Page 2 of Loud Hot Roomie (Taboo Streets #4)

Riko

I’m a grown-ass man. I can do whatever I want.

Spoken like a true spoiled brat.

Of course that last part would be said inside my head in my father’s condescending voice. I may be spoiled, and bratty for that matter, but I’m still a grown-ass man who can do whatever he wants. Two things can be true at the same time.

They said I’d regret moving out and would be back within a month.

Fuck that.

I regret nothing. At least not yet. Leaving the Valentine gilded nest is equal parts terrifying and exciting. The guy I texted with seems like a legit dude. Works for UPS or Fed-Ex or some shit. Goes to the gym in his free time. Says he’s kind of boring.

After all the drama back home, maybe I’m due for a little boring.

College was boring and you hated that shit.

This time, the voice inside my head is mine.

I still can’t believe my parents gave me an ultimatum. Go to college and play soccer while still accessing the comforts of home. Or…drop out and get out.

Of course I chose to be cut off. Of course I did.

I’ll admit. It fucking stings they both held firm on this. Since I’m a product of both Mom and Dad, I’m doubly stubborn and held equally firm on my stance. Now I’m packed and headed for a new life without them.

They’ll miss me.

How could they not?

I’ll bet the house will be so quiet, Mom will cry and Dad will go insane. I’m the motherfucking heartbeat of the Valentine home. They’re basically dead without me.

Keep telling yourself that, bro.

My GPS takes me to a quant townhome complex called Moonlit Gables. It’s a far cry from our multimillion-dollar home on the affluent side of town. But, it’s exactly what I need. A fresh start. No overbearing parents breathing down my neck and making me do things I don’t want to fucking do.

The sad part is, I really, really wish I could.

Not the school shit, but the part that made school tolerable.

College soccer. I live for soccer. Fucking breathe it.

But, an injury can change everything. In my case, it’s a repeat grade II hamstring strain in my right leg.

Every time I think I’ve healed it through physical therapy, I manage to injure it again, putting me right back at square one.

If I can’t play soccer for the college team, what’s the point of even going?

I pull around to one side of the complex like Derek instructed and park my Audi in front of unit nine beside a new pickup truck.

Home sweet home. After shutting off the engine, I grab my backpack and then climb out of the vehicle.

There’s more clothes and shit in my trunk, but I need to make sure this dude’s cool before I drag my stuff to the front door.

A bout of nerves twists my gut. This is so outside my comfort level. I know I’m a pampered guy who’s never had to want for anything in life. I’m trading it all in for Derek in unit nine at Moonlit Gables.

Rather than letting the anxiety eat me alive, I lift my chin and make my way to the door. My hamstring aches, but I’ve finally graduated from my latest PT run. I can deal with the ache rather than the torture of physical therapy.

And, because I’m quitting college, injuring myself again isn’t going to happen.

I’m done with soccer.

I rap on the front door with my knuckles, eager to think about anything else aside from the death of my athletic career. My best bud, Rhett Monahan, will no doubt give me shit for my sudden life change, but I refuse to think about that now.

I’ve made my decision and I’m going through with it.

“Coming,” a deep voice says from inside the townhome.

Seconds later, the door opens and a man greets me with a forced smile. He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. Literally nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and if my brief glance at his crotch isn’t lying to me, no underwear either.

Turn the fuck around, Riko. Go home.

Somehow taller than my six-foot-three frame, the man who must be Derek, towers over me. His muscular shoulders are glistening with droplets of water as if he just hopped out of the shower. I can’t help but dart my gaze down to his pectoral muscles that are sprinkled in dark chest hair.

Go. The. Fuck. Home.

My brain begs for me to be smart for just once in my life, but my dick always wins every argument between the two. Right now, my cock is thick and happy as fuck because my new roomie is fine. Really damn fine.

I lick my lips and jut out a hand toward him, aching for my fingers to graze over his perfect abs. “Riko Valentine. You must be…”

“Derek Blake,” he says with a grunt that reminds me of a bear. “Come inside.”

Offering him my flirtiest grin, I stride past him into the space. The door closes behind me as I scan the place. It’s clean inside and pretty bare. Derek must be a minimalist. Or, maybe he just doesn’t know how to decorate. Either way, this place needs some Riko magic.

“Rent’s due in two weeks,” Derek blurts out. “Want a beer or something?”

I look over my shoulder at the scowling man who’s watching me like I might be here to wreak havoc on his life. I mean, I am, but that’s because I wreak havoc on everyone’s life. Ask my parents.

“You do know I’m only nineteen, right?” I can’t help but tease him.

He winces and curses under his breath. “Uh, sorry. Don’t tell Cole I offered you alcohol. He’s a cop who lives nearby.”

“I’m just fucking with you,” I say with a smirk. “I’ll take that beer.”

His lips thin out but then he lets loose a sigh before heading into the kitchen.

