Page 33 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
How terrifying is that?
Chuck transforming from the guy who rescued me by the highway to a dickhead who cheated on me and held my record collection hostage for seven months was bad enough.
But Parker? Parker drove through a building for me.
Parker moved me into his guest room free of charge, bought me a new wardrobe as a “first day as a homeless person” surprise, and refused to let me pay him back.
Parker just gave me the most intense almost-orgasm of my life while surrounded by squirrels in bondage gear.
If he turns out to be a bad guy somewhere down the line…
I tell myself he won’t. I tell myself that with Parker, what you see is what you get. But another voice in my head says the best predictor of the future is the past, and I’ve never picked a good one.
Never.
Every man I’ve dated since Tanner, my first true love, has been a bastard in nice guy’s clothing. And Tanner was no angel, not really. He was my teacher, for fuck’s sake. It was completely inappropriate that we started flirting when I was still an eighteen-year-old kid in his classroom, even if we did wait to seal the deal until I graduated.
And things ended with him when we were still in the honeymoon phase. If I hadn’t left the safety of his arms to explore the world, maybe his arms would have turned out to be not-so-safe, too.
I suck in a breath, willing the inner spiral to slow its roll.
Parker’s headed across the bar.
Our car is almost here.
Soon, we’ll be on our way to his place to fuck like bunnies, and that’s fine! I can handle it. I’m totally ready for us to be alone, rapidly sobering up, and coming to terms with the need for “new rules” in the light of the fact that we’re about to become lovers for real.
Right?
Chapter
Eight
PARKER
Ididn’t realize it was possible to be this horny.
I swear, this woman teaches me something new every day.
Yesterday, it was that you can use applesauce as an egg substitute if you want fresh muffins but don’t want to bother with a trip to the store. Today, it’s that I can be so fucking turned on, it feels like I might spontaneously combust.
I’mnotgoing to combust, of course.
I’m not a teenager with zero self-control.
But as soon as we get home…
Assuming Makena’s still thinking what I’m thinking…
In the back seat of the rideshare, I nudge my thigh against hers and she nudges back, her lips twitching into a half smile before settling into a tight line. Our fingers tangle together, the only thread tying me to sanity, and I’m trying very hard not to think about what her fingers were doing to me twenty minutes ago.
Trying and failing.
Spectacularly.
My dick is still three-quarters-hard, no doubt in his stubborn head that we’re headed home to finish what we started in thefamily bathroom. I’ve tried to warn him that this isn’t a sure thing. That Mack and I still need to talk. Sort things out. Have a clearheaded conversation about where we go from here and whether or not banging is really the best call right now.
But he isn’t listening.
