Everyone loves a hot, broody jock, right? The kind who’s stare sets your body on fire and all common sense flies out the window?
Well, not this girl.
Sure, Keith Montgomery has the looks, but in his case, beauty is only skin deep. He’s egotistical, obnoxious and the most shallow person I’ve ever met.
And I’m his new roommate.
Turns out we were both desperate.
But that’s where our commonalities end. He’s indecisive where I’m sensible, chaotic where I’m organized. So why do I ache for those minutes alone with him?
I’m not the type of girl who likes to get burned, but suddenly the idea of playing with Fire is getting harder to resist.
Sunday morning rolls in with bright sunlight beaming through the open blinds of the far bedroom window. My new bedroom. It’s fairly sparse, with a beat up dresser, a nightstand and desk tucked into the corner by the closet. Not a single one of them match and likely came from a consignment shop, but rather than curl at distaste, I beam brightly at the opportunity to refinish these and make them look brand-spanking new and make a mental note to stop by a hardware store sometime this week to pick up some supplies. Of course, I’m on a limited budget, so I’ll need to do some serious penny pinching to get the project done.
Before I pull back the solid black comforter, I take a moment to just sit and revel in the ensuing silence of the small place. It was never this quiet at the sorority house. Girls were up at the crack of dawn and the house would bustle with the sounds of hairdryers and heels clicking against the hardwood floors. I never needed to set an alarm when I was there. But, here, it’s so peaceful you could hear a pin drop, needless to say, living in a house full of people is incredibly overrated.
Peeling back the covers, I take a moment to stretch before rising from the bed and walking over to the small full length mirror by the dresser. My hair is a tangled mess that would be a suitable home for a family of flamboyant rats and I’m still wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday since my bags are still tucked away in the trunk of the car. I slip the spare hair tie off my wrist and pull my hair back into a messy bun, trying to ignore the fire break of brown root peeking through the pink.
Task number two, purchase hair dye.
Smoothing down my crinkled blouse, I do a quick sniff check just to be in the safe side and head to the door and swing it open, but wind up tripping over at pile of bags sitting directly in front of my door.
“You know, someone should really put you in a bubble.” A familiar husky voice declares.
I crane my head upwards and come nose to nose with Keith’s crotch hidden behind a burgundy colored towel that is tied in a knot by the right side of his hip. Or nose to crotch, I guess is more accurate.
My eyes trail up and linger at the sharply cut V of his torso. The arrow to happy town as Bianca likes to call it. I, however, can’t even begin to find a nickname for it since I’ve never seen one in the flesh. Not nearly as defined, anyway.
Oh, and the term “washboard abs”? Yeah, that’s a thing, because I’m staring at them, right now. Each fucking abdominal muscle is chiseled like some brilliant artist carved them out of bronzed marble and I have to bite my eager tongue before it decides to lick and trace every hard line that leads up to his broad chest and cut shoulders.
When my eyes finally reach Keith’s There’s a wicked gleam shimmering in those gem colored irises. He knows damn well how fine he is.
“Since I got a peak of yours, last night, I’ll be more than happy to show you my assets. In the interest of fairness and all.” He says smugly.
His hand closes around the knot of the towel and I scramble to my feet. “Don’t you dare untie that towel!”
I throw my hand over my eyes because if I get another look at his bare torso, the overwhelming urge to tear away the terry cloth with my teeth will no doubt shred every ounce of resistance I have against him.
I jut my hand out in an attempt to feel around for the walls of the hallway, concentrating on keeping my fingers tightly sealed over my hungry eyes and end up slapping my palm over a slab of hard, heated flesh.
“Oh my God, will you just get out of here!” I shout as I yank my hand back and start flapping it wildly as though burned. Which isn’t entirely far from what had just happened.
The deep rumble of his chuckle echoes through the hall and damn the human body for only having two arms instead of four so I could protect my ears from the hypnotic sound.
Strong hands grasp my shoulders, gently turning me to the left and gives me a slight nudge into the direction of the staircase.
I remove my hand from my face when I feel safe enough and rush down the stairs as Keith calls down after me.
“Just so ya know, the offer is always open.”
Old hurt runs deep…
After she left, I was given a second chance at life thanks to my savior and adoptive father. A chance I refused to waste. Determined to be invincible, I became a true fighter in every sense of the word. Nothing and no one would get in my way.
Not even the guy who sat behind me in class.
Zack Graves had the entire world in his hands. A promising hockey career and the confidence and gorgeous looks that had every girl throwing themselves at his feet.
Except me. I was only too happy to wipe the smirk off his face while tossing him on his smug behind.
And he kept coming back for more.
I kept my scars hidden, until Zack managed to trace the lines straight to a place I fought to keep guarded.
Zack was fighting his own immortality, his own scars becoming visible the closer we got. He challenged my guard at every turn forcing me to fight harder, only to realize he would be my undoing.
But some wounds refuse to heal.
About the Author:
Upon discovering the world of indie romance, Desiree found her tribe and started her journey as a blogger and booktuber, eventually turning her attention to her lifelong aspiration of becoming an author.
Aside from losing herself in a good book, she enjoys listening to progressive metal, working out, and cooking.
Desiree currently resides in Connecticut with her husband and young son, who serve as her biggest inspirations in her writing journey.