The Roommate (Roommates, #1)

It shouldn’t have, but Paige going out on that date really pissed me off. I knew I had little right to be angry; she didn’t owe me anything, and I’d barely even seen her in the week since our near miss.

But I couldn’t help the jealous rage that boiled through my veins when I found her on the porch with that guy. And when I thought he’d hurt her? I wanted to pummel his face in. I still didn’t know if it was like she’d claimed, that they’d just bumped heads when he tried to kiss her, but Paige had never lied to me, as far as I knew.

On my drive to the hospital, I called to check on Allie, pleased that she’d kicked that scumbag James to the curb. My life these days consisted of obligations. I worked, slept, hit the gym, studied, checked in on my mom and sister, worked some more. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I knew there was a purpose, knew there was a reason I was doing this, but fuck, some days it was hard to remember what that reason was.

Tonight the urge to stay home and make sure Paige was okay was stronger than ever. Just say fuck it to my never-ending responsibilities and hang out with someone who made me feel comfortable, at ease, and a whole lot turned on.

I wouldn’t push Paige for more, wouldn’t push her on the sex we were supposed to have. Did I want to finish what we started? Of course I did. Getting interrupted that night had almost killed me. Paige had been so hot, so tight, so responsive.

I wanted her. Badly. It didn’t help that I’d fantasized about having her for the last decade. Pulling out before I was even really inside her had been the worst form of torture imaginable. Everything inside me was screaming no from the second I’d heard that pounding at the door. Then less than a week after I’d had her in my bed, wet and eager, she was out on a date with some other guy.

But I had to suck it up and go to work. Even though I knew tonight’s shift would crawl by, since I’d be counting the hours until I could see her this weekend.