I follow after him, taking in the plain, unimpressive kitchen.

The only thing in here is a coffee pot, a Ninja blender, and three different massive containers of protein powder.

While he fetches the beer, I peek out the kitchen window.

I’m pleased to see a pond with ducks and a walking trail that wraps around it.

It’s a hidden beauty within the complex.

Doesn’t back up to a golf course like my parents’ house, but it has its own special view.

I turn to face Derek and lean my ass against the counter. His bicep flexes as he pops the cap off the beer and then he thrusts it toward me. Unable to stop myself, I make eye contact with the incredibly hot guy in front of me as I wrap my lips around the bottle.

Why must I set bombs off in every area of my life?

Flirting with my roomie is a bad idea. Especially when I have no idea if he’s into guys, women, both, or whatever. But, he’s so good looking and I’m having a bad day. It’s a recipe for a Riko disaster.

Derek clears his throat and crosses his arms over his muscular chest. His eyes drift to the window behind me. I clearly make him uncomfortable.

Probably because you’re giving him your, “I want to suck your cock,” face, idiot.

That face always shows up at the most inopportune times.

Like that one time with one of Dad’s old colleagues, Spencer, or my tenth grade English teacher, Mr. Ellington.

It usually ends in disaster, and with everyone, especially me, in a fuck-ton of trouble.

That face ended the career and marriage of Spencer, and the career and freedom of Mr. Ellington.

How was I supposed to know it’d send someone to jail?

The man before me clears his throat again. His face is red and he still can’t make eye contact. “So, yeah, the rent’s due soon.”

He’s circling back to this again?

“I can send you the money right now,” I assure him with a grin. “Wanna show me to the bedroom?”

This finally snaps him out of his funk and a flicker of anger flashes over his features. My “I want to suck your cock” face has earned me at least three punches in the gut. One guy fucking spit on me. It’s always a gamble and apparently I love to live right on the edge.

“Sure,” he grunts out, a bite of irritation in his tone. “It’s upstairs.”

I follow him up the stairs, totally checking out his nice, bitable ass along the way. Derek’s not missing glutes day. That’s for damn sure.

I’m distracted from his lovely butt when the ache in my hamstring intensifies. At home, my room is on the first floor which always made sneaking out a piece of cake. Climbing stairs with this injury kind of sucks, but it’s still better than living with Debbie Downer and Mr. Despair aka my parents.

“Bathroom. We share. Keep it clean,” Derek clips out. “This one’s yours. I get the big room.”

The “little” room is about the size of our laundry room back home. It’s completely bare. No furniture or anything. I guess shopping is at the top of the to-do list.

“Guess we’re sharing a bed until mine arrives,” I say, smirking at him.

He whips his head around to look at me, features twisted into one of horror. “W-what? You don’t have a bed?”

I crack up with laughter. “Dude, I’m just messing with you. I’ll pick up an air mattress tonight and sleep on that until real furniture arrives.”

Derek visibly relaxes, nodding in agreement as though he likes this idea much better. If only he knew just how good in bed I was…

“So basically, that’s it. Any questions?”

Oh, I have tons of questions but none of them are appropriate.

“You hungry?”

He frowns and his eyes dart back and forth in confusion. Why is it so thrilling to pester this man?

“Uh, yeah,” he says with a grunt, “but I haven’t been to the store or anything.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to eat a protein shake and call it a day.” I step closer to him, flashing him a wide grin. “A big man like you needs meat. Am I right?”

His face turns crimson again which delights me to no end. “I, uh, I…”

“We’ll run to the big store together in your truck. I can grab stuff I need and we’ll pick up some burgers or something.” I gesture at his beautiful torso. “The shirt is optional, in my opinion, but they may disagree.”

“Right,” he says with a grunt and hightails it out of my room.

His door closes with a loud bang. I peek out the window, pleased to see it overlooks the pond and all the neighbors around us. The room is small, but it’s mine. No parents to tell me I’m being dumb for quitting college. No rules. I like it.

Seconds later, Derek returns, regrettably with a shirt on. I hope his walking around topless is a thing he does because I certainly won’t complain. It’s his fault if it accidentally gets him licked.

“Ready?”

I nod and follow after him, again enjoying his cute butt. I’m unsure of this guy’s sexual orientation or preference, but uncertainty’s never stopped me before.

You can’t hit on your roommate, Riko.

Since when do I listen to anyone? Never. Not even to myself.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun living together,” I tell him when we’re back in the living room.

He cocks his head to the side as if he’s studying an alien creature. “Fun?”

“Yeah, man. Ever heard of it?”

“I know what fun means,” he grumbles. “Just don’t see how we’ll do it together.”

I waggle my eyebrows at him. “I can teach you.”

Rather than dignifying me with a reply to my words that are wrapped in innuendo, he snatches his keys off an end table and stalks out the door.

I’m about to teach him a whole lot…