Page 13 of The Roommate Experiment

Back at my place, I unlock the front door and kick off my shoes, stumbling into the dark apartment well past midnight. I grope the wall, searching for the light switch that eludes me in this new space. I’m completely disoriented, my mental map of my old apartment clashing with the unfamiliar layout of my sister’s—mine now, I guess.

Moving cautiously down the hall, I bump into something solid. A loud crash pierces the silence as glass shatters against the hardwood floor, the sound as sharp as a gunshot in the stillness. I take another step and cry out as a shard slices into my foot, sending a jolt of searing pain up my leg.

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath, hobbling forward, bumping into more stuff. Suddenly, something hard slams into my groin, and agony explodes behind my eyes, whitening my vision. I double over, gasping for air.

The impact sends me reeling backward and I land flat on my ass, thankfully avoiding the minefield of broken glass. A loud groan escapes me as I curl into myself, hands instinctively cupping my throbbing privates.

“Dylan?” a familiar voice asks tentatively in the darkness.

I can only muster another pitiful moan in response. Light floods the room and I squint to see Hunter standing over me, wild-eyed and panting. She’s wearing tiny shorts and a tank top that leaves little to the imagination, her raven hair a tousled, wild mess. And she’s gripping a baseball bat, while a bead of sweat trickles down her flushed face. I take in these details in a dazed blink.

“Oh my gosh,” Hunter squeaks, voice high-pitched with shock and remorse as I hunch over in pain. The bat clatters to the floor. She presses her hands to her mouth, eyes wide. “What the hell were you doing creeping around in the dark like some cat burglar?”

“I was just… trying to find… the damn light switch,” I grit out, each word a struggle to breathe through the nauseating waves of pain radiating from my groin. “Guess I haven’t figured out… the layout of this place yet.”

Hunter’s brow furrows. “Why didn’t you use the flashlight on your phone?”

“I was getting to that… before you went all Babe Ruth on my family jewels.” I grimace.

Her face crumples with guilt. “I’m so sorry.” She hurries over and carefully helps me to my feet, looping an arm around my waist to support me. As she presses close, I notice how amazing she smells—bright citrus and lush berries. Like an Italian summer, she’s sunlight and turquoise seas. For a second, I almost forget the throbbing ache in my privates.Almost.

We hobble awkwardly to the couch, Hunter bearing most of my weight. As she eases me down, her gaze darts to the hardwood floor behind us. “You’re bleeding.” She gasps, taking in the glistening trail of crimson droplets. “Wait here,” she orders before rushing off to the kitchen, leaving me drowning in the sweet scent of her shampoo and a growing sense of embarrassment.

Hunter returns a minute later carrying a bag of frozen peas.

I eye it dubiously. “Uh, not sure how peas will fix a bleeding foot, Hunt.”

“The peas are for your…” She gestures vaguely in the direction of my crotch, cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink. “You know.”

“Ah. Right.” I accept the makeshift ice pack with a grateful wince, gingerly pressing it against my bruised man bits. The cold seeps through the fabric of my suit, blessedly numbing the worst of the throbbing. I let out an involuntary moan of relief.

Hunter’s eyes nearly bug out of her head at the sound. Cheeks blazing, she spins on her heel and flees to the bathroom, returning with a first aid kit. Kneeling down in front of me, she chews her plump bottom lip uncertainly.

“I need to check that cut.” She reaches for my leg, fingertips grazing my ankle. “Is it okay if I strip your sock…?”

My mind short-circuits at the sight of her on her knees before me, at the soft caress of her touch. For a wild, inappropriate second, I mishear her request. Blood rushes to my face… and other extremities. I’m grateful for the frozen peas on my “sock” preserving the last shreds of my dignity.

I nod mutely, not trusting my voice. Hunter flashes me a reassuring smile and rolls up the leg of my suit pants. Delicate fingers hook into the top of my sock, peeling it down inch by tantalizing inch. The slide of fabric over my calf is electrifying, each brush of her fingertips against my ankle sparking currents that zing up my shin, through my thigh, straight to my… otherinjured part.

As she assesses the damage, dark hair falling in a silky curtain around her face, the thrum of pain fades away, replaced by a different kind of tension. One I shouldn’t be feeling for my roommate.

She trails a featherlight touch over the arch of my foot and I twitch, both from the tickle and the unexpectedly sensual sensation. “The glass is stuck in,” she informs me, glancing up with those impossibly dark eyes. “It’s best to get it out. I can do it, or we can go to the emergency room and have a professional look at it?”

I force myself to ignore the way my pulse quickens at her proximity. “Is it in deep?” I mentally kick myself for another double entendre.Real slick, Thompson.But she can’t be thinking what I’m thinking.

Hunter’s cheeks bloom again. “No, it’s not in too deep,” she replies, and I could swear there’s a slight catch to her voice. Is it my imagination, or is the air between us suddenly charged?

“Then hopefully, I won’t need the emergency room.” I attempt a grin, even though my heart is pounding so hard I might still require an ECG.

Hunter tears open a gauze packet and uncaps a bottle of disinfectant, soaking the white square. She locks eyes with me, her expression serious. “This could hurt.”

I shift on the couch, ignoring how the innocuous words sound intimate. “It can’t be worse than the bat,” I joke feebly.

Hunter’s face falls, her eyes shimmering with remorse. “I thought you were a home invader.” Her voice is small, laced with genuine regret, and a pang of guilt twists in my chest for upsetting her.

“Hey, no, it’s my fault,” I assure her. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile before turning her attention back to my foot. “Do you want me to count before I remove it?”

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