More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Fuck. Sinking my forehead to the back of my door, I close my eyes with regret. That was mean and I didn’t intend to be. In fact, the entire walk up here I kept reminding myself to be nice, trying to come up with some stupid greeting to say to her for the first time. Welcome home. No, that makes it sound like our home. Happy you’re here. That’s a lie. I’m not. Anything you need, let me know. Don’t let me know. Get it yourself. Every phrase I rehearsed sounded exactly like that…rehearsed.
All night long, my teammates gave me shit about her moving in. They’ve met her once, about five months ago and I thought the lasting impression she left on them was because she threw up all over my shoes that night. But unfortunately, the only memory they have of her is that she was an absolute smoke show. I knew she was pretty. I’m not blind, but there’s no way she was as beautiful as they recalled. I was certain they played it up in their minds. They didn’t.
I’m not easily distracted, but if I could manifest my perfect distraction, it’d look a lot like her. I can’t have someone like that living here. I don’t want anyone living here. I need my space. This apartment is my one reprieve from the outside pressures. I need to concentrate on my first season as Captain, and I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do that when my roommate looks like she just stepped off the beach with her sunkissed legs, golden hair, and her colorful clothes strewn around my apartment floor.
This must be a joke. Why the hell did I agree to let this girl live here? Oh, that’s right—Stevie. I need to learn to start saying no to my sister, because not being able to just earned me a crying blonde in my living room. I’ll ignore it. It’d be more embarrassing for her than anything if I went to check on her. Was what I said really all that mean that she’s crying over it? I’ve only seen this girl cry or drink herself into oblivion, so I guess it’s not so surprising she’s emotional once again.
Say something nice, something comforting. “You’re emotional.” Her head snaps up from her arms, brown eyes bloodshot and swollen. “Thanks for the observation, Ryan. You’re real perceptive.” Okay, clearly that was the wrong thing to say.
“What’s wrong?” She laughs condescendingly. “What’s wrong?!” Her voice rises with her as she stands from the couch. I let my wandering eye trail down those mile-long legs, and I can’t help but wonder how they might feel wrapped around my waist. Not the fucking time, Ryan.
I stay casually leaning on my bedroom doorframe, watching her mini meltdown. Mini might not be the right word.
“You’re right,” she says. “I am emotional. But at least I’m not a fucking robot!” She motions towards me. “At least I feel things. When’s the last time you felt something?” “Well, currently I’m feeling amused.”
I try to bite back my smile, I really do, but it lifts on one side of my lip. “Do not laugh at me!” I shake my head. “Not laughing.”
“You’re not moving out. I’ll have a spare key made for you, Indiana.” I close my bedroom door behind me, finally saying the line I rehearsed all night. She’s right, I don’t really want her here. But she is wrong about one thing—I’m not a monster. She’s clearly going through shit—shit I find myself having a weak spot for and I can’t toss her out on the street. I’m not that kind of guy as much as I’d love to be at this moment. A loud thud hits the back of my door. A shoe perhaps. “My name is not Indiana!”
But Indy’s new bedroom won’t close completely because of the books and clothes thrown about her floor, keeping the door from shutting. I learned another thing about the girl during our third meeting. Not only is she emotional and can’t hold her liquor, but she’s messy. Real messy.
She’s colorful too, I remind myself. It’s glaringly obvious around my black and white apartment.
Indy Daily update—why the hell is this room the color of a baby duckling?! I wish your bed was still here. Zanders is rich enough to buy a different one for your guest bedroom. Oh, and your brother is a dick. Stevie Well, at least that’ll keep you from wanting to sleep with him! When did I say that? I’m a romance reader. I have a thing for assholes.
“We aren’t into bras?” “We? I personally don’t love wearing one with my pajamas, but you do you.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Judgment free zone.”
I pull my gaze up to meet his. Blue-green eyes bore into mine, waiting for me to say something, but I can’t. The edge of frustration he wore last night has washed away slightly and he looks softer, kinder. “You wanted to have breakfast together,” he reminds me, nodding towards my plate.
