by Jolie Day
Accidental Roommate
A Second Chance Billionaire Romance
Jolie Day
Contents
1. Prologue
2. Maya
3. Ethan
4. Maya
5. Ethan
6. Maya
7. Ethan
8. Maya
9. Ethan
10. Maya
11. Ethan
12. Maya
13. Ethan
More Books by Jolie Day
Continue the Series
Sneak Peek His Fake GF
The Author
Accidental Roommate © Copyright 2020 Jolie Day
Copyright notice: All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Warning: This story contains mature themes and language.
Cover Design: ARP Book Covers
About this Novel
Being roommates with a billionaire was never my dream.
In fact, Ethan is a complete nightmare.
I never expected to see him again.
Ethan Gladwell.
Tattooed bad boy. Knockout face. High school crush.
And… way out of my league.
He was my first kiss… and then he broke my heart.
I clearly never learned my lesson.
Because I’m back at his doorstep.
He’s hotter than ever, but now, he’s also a self-made billionaire—with an empty room on the Upper East Side.
I know I should say no.
But I need a room yesterday, and I’m running out of options.
Living together will be a minefield.
Especially when I find out why he left me all those years ago.
So, us being roommates—what could possibly go wrong?
1
Prologue
Prologue: Maya
Hooonk…hooonk. A car horn rent the rainy air.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I pulled the soaked hood of my sweatshirt up around my ears and wrapped my arms around my middle, shivering. More cars sped past, splashing wave after wave of water that splattered against my legs (that was New York City drivers for you), but the beat-up Camry idling by the curb didn’t move.
The owner rolled down the passenger-side window, and—Oh. My. God. —I was staring into gorgeous hazel eyes I knew all too well, gorgeous hazel eyes I dreamed of. He was smiling, the corners of his perfect mouth quirked up, a playful spark in his eyes.
“Ethan,” I exclaimed, and I knew I was red-faced, feeling color rushing to my cheeks.
Ethan Gladwell was more than just my older brother Ricky’s best friend—he was one of the cutest boys I’d ever seen. Girls whose names he didn’t even know had gotten into fights over Ethan in the halls at school, and at his graduation, they’d practically lined up to take selfies with him. It seemed like every other week, he was seen with a new girl at the movies, at prom (even rival schools’ dances), or driving around in his car. They never stuck around for long, though. Some people said he didn’t want to be tied down. Others whispered he just wasn’t able to open up to people. Who knew?
Either way, he was a hot commodity around here—I certainly wasn’t immune to his charms.
“Maya,” he said, his megawatt smile spreading across his face. “You’re soaked!”
Ethan’s seeing me like this! I wanted to run, maybe act like I didn’t recognize him, but that would be stupid. I’d already opened my big fat mouth. Crap.
I glanced down at my clothes. I looked like a drowned rat. Wearing leggings to school in November hadn’t been one of my brightest ideas. The sky had been clear when I’d left that morning, but angry gray clouds had decided to take over on the way home and dumped buckets of freezing rain all over me. Awesome. I wished I’d brought an umbrella or worn something different, but that was just my luck on a day like today. My shoulders were killing me from the weight of my backpack, and the stupid rain (and mucky road water from courteous drivers) was beginning to seep into my Chucks. Five more blocks, Maya. Pull up your big girl panties. You’ve got this.
“Oh, uh.” I shook off a bead of rainwater running down my nose. “It’s not that bad… I’m almost ho—”
Ethan reached over and opened the passenger-side door of his car, a second-hand sedan he was notoriously proud of. “Hop in!”
“I’m all right, really—”
“Come on, it’s raining cats and dogs out there. You look half-drowned. I’ll give you a lift home.”
I glanced around, wondering if anyone else was seeing this, or if I was dreaming. Sure, I saw Ethan all the time. He came by the house to eat pizza with my brother, and some mornings, he hung around the high school parking lot, drinking coffee with his friends as I walked past, but he never really saw me. At least, I didn’t think he did. I was always just “Rick’s little sister,” two years younger than Ethan, and only worth a passing glance, or maybe a “Hey, what’s up?” at the door when he showed up to visit my brother.
Steeling my nerve, I slung my backpack into the car and climbed in. I pulled the door closed and tipped my head back against the headrest as Ethan slammed on the gas. I was immediately enfolded by the character of his car. It was almost too warm from the overactive heater, a little messy, (function over presentation—Ethan’s motto), and stereotypically masculine in an indescribable way. Maybe it was his denim jacket slung over the back of my seat, or the pine-and-musk scent from the air freshener, but either way, I became well aware I was in a boy’s car. Riding alone with a boy, in his car, and not just any boy: Ethan Gladwell. Strong-jawed, dark, chestnut-colored hair, and my twenty-year-old crush—more man than a boy. I was dying…
I swallowed, and my throat felt dry.
