Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps)

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Tempt Thy Neighbor (Roommate Romps) Page 6

by Teagan Hunter


  Holland looks sheepish. “I promise I’m a much better tenant than him.”

  “Trust me, that’s an easy task. He’s always playing that god-awful music way too loud and sitting out on the balcony pretending he’s trying out for American Idol.”

  Holland laughs. “That damn guitar of his. Drives me nuts. Should have seen him when he was younger, always running around the house with it strapped around his neck pretending to be the next Elvis Presley.”

  It’s easy to see the pride in her eyes.

  I’ve always been a little jealous of the relationship Dean and Holland seem to have. My brother and I have never been on good terms, but those two? Practically inseparable in high school. Wherever Dean went, Holland followed.

  I secretly wished Thomas and I had a bond like that.

  Lucy grins. “Don’t tell the kid, but he’s probably my favorite tenant, even though he’s a huge pain in the ass.” She pins me with a hard look. “And you? Gonna give me trouble?”

  I’ll admit it: even as a grown-ass man, her stare makes me want to shit my pants.

  “No, ma’am,” I tell her with an easy smile. “Holland here keeps me in line.” I tap her with my elbow, and she pastes on a sugar-sweet grin.

  “Good.” She nods again, then spins on her heel. “It’s a two-bedroom, two-bath with a walk-in shower in the en suite.” She moves us through the apartment, giving us details on rent and other expenses. Every time I speak, Holland’s lips pinch tighter together, and she glowers at me every chance she gets. It’s obvious she’s annoyed with me. You’d have to be a fool to not pick up on the tension between us. There’s no way Lucy doesn’t feel it too.

  “This is a wonderful apartment,” Holland compliments as we make our way back into the living room. “If it’s okay with you, I would love to discuss everything with my…boyfriend for a moment.” She practically chokes on the word, and it takes everything I have not to laugh.

  Lucy looks between us again and I know she wants to say something about the weird vibe we’re giving off, but she thinks better of it. “Of course. I’ll just be right outside. Take your time.”

  As soon as the door clicks shut, Holland whirls around, finger poking into my chest. “What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here, Sutton?”

  “Again with that question.” I toss my head back, completely over this line of inquiry. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here looking at an apartment with my girlfriend.”

  “I am not your girlfriend,” she mutters through gritted teeth. “And this is not your apartment to be looking at. How the hell did you even know I was here?”

  “Honestly, you weren’t supposed to be. You were early.”

  I see the wheels spinning in her head and the moment everything clicks together for her. Her jaw drops. “You were going to steal the appointment.”

  “Bingo, princess.” I wink.

  “And just how did you expect to do that?” she asks, ignoring the pet name I know she hates. “Lucy knew the appointment was with me.”

  “You are severely underestimating my ability to charm a woman.”

  “Oh, yes, because Lucy is so charmed by you.” She rolls her eyes.

  “I’m sure if you weren’t here, she would have no problem falling for my charm.”

  Her nose wrinkles. “Were you going to seduce her? She’s basically old enough to be your mother.”

  I shrug. “Wouldn’t be the first time I went after a cougar.”

  “Real nice, Sutton.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and like a total asshole I am, my eyes go straight to her tits. She doesn’t miss it. Huffing, she drops her arms. “I’d say I can’t believe you’d stoop this low, but, well, I know you, so I can definitely believe this.”

  Know me? Holland Evans doesn’t know me.

  Not anymore.

  “So what’s the plan?” I ask. “How are we going to do this?”

  “Do what? You mean how are you going to walk out there and tell Lucy you’re a complete moron and you are not my boyfriend and you will not be living in this apartment with me? I don’t know. You’ll have to figure that out on your own. As for me, I’ll be the one signing the lease.”

  “Holland, come on, you can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I am dead serious.”

  “I heard the cost of rent just as clearly as you did, and I saw the way your shoulders tightened when she dropped that bomb. You can’t afford this place on your own.”

  Unlike my father who was content to keep me under his thumb by paying for my apartment, Holland’s father was of the mindset that she was the one who needed to make her way through life on her own. Sure, she had a place at his company, but she was expected to climb the ladder just like everyone else. She didn’t have any handouts, and she certainly didn’t have a trust fund waiting for her like I do.

  Did.

  She can’t afford this place on her own, and if I have any hopes of maintaining my current lifestyle, neither can I. She’s going to need a roommate to make it work, and I can tell she really wants to do just that. I saw the way her eyes practically glazed over when she saw the waterfall showerhead in the en suite, and I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that her brother is in the same building. She’s living in a brand-new town; she’ll want him close by.

  She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, and I have the strangest urge to reach over and pluck it free.

  To soothe away her bite with a kiss.

  To see if she still tastes like cherries.

  “It is a little more expensive than I was expecting,” she says, drawing my attention back to her eyes. “I was hoping they’d have a one-bedroom unit available.”

  “See? You need me.”

  Her lips curl into a sneer, and I know instantly that was the wrong choice of words.

