Page 3 of Kissed By My Roommate

CHAPTER 2

JUNIPER

Zoey. Christ. Of course it’s her. I don’t know how I didn’t feel her approaching, I normally do. It’s like an extrasensory sense which is totally and completely attuned to her. It’s fucking distracting.

I’ve been trying to take it out on my art, but it’s not working. It hasn’t been working. I need it to.

Looking at Zoey is like being hit with one of my sculptures as it crumbles because I haven’t welded it properly. It’s dangerous as fuck and brutal as hell. Every single time I look into her eyes.

For a second, every time I meet her blue colored gaze, it takes me right back to the moment I opened the door to my house to meet a potential roommate and experienced a moment of beautiful chaos. I wasn’t expecting her. I wasn’t prepared for being slapped across the face with the rightness embodied in another person.

I don’t think anything could have prepared me for Zoey.

Because in a single moment, I knew she was mine. I felt it with the same certainty as when I look at a piece of metal and know it’s meant for other things than whatever life it had lived as an object. I was going to make it into more and I was sure as hell not going to let my woman slip through my fingers.

I had been pissed at myself for not specifying I was looking for a guy to take the spare bedroom the moment I set up a time with Zoey for her to come by. Her voice was like velvet over the phone, which is what I think kept me a little dazed and confused as I paced the floor waiting for her to arrive to check out the space.

I had no idea she was going to change my life. I had no idea I was going to fall.

My elation was short lived because then everything I said to Iris, the way I tried to temper the way she fell for Gavin, the famous fucking hot-shot drummer, came rushing back to me. He fell for her in a moment, from the way he tells it. She wasn’t far behind him.

I always thought it was horse shit. Iris was never exactly the responsible one. She didn’t need to be. I was responsible enough for us both. I took my job as a protector, as her big brother, like it was my fucking calling.

Maybe it was for a while. If her finding her husband and starting her life wasn’t enough to show me I had a different purpose, meeting Zoey definitely was. She twisted me around and gave me something completely different to be focused on.

Her.

Something inside me snapped into place when I saw Zoey. I got the same feeling I do whenever I stepped back from a piece and know it was done. I would know I did everything to bring it to life, to give it a purpose, to let it be seen. Zoey mentally knocked me on my ass and before I knew what was happening, she was planning to move in immediately.

I knew I wanted her close, but it scared the fuck out of me as well. How was I going to keep my hands off her?

I wasn’t sure and, even after she’s been here a little while, it’s something I fight against all the time. I want to touch her.

I can almost feel the way her pulse would jump under my palm as I run it up her neck, unhindered by hair and bared to me because of her short hair. I hadn’t really thought about a woman’s hair until I saw hers. I didn’t have fantasies of grabbing it and tugging, it would be an impossibility anyway.

No, I imagined holding her by the nape of her neck, pulling her to me. I could almost taste her on my lips from running them up and down her neck. It’s an enticing piece of real estate on her body, but it’s every single inch of her which had me enthralled from the moment I met her.

My need for her has only deepened as I’ve gotten to know her in bits and pieces. She won’t let me have more of her than that and I’m not sure why. I’m determined to break down her walls.

Even though the way she’s glaring at me should send me running. She’s fierce as hell. I think that’s why I call her ‘Sweetheart’. She hides behind a shell, an armor, because she’s protecting the kindest heart. I can feel it; it beats for me.

I love the way her eyes dilate when I call her my little nickname for her. I’m not sure if she realizes it, but it’s in interest and desire. I’m pretty sure she’s been lying to herself, thinking it’s in irritation.

I lean back against the kitchen counter, my eyebrows pulling together. “You’re the one who snuck up on me, so why are you the one screaming?”

It comes out gruffer than I want it to. I don’t mean to be short with her. I want to let out the warmth I feel for her, but it’s not easy to do.

It’s never been easy for me to show my emotions. It’s one of the reasons I sought out a roommate beyond the benefits of the rent they pay. It didn’t take me long to realize I missed Iris in the house. It felt too big without her here. It felt like I was losing touch with people and isolating myself too much.

I had gotten used to living with Iris and I couldn’t take the quiet anymore. Even when I was out back and banging on metal. It was suffocating me and there were times when it felt like I couldn’t think because of all the quiet.

The quiet and the loneliness.

Seeking out a roommate brought me Zoey. I had to consider fate for the first time in my life. Every day I send a little thank you to whatever may be overseeing things because I’m grateful for my woman coming in my life.

Even when it seems like she can’t stand me. I know what’s underneath the annoyance and frustration she displays. Underneath it all is a fiery hot passion which burns for me.

Zoey crosses her arms across her chest, drawing my eye to her tits. They’re topped by hard nipples which are obvious as fuck in the thin tank top she’s wearing with some damn little sleep shorts. The expanse of her legs should not be on display for me right now.

---