Holy crap.
“Do you walk home every day?” he asked.
I’d wondered if he was going to talk to me at all, but, as he turned the corner toward my house, his voice broke me from my thoughts.
“Yeah. It’s not that far, just twenty minutes both ways. I usually enjoy the walk.”
“Except when it pours.”
I hugged my backpack to my chest, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah.”
Ethan shifted gears without looking down. I had asked Ricky to teach me how to drive a stick shift, but he’d refused, saying I would never need to know how to do it, anyway, and he didn’t want me learning to drive on his old, “hunk-of-junk car,” as he called it. He said he was just trying to keep me safe. But I was the kind of person who didn’t want to rely on other people doing things for me. I always wanted to know how everything worked for myself.
I wondered if I could convince Ethan to teach me how to drive a stick, and then thought better of it. There was no way someone as popular as Ethan would want to spend his time teaching an eighteen-year-old girl to drive, especially not one as ordinary as me. Still, I couldn’t help but imagine his hand settling over mine around the gear shift, his approving voice in my ear. A girl could dream…
“How’s your second to- last semester going?”
“Crazy,” I admitted. “But I�
��m having fun.”
“Good, that’s what’s most important. Rick said you’ve really been busting your ass applying to colleges.”
I raised a brow at that. I had no idea Ethan and my brother were in the habit of discussing me or my schoolwork. “I sent most of my applications in last year, but I’ve been doing a lot of phone and in-person interviews in the last couple of months. I’m just waiting to hear final decisions now. It’s pretty nerve-wracking.”
“I bet. I’m sure you’ll do great, though. You’ve always been the smartest one out of any of us. You’ll get it.”
I watched the glow from the streetlights dance across his face as we drew closer to my house, but I couldn’t make out his expression. He seemed genuine, even personally invested in my future. Although, I’d seen him carry on interesting conversations with people he didn’t find interesting at all.
“Thanks, I want to go to Fordham. It’s my top choice.”
“New York City, right?”
“The Bronx, yeah. Their Art History program is out of this world.”
We pulled up to my house, rain pelting against the windshield in a soothing lull. The world outside was drab and gray with a hint of twilight dawning, the wind whipping through the trees. Ethan’s car felt like a sanctuary. The warmth from the heater and muted hum from our local soft rock radio station made me even more unwilling to get out. Ethan turned toward me, his usual sharp gaze softened by the dark blue-and-purple hues as the sun began to set behind us.
“Well, good thing I ran into you. It was nice to catch up.”
I pushed my hood back, freeing my long black hair. I wanted nothing more than to sit in this car with him a bit longer, and, without really thinking about it, I blurted out something that felt like word vomit, just to keep the conversation going.
“What about you? Are you applying to any colleges?”
Ethan leaned against his seat, a strange smile playing at his lips. He looked at me as though he was deciding whether I was worthy to hear his thoughts, but then he released me from his gaze. He shrugged and gave me a half-smile. “No.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure whether to congratulate him or tell him I was sorry. I knew college wasn’t the right path for everyone, but I’d wanted nothing more since my freshman year of high school than to go off to a faraway city and learn everything I could in a subject I was passionate about—a new profession, a career. I had a hard time imagining any kind of future without a college degree in it.
Ethan leaned in closer to me, his voice dropping low, like we were sharing some kind of secret. “I’m working on something, though. A project.”
“Yeah?” I was trying to sound nonchalant, like every nerve in my body wasn’t drumming with excitement.
Ethan killed the engine but kept the radio and heater on. He turned the radio down, quiet enough that we could comfortably carry on a conversation. With a thrill, I realized he was inviting me to stay in the car for a little bit longer.
“It’s sort of a speculative finance endeavor,” he said, running his hands through his thick, wavy hair. If I didn’t know better, I would say that he almost seemed a little nervous to be sharing this with me. “An investment strategy that I think could really change the game and make me tons of money. It’s not the kind of thing they teach you how to do in school, though, and I’ve never been good at sitting behind a desk for eight hours a day, so I figured, why bother?”
“I didn’t realize you were interested in the stock market.”
“I’ve been trying to teach myself about it. Reading books, watching investment segments on the news, following some finance blogs, that kind of thing. It’s a lot of material to sort through, but I actually enjoy learning about different companies and crunching numbers. It’s kind of lame, I know.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Ethan glanced over at me, quirking an eyebrow.
My cheeks reddened, and I gave a small shrug. “I mean, I like learning about Spanish eclecticism and American Impressionist painting in my free time, so finance doesn’t seem so off the wall.”
Ethan chuckled. “See? Smart, just like I said.”
I smiled back and bit my lip. I felt like we were sharing something special, and a certain sense of intimacy hung in the air between us. Surely, I was making this up. There was no way this cute guy and I—the same cute guy I’d been crushing on for years—could really have any kind of chemistry, right?