  “I don’t need anyone, Sutton, least of all you.”

  I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sting.

  “You might not need me, but you’re wrong about the other part. You do need someone—a roommate. I can be that roommate for you.”

  “Have you lost your damn mind?” she practically screams. “There is absolutely no way in hell I would ever live with you.”

  “Come on, Holland, be an adult about this. I—”

  “Stop telling me to be an adult about things!” she explodes. “You were the one who wasn’t an adult four years ago when you left me half naked in a coat closet and then never spoke to me again without so much as a ‘Thanks for the orgasm.’”

  With as cold and distant as she’s been, a part of me wondered if she’d forgotten about all our time spent together tucked away in those closets.

  I sure haven’t.

  Sometimes, I swear I can still taste that damn cherry lip balm she wears.

  “Is that why you won’t accept my very generous offer of providing you with the roommate you desperately need—because you’re too afraid you’re unable to resist me?”

  “Please.” She huffs. “That is so not it.”

  “No? Then what is it?”

  I close the small gap between us. We’re so close she has to tip her head back to look up at me.

  But no matter how intimidating my height is, she doesn’t back down. It’s something I’ve always appreciated about her. She never backs down from any challenge, not even in high school when all the mean, preppy bitches she hung out with would try to embarrass her in front of everyone by asking about her days of being poor. She would always hold her chin high and meet them pound for pound.

  According to my sources, that’s what landed her here—sticking up for herself.

  I wish I had the guts to stand up to my father the way she stood up to hers. Instead, I just made a big mess of things.

  “I think we both know how much you struggle to resist me, Holland.”

  Her nostrils flare, eyes sparking. I bet if I were to look down right now, I’d see her nipples straining against that damn cotton sundress.

  A memory of her head thrown back with pleasure as I sucked
her nipple into my mouth flits through my mind.

  I quickly push it away, trying not to let myself get distracted so I can retain the upper hand.

  “Just because I was young and dumb once doesn’t mean I’ll make those same mistakes again.”

  “Then prove it. Let me be your roommate. Let’s see if you can keep your hands to yourself.”

  She scoffs, curling her lips back. “Why? Why do you want to be roommates, Sutton? Ran out of Daddy’s money? Can’t afford a place on your own? Tell me why I should allow you, the Barnes family fuckup, to live with me. So you can wreck my apartment like you did that boat?” She barks out a laugh. “Yeah, I know all about why you’re living here. I know why your family kicked you out.”

  I hate the way she’s taunting me. Which, yeah, makes me a hypocrite because I’m goading her right back. But she has no idea the shit I’ve been putting up with when it comes to my family.

  Instead of telling her my side of the embarrassing failure—it would be pointless as she’s already made up her mind about it—I say, “All I’m hearing is a weak excuse and you being unable to admit what we both know is true.”

  Her eyes fall to slits again. “You were the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

  “As I recall it, you’re the one who hiked her dress up and begged for release.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Am I? Prove me wrong, then. Let’s share the apartment, see who can’t keep their hands off whom.”

  “What, like a bet?”

  Shit. She’s playing right into my plan, and I almost feel bad about it.

  I knew if I plucked at her strings long enough, that competitive side of her would come out to play eventually. She used to love to one-up me, always feeling like she had something to prove.

  “Whoever can last six months without caving first can keep the apartment.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re delusional. I am not participating in this idiotic idea.”

  “Why not? Scared you’ll lose?”

  “No!”

  “Then it’s a deal?”

  “Yes!”

  A victorious smile curls over my lips and her face falls, realizing what I just cornered her into.

  She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Dammit, Sutton.”

  “Your word is your vow, Evans. We both know how that game works.”

  “I hate you,” she seethes.

  “Then you should have no problem keeping your hands to yourself.”

  “And if neither of us caves?”

  “I don’t think we need to worry about that,” I say confidently.

  “Sutton…”

  “Then we renew it for another six months.”

  Her green eyes swirl with irritation, and I have no doubt she’s planning my demise as we speak.

  “I have conditions,” she says after several silent beats.

  I roll my eyes. “Of course you do.”

  She holds up a finger. “Number one, we split everything evenly. That way you’re not able to lord anything over my head.”

  “And you’re not able to lord anything over mine. Seems fair. What else have you got?”

  “We can’t tell anyone at work we’re living together.”

  “Are you ashamed of me, Holland?”

  “Yes.”

  There’s no hesitation in the word, and it fucking stings.

  “Fine. It’s probably for the best anyway. No need to spark any unnecessary rumors. What else?”

  “We keep it honest. If you have any inkling of desire to get into my pants, we call it.”

  “And if you want to get into mine?”

  She laughs sardonically. “We really don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Any other conditions?”

  “Yes, I’m getting a cat.”

  “Like hell you are. I’m allergic.”

  “I’m allergic to you and I’m still letting you live here.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Cat or no deal.”

  I grind my teeth. “If you want a damn cat, I get the waterfall shower.”