“Was it the bright pink ones?” he asks, pulling my stare away from his bedroom. “Hmm?” “The shoe you threw at my door. Was it your pink heels?”
“You don’t like bacon?” He points his fork at my plate. “I’m a vegetarian.” His eyes bounce to mine with horror before he swoops up my bacon and slips it between his deliciously full lips. “And you don’t drink coffee?”
His brows furrow, probably wondering how he landed the world’s most difficult roommate. “You only drink iced coffee? What about in the winter?” “It could be negative twenty, and I’ll hold an iced coffee in my hand while I wear my winter gloves.” “Are you a Starbucks girl? A bit basic don’t you think, Indiana?”
“Ever hear the phrase ‘she’s not like other girls’?” He gives a small nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s not me. I’m just like every other chick. As basic as they come. I had an Uggs phase. I had a skinny jeans phase. I like my books with romance, my coffee with more creamer than caffeine, and I even take aesthetic pictures of my food anytime I’m at a restaurant.”
I casually pop my shoulders. “No point. Just trying to get to know you. What’s your favorite color?” “Black.” “I kind of thought robots would be more into silver.” He offers me a fake smile. “Cute.”
“You’re pretty…bold for someone who just got here yesterday and still hasn’t signed a lease. And you ask a lot of questions.” “You think I’m pretty?”
“Tell me about your ex and why you don’t have a place to live.” Well, fuck. Starting off real strong, I guess. “My favorite color? So glad you asked. Lavender.”
“You should never have to beg someone to be ready for a future,” he says,
“No, you’re not. Not really. You were crying last night because of him. You can say it was because I’m an ass and what I said was mean, but it was because of him. You’re living here because of him and that hurts your feelings. He didn’t want you. He proved that by waiting six years to propose, and he practically screamed that from the rooftops when he decided to fuck someone else in your bed. So, yes, Indiana, it is black and white. You need to move on. He doesn’t deserve shit from you, including your tears.”
“Your real name is Indy?” “Indigo, actually. But I prefer Indy.” “Indigo? Like the color?”
“My name is Indy,” I remind him. “So, can we stop with the Indiana nickname that makes no goddamn sense?” He smiles. Wide and perfect, not holding back. He’s even got dimples, lucky son of a bitch. “Sure thing. I’ll stop with the nickname, Blue.” “No. Absolutely not. It’s Indy, just Indy.”
Next line item—Rules. Here we go. “Let me guess. Quiet hours start at 8:30 PM, and you conduct a small human sacrifice before every home game that no one can find out about.” “Cute.”
“Stevie can come over.” I lightly laugh in disbelief. “And Zanders,” he offers as if he’s giving me more options. “A couple of my teammates too.” My brows lift excitedly. “An apartment full of NBA boys? Sign me up.”
“I don’t want strangers here,” he continues. “So, no overnight guests.” “You’re really no fun. Are you jealous already, Ryan? We’ve only lived together for twelve hours, and you can’t stand to see another man with me. Is that it?”
He motions with his index finger, circling in my general direction. “This thing works for you? You get through life this way?” “The charming thing, you mean? Twenty-seven years, baby.”
His chest deflates as he writes No guests next to Rules. He follows that up with No friends. No food. No fun, referencing a line from my terrible third impression. Well, I’ll be damned. Ryan Shay has a sense of humor.
His eyes lift to me before they trail down my face, glide along my neck, and linger a little longer on my chest. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, and my nipples harden from the attention, straining against the thin tank top. He smirks at that, and fuck, is it gorgeous.
I swallow, crossing one leg over the other to dull the sudden throb from his panty-melting grin. “I’m asking…” I hesitate, as if the thought of knowing where Ryan Shay has sex isn’t making the spot between my legs painfully ache. Clearing my throat, I begin again. “I was wondering—” He leans in closer across the island as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. “Are you asking where I fuck, Blue?”