Ethan reached out to push a soaked strand of hair away from my face. I froze as his thumb brushed my cheek, the warmth of his skin burning against my own. He was leaning on the armrest, reaching over to close the space between us as though it were nothing, as though there should never be anything keeping us apart.
“Not smart enough to pack an umbrella on a rainy day, though,” he teased. His voice had grown quieter, and there was a sort of tenderness in it that made my chest tighten. My stomach fluttered quick and wild, like a thousand butterflies had taken up residence. I felt like if I didn’t do something to seize this moment, it would pass me by and never come around again.
I glanced at him from beneath my lashes. “Maybe that was part of my plan all along.”
“Oh?” His hand had come to rest on the juncture of my neck and shoulder, fingertips resting lightly against my damp skin.
“You have to admit, it’s a good way to get a guy to give you a ride home.”
Ethan smiled at me, and I could hardly remember my own name. “Looks like it. You haven’t been trying to get guys’ attention, have you? I’m not sure how your brother would feel about that.”
“Maybe one guy,” I admitted, my heart threatening to explode from the confines of my chest.
Ethan was so close, my breath stirred his hair, and his smile widened as he inched even closer to me. Every thought fell out of my mind as he leaned in. He kissed me, my lips gently parting under his own. Oh. My. Gosh. Did he ever kiss me! I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. I’d never been kissed before, and his lips touching mine sent shivers of excitement racing down my spine.
Ethan tasted minty, and the sexy stubble along his jaw scraped against my skin as he tilted his face to deepen the kiss. When he slipped his hands into my hair, and groaned from the back of his throat, I wanted to melt into him, to disappear into this moment and never return. A moment I’d always dreamed of but never thought would come true.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the living room light switch on in my house. Yellow light filtered out of the window and shone onto Ethan’s car, now idling in the driveway.
Ethan broke our kiss and glanced over my shoulder. I felt light-headed and disoriented, like I’d just been pulled from deep underwater. After a few seconds, I realized something was wrong, and I followed his gaze toward my house. Someone moved behind the living room window, peering out of the blinds, and I stiffened.
“I need to go,” I whispered. “It’s getting late, and my family is going to be looking for me.”
Ethan pulled away and leaned back into his seat—the conspiratorial glint in his eyes was gone. He was my older brother’s best friend again, friendly, but nothing beyond that. A dead weight settled inside my stomach. Was that it? Had I done something wrong?
“You’re probably right… Well, goodnight, Maya. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Maybe? What did that mean?
I grabbed my backpack and fumbled for the door. Suddenly I felt like I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. I wanted to be locked inside my room, poring over the memory of Ethan Gladwell’s mouth on mine and trying to make sense of what that meant—if anything.
“Maybe you will,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. I pushed the door open with my knee, but Ethan reached over to catch my hand.
He only touched me for a moment, his fingers squeezing mine, but I felt what seemed like an electric shock throughout my entire body. “Good luck, Maya.”
Then he turned back to the steering wheel, his lips pressed tight together in an unreadab
le expression, and I got the sense it was really time for me to go. I slid out of his car and darted across the wet grass to my front door. Ricky met me there, his short hair gelled into dark spikes, his brows knit together in concern.
Oh, God. Did he see me? Does he know?
“You’re all wet,” Ricky said, patting my soaked sweatshirt. “Did you walk?”
“Uh…” My face felt hot, and my heart was pounding faster than I could ever remember. I wasn’t afraid of Ricky by any means, but he was my protector and probably wouldn’t be too happy about the idea of me kissing older guys who weren’t my boyfriend. Well, definitely not his best friend.
I looked over my shoulder to the car slowly pulling out of the driveway. Ricky’s eyes softened in recognition. “Oh, Ethan gave you a ride home. Good. Well, get in here, dinner’s already on the table. I convinced everyone to wait for you.”
“Thanks,” I managed to say. I ducked past him into our small, crowded house, dodging some of my younger siblings as they whined at me for making them wait to eat, or proudly held out their glue-and- baking-soda slime creations.
Ricky lingered at the living room window for a moment, then drew the blinds and began ushering our siblings into the dining room. I hurried into the bedroom I shared with my youngest sister and dumped my backpack on my bed.
I flopped onto the duvet and buried my face in my pillow. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shout. Ethan Gladwell had kissed me. And I had kissed him back, like I knew what I was doing. It almost felt like a dream except I could still taste the sharp peppermint of his gum on my lips. I knew that soon the taste would fade, and I replayed the kiss in my mind, cataloging every detail so I would never forget it. Every second of the kiss felt precious. I didn’t know when I was going to see Ethan again—or, when I did, if he would pretend like it never happened, but I would never forget it.