  I see her trying to work it out in her head, deciding which one she wants to sacrifice.

  “Fine,” she finally snaps, and I mentally high-five myself.

  “Fine. Anything else?”

  “Just that I hate you.” She smiles sweetly, though her words are anything but.

  “Feeling’s mutual.”

  Even though she’s mad right now, I can see the flash of relief in her eyes. Deep down, she knows this is a good thing.

  For at least six months, she won’t have to worry about a roommate. Won’t have to worry if she can afford the rent or not.

  Neither of us has anything to lose—aside from our sanity—in this scenario.

  I stick my hand out to her, and she sneers down at it.

  “What?”

  “We need to shake on it.”

  “I thought my word was my vow.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t trust you. A shake will cement the arrangement.”

  With reluctance, she slips her hand into mine, and I pull her forward until she’s pressed against me.

  “Game on, princess.”

  7

  Holland

  I have never been one to back down from a competition.

  But just this once, I wish I had. Wish I had thought it through.

  The last week has been a complete whirlwind.

  If you had told me I’d quit my job with my father, move to an entirely different city, get a new job, and be living with Sutton Barnes—all within one month—I’d have taken you in for a drug test myself.

  But here I am, doing just that.

  I have no idea what possessed me to say yes to living with him.

  The drive to beat him? The desire to prove to him that he doesn’t have the hold over me he thinks he does? The convenience of not having to find a roommate?

  I don’t know, but I can’t take it back now.

  Now all I can do is make sure I don’t kill Sutton…or fall for him again.

  Which shouldn’t be hard. I’m moving on with my life, and that includes not being hung up on the past.

  If I’m starting over, I’m really starting over.

  Fresh city, fresh job, fresh apartment, and fresh things. Which is why I’m standing in a furniture store with Sutton.

  Dean and his best friend Nolan offered to take Nolan’s truck back to Wells Springs and load it up with the things I wasn’t able to fit into my car so I wouldn’t have to see my ex-roommate or chance a run-in with my ex-boyfriend, but I declined. I wasn’t eager to see the couch I caught them screwing on and didn’t feel like I could trust them enough to not have done it in my bed either.

  I don’t even want to think about the dent I’m putting in my savings account this week between the initial payment on the apartment and furnishing it, but I know in the end it’ll be for the best.

  Just like this new direction my life is taking…I hope.

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “And why is that?”

  He looks down his nose at the throw pillow I’m holding. “Because it has flowers on it.”

  “Really? Do you think your masculinity is threatened by some damn flowers?”

  “No, but my fucking eyesight is. It’s hideous and something my mother would pick out.”

  His mom? Yikes.

  I quickly shove the pillow back onto the shelf. “Don’t have to insult me.”

  He laughs at my reaction. “Not a fan of my mother?”

  Over the years, I’ve spent a fair amount of time with her at various events, and I can safely say that no, I am not a fan of her. If I thought my mother was overbearing and haughty, well she’s a damn saint compared to Lucinda Barnes.

  I’ll never forget the time she pulled me aside and informed me that if my goal was to attract the attention of every happily married man at the event that evening, I was succeeding with the “slutty” dress I was wearing. It was a simple floor-le
ngth black gown with a cutout in the back.

  From then on, I made sure all my evening wear showed off my assets just to spite her.

  “Can’t say I am. She doesn’t have a very high opinion of me. I’m sure she’s pleased as punch to know we are now living together.”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  I lift a brow at him. “Really?”

  “Really. That would require me talking to her, and I’d rather not.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why not. I’ve seen her name flash across his screen multiple times already today, and I have been curious why he continues to ignore her calls. But I don’t ask. If I ask, I’m sure he’ll want to know why I’m ignoring my father’s calls, and I don’t want to get into that whole ordeal.

  We’ve been living together for all of twenty-four hours now and have so far somehow avoided any confrontation. That could be because I’ve spent every moment I possibly can avoiding Sutton. Either way, I’d like to continue that trend.

  If we can get through this store without killing each other, I’ll consider today a huge success.

  When he asked me if I wanted to go shopping with him, I couldn’t really say no.

  Our beds were delivered this morning, but we still needed the basics like kitchenware and towels. My car is already full of stuff, but I couldn’t resist stopping off at a furniture store to look at couches.

  “What about this one?” he asks, holding up a pillow.

  “You want a plain black pillow to go on our gray couch?” I crinkle my nose. “No.”

  “Why not? It matches.”

  “It’s boring.”

  “They’re just pillows. I don’t even know why we need them in the first place.”

  “Because they’re homey, and I intend for this apartment to be my home for a long time.”

  “So confident you won’t lose.”

  “Sure am.” I grab two yellow striped pillows and head toward the front before he can argue.

  I have zero intentions of losing this ridiculous bet with Sutton. Might as well decorate the place how I like since it’ll be mine in the end.

  When the sales associate gives us our total, I’m annoyed when Sutton slides his credit card over.

 

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