“Actually, no.” I straighten. “That doesn’t seem like something I want to know.” “You sure about that?” He nods towards my breasts.
“What the hell, Ryan? You’re supposed to be shy when it comes to talking about girls.” “I’m not shy. You just surprised me with how goddamn blunt you were the first couple of times we met.” He straightens. “But I don’t have overnight guests here. I think that’s all you need to know.”
His lips tilt again, but this time there’s no amusement in his slight smile. He pities me. And for the third time since I’ve met Ryan Shay, he hides in his room, away from me.
How much did it hurt to buy something that wasn’t black or white? Almost killed me.
My cheeks hurt from the splitting grin on my face. Ryan Shay doesn’t totally hate having me here.
Dom could’ve called me for a ride at least. Sure, he didn’t realize that I was wide awake most of the night wondering why my new roommate wasn’t home yet, but I was.
Turning around, I’m not so pleasantly surprised to find Indy strutting into the building like she owns the place, wearing a soft purple sundress on this unseasonably warm October day. Her high-top white Converse are embroidered with colorful shapes, and her hair and makeup are re-done, looking like a completely different woman than I left at the apartment a few hours ago. “Shay, you are the luckiest man alive. Please tell me you’re hitting that.” My head whips around to my teammate. “Watch your fucking mouth.” “Well, if you don’t try, I will.” “Dom,” Ethan warns, trying to hold back his
...more
“So, you are hitting that.” Dom nods in approval. “No, I’m not hitting that. And neither are any of you. Stop looking at her or she’ll be the last thing you ever fucking see.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, taking her arm to pull her into the corner of the gym. “Well, hello to you too.” “How’d you get in here? This is a closed practice.” She circles an index finger around her face. “Charming. Remember?”
Not so fast, honey bun.” She snaps out of her trance, stopping me as she wraps both arms around my waist. “How am I supposed to be without you for two days? We’ve never been apart, cupcake. I’m going to miss you so much.” She nuzzles her head on my un-iced shoulder, looking up at me with a wink. I’m going to kill her. “Well, aren’t you two the sweetest,” Ron laughs.
“Oh, it’s all him. Sweetest man I’ve ever met. And emotional! Did you know he was so emotional?” “I had no idea. Shay is always so composed around here.” “Oh, he’s emotional all right! Huge crier too. He sobbed the first time we made lo—” I slap a palm over her mouth. “We’ve got to go. See you on the plane, Mr. Morgan.”
“What the hell are you doing?” I snap once we’re alone in the empty hall outside of the gym. “And what the fuck is with the food nicknames?” “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend?” “Fuck,” I exhale, pacing the small hallway. “I panicked.” “Well, go un-panic and correct him.” “I can’t.”
Indy laughs. “And you call me emotional and dramatic.” “I’ve never once called you dramatic.” “I know.” She pops her shoulder. “I added that in because I wanted a reason to call you dramatic. Which you are. Go take that robotic personality of yours and set him straight.” I take a deep breath. “Indy. It’s one night. One event. Help me out here.” “No. That’s so weird! I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend.”
Okay, I lied. She is dramatic. This isn’t a big deal. “Do you want me to get on my knees and beg or something?” “Now that you say it.” She cocks her head to the side, eyes roaming my length. “I wouldn’t mind knowing what you look like on your knees, Shay.”
“Go get me your key so I can go crash in my new expensive bed.” “What an amazing guy to buy you a bed. Probably makes you want to return a favor. He seems like a wonderful person.”
Something feels different inside. I don’t know if it’s because there’s a woman sleeping in the other room, but the energy around me has changed. As my eyes slowly adjust, I find pops of color which I know don’t belong to me. A light purple knitted blanket thrown over the couch. A pink reusable coffee cup with a straw sits by my mug.
So many goddamn throw pillows on my couch, there’s no room left to sit.
