Page 3 of The Roommate (One Night #1)

“Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy being yours to fall for somebody new”

There are a total of three times when I’ve felt my heartbeat stop. The good type.

The first time was when my mother and I were wandering in the garden, when I was three or four, and we discovered several bushes of blueberries. I remember the burst of flavors. Sweet but not too sweet. Bitter but not too much. That’s how I found my favorite fruit.

The second was when I saw her the first time. Shy and quiet little Edaline with loud blue eyes—contrasting yet in a perfect balance. I’d felt like a pirate being lured by a siren.

The third is right fucking now, as I see her.

Here. In a dress .

Some mysterious force drew me to her, making me aware of her presence without seeing her.

She shouldn’t even be here.

She never comes to these things.

She is the only one who can debate me into silence, who can burn me with a single glare, who hides behinds books like it’s her armor, who is such a good fucking girl. Hell, I’ve never seen her in anything other than a hoodie and jeans ever since she grew up.

But here she is, looking like a temptress, a fucking minx.

Every goddamn curve is on display. Every inch of her skin visible makes me itch with the need to touch her.

I trace the length of her creamy legs, without even trying to be subtle, that feels too possessive to be healthy.

They’d look perfect resting on my shoulders.

And as much as I hate to admit it, her ass looks delectable in that dress.

I’m torn between dragging her out of here so no one else sees her, or dropping to my knees in worship right here.

Fuck me.

I’m pretty sure I haven’t had that many drinks but it feels as if I’m high. Because there’s no way I’m planning to act on my intrusive thoughts, like pulling her away from here and kissing the fuck out of her, right?

I stare at her like a creep—like I always do.

I can’t look away from her.

The loud music, Jeremy’s narcissistic blabber about himself and Colton’s replies dims to a hum. I don’t listen to a word they’re saying, or anything for the matter of fact. The entire room has blurred, and all I can see is her.

Poetic much? Fuck it.

Her fingers fidget at her sides as Clarissa drags her to the kitchenette bar. She is nervous, I realize. She’s confident when it comes to everything, but this?

And suddenly, I need to be with her.

No. Fuck no.

Edaline Walter is off-limits, for me or anyone else. I have made sure of it since junior school.

“Dude, you gotta check this out!” Jeremy punches me on the shoulder, startling me while showing me something unintelligent on his phone. I glare at him while thinking of all the ways to murder him, so I can watch her peacefully.

“He doesn’t care. He’s too busy watching his neighbor .” Colton laughs. Change of plans: I’m going to murder both of them , and then watch her peacefully.

“Piss off. Both of you.”

I watch her get drunk in one glass. Of course, because Edaline never drinks. Just how careless is Clarissa?

She scarfs down almost everything that is present on the table.

I know hers and her mother’s condition hasn’t been that good, especially if the rumors of Olivia Walter becoming a drunkard is true.

I don’t judge her for eating too much, it is actually adorable, but in the desperate way she is eating right now, either she has starved for days or simply loves desserts too much to be healthy.

I’m ambushed by thousands of unwelcome thoughts—her splaying down as I lick the chocolate drip from her navel, images of her—

Suddenly something changes.

Her head snaps up, body tenses. Even from far, the panic in her eyes is unmistakably evident. Her gaze darts around the room, frantic, like she’s searching for a threat.

What the hell?

Then her eyes lock onto mine.

And just like that—she stills.

Something unreadable flickers across her face. Not fear. Not anger. Something what one would call a relief . I’d very much believe that if I didn’t know her better.

The entire incident leaves me confused as fuck.

She looks away too quickly, but the damage is done.

I watch her leave, and though I don’t understand why, I follow her out.

I’m across the room before I think better of it, stopping right behind her. My voice a low growl near her ear. “Isn’t this a surprise, Blueberry?”

She stiffens, but I catch the way her breath hitches. “What?”

“Didn’t know we’d ever have the pleasure of seeing you at a party.”

“Why not?” She turns around to face me. “I’m celebrating, after all, I secured the first position that is more than you.”

Her words should piss me off. They do piss me off. But all I can focus on is the way her lips curve around that taunt, the flash of triumph in her eyes.

