?”

I blinked, focusing my vision through my glasses. Ethan was two years older than I was and towered over me by a good six inches. His dark blue eyes were currently widened in question, and he reached up to run a hand through his thick, dark blonde hair.

“Am I going to put down my coffee and help you carry heavy boxes up three flights of stairs?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, let me get right on that.”

“Fuck sake.” My brother, Leo, shoved a large box through the door. He flicked his head so his black hair that was in desperate need of a good cut got out of his eyes. “It’s been thirty minutes since you handed him a key. How are y’all gonna live together if you can’t even pretend to get along?”

“We’d get along if he didn’t ask such stupid questions,” I pointed out, blowing into my steaming mug. “It’s really not my fault.”

“I’m starting to regret this already,” Ethan muttered, walking out the door.

“I regretted it the moment I said yes!” I shouted after him.

But seriously, I did. Regretted it like hell. There was no denying that I’d made a terrible mistake. It didn’t matter that I needed a roommate because my broke ass was struggling to pay the rent—I should have just moved back in with my mother.

Leo sighed and leaned against the small kitchen island. “Ava, why can’t you just be nice to him?”

“Because it would go against everything I believe in,” I said smartly. “I can’t be nice to people who aren’t nice to me.”

“You’re going to live together.”

“Really? It never occurred to me.”

He held his hands up. “I see this isn’t the time for this conversation. Do you have enough chocolate in the apartment to get you through this week?”

My nose twitched as I glared at him. “Run. Now. Before you find yourself wearing my coffee, asshole.”

So what if I was on my period? That didn’t give him the right to be a dick just because I was extra snarky this morning. You’d be extra snarky if you were cramping like there was a velociraptor trying to escape your womb.

Also, it was shark week for a reason.

Sharks weren’t exactly known for their friendly disposition.

Leo grinned and slipped out of the apartment as Ethan carried in another box with ‘BATHROOM’ scrawled on the side of it. I sniffed and put down my huge mug so I could grab my phone. It blinked with an unread text, so I opened it.

HALLEY: How’s it going?

REAGAN: Killed anyone yet?

If they weren’t so spot on with how I was feeling, I’d be annoyed.

ME: It’s HELL. I came on my period this morning, and we’re already fighting.

HALLEY: I can’t say that I’m surprised.

REAGAN: Me either. At least your boyfriend’s dog didn’t steal another pair of your underwear.

ME: You need to get that dog to a therapist.

REAGAN: I don’t think they do therapy for dogs.

HALLEY: Yes, they do. They’re called behavior classes, and Poosh needs them.

ME: Says the one who lives with a horny raccoon.

HALLEY: I don’t live WITH Boris. He lives near me.