Page 175 of If Our Hearts Collide

Luke blocks his ears. “TMI. Sheesh, we just met.”

Smacking his arm, I giggle. “Stop it. I’m basically moonshine in the Abolition Era.”

“Now that sounds fun…”

“Until my brothers find out. They would lose their minds.”

Luke makes a face. “Sounds like they have anger issues.”

“That’s putting it mildly. You have no idea.”

“So how did you wind up trying to beat down the door to our place?”

“I forgot my key.”

I hope he doesn’t ask any detailed questions, because I have been sworn to secrecy about keeping Limit-X hidden from others.

I’m already mentally planning my next excursion there—if Yuri lets me back in—so I need to be extra careful to stick to the rules.

“Well, lucky for you, I just got out of the shower and was about to go to bed.” He wiggles his eyebrows like a cartoon character from the nineties. “And I own a queen.”

My eyes take stock of his wardrobe choice—or lack thereof. Wearing just a pair of black boxers, the man looks good. How am I only realizing this now?

“But you won’t own this queen,” I say, all smiles.

“Oh, that’s good. Offer still stands.”

“Thanks for letting me in,” I say meekly, ignoring his lazy proposition.

Luke gives me a once-over. “Glad I could help.”

His answer is serious and a bit sobering for my mood. Maybe we can be good roommates. So far he seems harmless. At the very least, I plan to laugh a lot while I’m here.

KNOCK.KNOCK.KNOCK.

Oh shit.

Luke’s eyes meet mine. I don’t know what to say, other than to shrug. He walks over to the door and peers out the peephole. Turning back to me, he snickers. “You order a tall, broody drink of water from GiveMeNow? Because I don’t think there’s refunds.”

I shake my head. Stomping toward the door, I round my shoulders. “I’ll handle this.”

“Alrighty. But if you need backup, I’ll be in my queen bed cozying up to my favorite porn.”

“Ew. Gross.”

“Everyone does it.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Well, everyone should do it,” he counters, walking backward away from the door. “And if they did, they would lower their standards on how they expect men to act in real life.”

“You are impossible.”

“Whatevs. Good night.”

“Good night, Luke.”

I take a deep breath and count to three. I can do this.

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