I step closer, crowding her personal space. The cold bites at my skin, but she’s all I feel—warm, alive, infuriating .

“Celebrating?” I smirk. “Should’ve told me. I would’ve made sure you got a better prize than just first place.”

“Like what?”

Like my hand around your throat while I fuck you against the nearest wall.

I wonder how she isn’t feeling cold as the wind seeps through my jacket, chilling me. I almost choke on nothing when I accidentally see her nipples pointing hard through her dress. She folds her arms over them but it only pushes her breasts more.

All my control goes to hell as my brain imagines touching her delicious curves.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Get a picture, why don’t you?” She leaves me standing alone, and goes near the pool.

I follow her again, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine.” A lie. Her arms wrapped around herself are covered in goosebumps.

I shrug off my jacket before she can protest and drape it over her shoulders. She stiffens—always so damn stubborn—but doesn’t push me away.

An unwanted feeling punches through my stomach, and I don’t understand how my temperature rises despite the cold as I see her clutching my jacket. It nearly swallows her frame.

Then she does something I very much expected. “I don’t need this.” And proceeds to take off my jacket.

“I wouldn’t want this rivalry to go to waste if you die of cold. That would be a shame.”

“It’s not that cold.”

“Your teeth are chattering. It’s annoying.”

Her eyes narrow. “Whatever, I’ll return it to you after washing it tomorrow.”

“Hmm.” I don’t know why I’m still here or why I’m thinking of a conversation with her but apparently, I am.

“You’re staring again,” she mutters, shifting under the weight of my gaze.

“What are you really doing here?”

“Why are you still here? Don’t you have any poor souls to torment?”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re my favorite one.”

“Oh, I’m so honored.” She mockingly bows, making me burst into a laugh.

A realization hits me of how close we’re standing to each other right now. Her nose and cheeks are dotted with faded freckles. So light that wouldn’t have been visible if we weren’t standing toe to toe right now. Literally.

My eyes flicker to her lips for a second. So does hers to mine.

My chest is brimming with a feeling, an overwhelming urge to kiss her. An urge to kidnap her away. It’s weird but it’s there, gnawing its way out.

“As you should, Blueberry.” I lean in, the move more on instinct than a conscious decision, and take a deep breath. We’re so fucking close that her scent hits me—coconuts and salty, sea water.

The moonlight catches in her eyes and something raw flickers there, something that matches the hunger clawing at my ribs.

I shouldn’t want her but I can’t do the rational thing, not when she is standing so close to me.

I snap.

My hand fists in the fabric of my jacket at her collar, yanking her against me. Her gasp is swallowed by my mouth, hot and demanding.

I shudder but it isn’t because of the cold this time.

She tastes like victory and defiance and mine , mine , mine—

She melts for half a second before shoving me back, chest heaving. “We hate each other.”

I drag my thumb over her bottom lip, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that, Blueberry.”

Then I grab her waist and smash my lips on her again.

This time, she kisses me back. I push my tongue against her lips daring her to open. Her lips part allowing me in as she holds on to my neck.

Our teeth clash and tongues collide.

I devour her as the years of wanting her comes undone.

It’s raw and burning. So fucking electric.

She bites me and I bite her back.

We kiss like we fight. Like the way we hate each other.

We pull apart for a moment to take a breath.

“Tell me to stop.” I whisper, but the look in her eyes is pure need. I’m sure that mine’s reflecting the same.

My hands tighten on her waist, and we kiss again. Feast is probably more accurate.

This one is deeper and hungrier.

This one is a war.

I want more of her. I want her everything. To own her, mark her as mine .

I grab her throat and devour her like an animal until she has no choice but to give in to this fight for dominance. And she— fuck—s he melts under my touch, submitting to me. Completely.

She pulls away and whispers, “We should stop. We need to stop.”

Yes, fuck! She is right.

And I hate it. I hate it more than I would ever admit.

I rest my head on her without being able to look in her eyes. I tighten my hold on her throat and give a tug to her lower lip before pulling away from her and leaving without a word, without looking back knowing I’m so goddamn close to losing my control.

I need to stay away from her.