Page 36 of Rinkmates

My stomach growls, reminding me I’m starving.

Yawning, I shuffle to the kitchen, my eyes set on my cereal like it’s the holy grail. It’s always been my thing. After a hard day, I earned myself some Fruit Loops. I just hate eating all that perfectly healthy food my dietitian organized for me. So every now and then I deserve my bowl of sugary cereal. But just as I yank open the fridge door, I almost knock myself out with it.

Because right there, sprawled out onmycouch, sleeps Liora. My eyes inevitably drift to her bare ass, barely covered by a tiny blue ballerina dress that rides up those glorious cheeks. I let out a sigh and bite down on my fist, trying to will away the impulse to stare at her perfect curves as if I haven’t seen any before. I’ve seen them all. But hell, this is different. She’s my roommate. And damn, what an ass.

The moonlight streams in through the window, casting a seductive glow on every inch of her body, and I can’t help but stare for a moment too long before jerking myself back to reality.Thou shalt not ogle thy roommate’s perfect asswas probably carved somewhere in that silly contract.

But how am I supposed to resist when it’s right there, taunting me? It’s like trying to ignore a glowing neon sign that says,Look at me! Bite me!

Fuck it, it’s just an ass. A really fucking amazing ass. I grind my teeth and turn away. Something must be wrong with me. I’ve seen plenty asses before. But none have made me bite into my own fist like I want to take a bite out of hers. Shit, this could be a problem.

Trying—and failing—to be quiet, I rummage through the fridge for the milk. I just need to focus on something else. I’m a pro hockey player. I’m a focused person. I can avoid that ass. I can resist staring at a girl. What kind of thought is that, anyway? Like I am so weak-willed that I cannot resist the sight of a stranger’s bare skin. It’s pathetic and stupid, really.

I pour the milk into a bowl, then grab my cereal, dumping it in. Just as I’m about to turn around and go to my table, I freeze. I won’t admit it, ever, but I know that if I turn and see her again, I’ll be glued to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away.

Normally, I’m strict about eating at the table, but here I am, nibbling while standing up, trying to keep my eyes on the fridge. My mind spins with exhaustion from the game and…somethingelse. Something intoxicating, electric, that I can’t quite name. It’s her. It’s always her. I want to stare at her so badly, but I do everything I can not to. I force myself to face the fridge, gripping the bowl, desperately trying to think of anything other than the pull I feel.

I grab my phone and text Jay.

Riley: I’m an idiot.

Jay: I know.

Riley: That’s all you say??

Jay: You’ve got so many problems, man.

Riley: I want to fuck my roommate.

Jay: You’re an idiot.

Riley: I came home and she flashes her ass, sleeping on my couch.

Jay: It’s her couch now too. Stop being a creep and go to your room.

Riley: Why do you think I’m being a creep? Maybe I am in my room.

Jay: Go to your room! You can fuck someone else. Not her.

I finish eating as quickly as I can, feeling nauseous from wolfing it down. Just as I’m putting the bowl in the sink, my eyes betray me and I look at her again. My stupid dick stirs. Seriously, fuck. I need to talk to Ethan and Nina. I can’t live with a woman without thinking about sex. When Jayce told me I can’t have sex with her, my brain wanted her more. Not even going to talkabout my dick. That thing wants her all day. I’m going to mess this up. They can’t expect me to have her—and that ass—in my apartment and not think about it. It’s impossible to resist when they practically handed me my dream woman on a silver platter. I have to stay away from her or risk losing my career for good. Fuck. My. Life.

I quickly sprint to my room, refusing to even glance at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. But as I’m escaping to safety, I happen to catch a glimpse of her shivering legs and stop. She’s freezing. Not my problem, not my problem…but wait, maybe it is my problem. What if she gets sick? I trudge back and grab a blanket. And that, folks, is what we call being a responsible adult.

Yet, as I approach her, I’m paralyzed.

She looks so peaceful, and all I want to do is touch her. No, I need to stop this. I need to get it together. If I could, I’d punch the shit out of me right now.

Her breathing is slow and even, and I can’t help but notice how soft her skin looks under the pale moonlight streaming in through the window. My heart starts to race as I reach out to gently push the blanket over her body. My fingers brush against the smooth fabric of her dress. She makes a soft sound in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent, and turns over slightly on the couch. And I think my soul just left my body. My heart is hammering up to my temples and I seriously question my sanity.

Her head tilts to the side, and a strand of blonde hair falls into her face. Acting on instinct, I gently tuck it behind her ear, my fingers grazing against her cheek. I quickly look away, trying to ignore the burn on my cheeks as I realize what I just did.

Enough.

I finally rush back to my room.

In my bedroom, I lie down under my covers, staring at the ceiling fan turning lazily above me.

I try to shift my thoughts away from her velvety skin. Those rosy cheeks. The way I wanted to bite into her ass. I know I need sleep—tomorrow will be a new day and everything will be back to normal. I count sheep.

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