He was my dirty little secret, but now he’s my new roommate—along with two other tempting men.
Moving into Baylor House—free university housing for former foster kids like me—is supposed to be a fresh start with others who’ve faced the same challenges. The only problem? The hot-as-hell residential advisor is the man I made out with at a wild costume party last week.
Diego doesn’t recognize me, but I remember the hunger in his kiss and the possessive glide of his hands over my body. I should be focused on my classes, not bracing for the moment he puts it together. And he’s not the only one of my new roommates who drives me to delicious distraction.
Aaron is gorgeous, confident, and every time he’s near, I forget how to breathe. He flirts like it’s a game, but the heat in his eyes tells me he’s not playing.
Cody is guarded and quiet, but his touch speaks volumes. There’s a lot I don’t know about the talented musician, but I’m dying to find out.
And Diego is supposed to keep us in line, but he bends his own rules for me. Our first kiss was reckless, but his cocky grin makes me crave more.
These men teach me things about pleasure I never even imagined. Our chemistry is off the charts, but old wounds don’t heal overnight. For the first time in my life, I feel like I might truly belong somewhere, but trusting it enough to build a future together could be the hardest lesson of all.
1
Mia
I’d survived five foster homes, a high school that barely qualified as one, and a year at community college. But now, I’d finally reached my goal: a scholarship to the prestigious Langley University, where I’d started my classes six weeks ago.
So why did tonight feel less like a welcome meeting and more like a gladiator pit?
The house I’d moved into earlier today felt like it had stories. It had seen dozens of students cycle through, and it wasn’t impressed by any of us. The couch I sat on was threadbare in spots, and one armchair had duct tape on the side. Four of my new housemates sat nearby. I wondered if they were nervous, too, or if they were just better at starting over than I was.
Odds were, we’d all had plenty of practice at it.
The other students looked to be within a year or two of my age, twenty. That probably meant none of them were the residential advisor, who was supposed to be running this meeting. He was in graduate school, and no one here looked like they were.
The guy in the armchair off to my left looked like a freshman, as did the shorter guy on the other sofa. The young man and woman seated with him looked to be sophomores or juniors.
The older of the two guys on the sofa got to his feet, and my first thought was that he’d just stepped out of a campus brochure—he was handsome, confident, and looked as if he’d never been nervous a day in his life. His tight jeans emphasized his long legs, and his navy sweater looked soft in that unmistakably expensive, definitely-not-from-a-clearance-rack way. He had a casually put-together vibe, while I was in jeans that hadn’t fit right since high school.
When he walked over, I almost glanced behind me to make sure he wasn’t aiming for someone else, even though there weren’t many of us here. “Got to even things out,” he said with a friendly smile, dropping onto the couch next to me. “You looked a little outnumbered over here.” His voice was easygoing, his posture relaxed. “I’m Aaron.”
It did feel better now that I wasn’t sitting by myself. “Mia,” I said, trying for a carefree tone. “Nice to meet you.”
Up close, he was unnervingly handsome. Square jaw with a trace of stubble and hazel eyes that flashed warm gold near the center and brown at the edges. His chestnut hair was styled casually, and the way his sweater clung to his chest and shoulders made me assume he was no stranger to the gym. I became suddenly aware of my posture—legs tense and pressed tightly together, hands folded nervously in my lap. Hopefully, I didn’t look like an alien approximating human behavior.
“So, you were in the Stepping Stones program?” he asked.
“Yes.” It seemed like I should say more than one syllable, but nothing came to mind.
“What’d you think?”
“It was okay.” The program I’d just completed was for students from shaky academic backgrounds. I’d gone to my classes as normal, but the program layered in extra lectures, meetings, and support. Basically, it was handholding, though no one called it that. Some parts helped, but I was relieved it was over. Now it felt like my real time at Langley had finally begun.
“It seems like a good way to start your freshman year.”
Aaron had an easy, relaxed manner about him that was calming if you could forget how good-looking he was. Which, right now, I couldn’t.
“I’m not exactly a freshman,” I said.
“What exactly are you, then?” He wore a subtle, crisp cologne that reminded me of pine trees, though I wasn’t the outdoorsy type. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d noticed a man’s scent unless it was bad. That definitely didn’t apply to Aaron.
“I went to a community college last year and was able to transfer most of my credits, so I’m almost a sophomore.”
“Well, I hope your almost-sophomore year is off to a good start.” He leaned closer, as if he were about to tell me a secret. “You look like you’re waiting for a job interview. You’ve already got six weeks under your belt at Langley. Tonight is nothing to worry about.”
“But I’ve only been here half a day,” I emphasized.
“You’ll love it here. And Diego’s a good guy.”
“Is he the RA?”
“Yeah, but we think of him as a cross between an older brother and a den mother. He grew up in the foster system like we did, so he knows what we’ve been through. I lived here last year, too, so I know him well. He’s a good guy, and he won’t put you on the spot, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll all introduce ourselves, even though you’re the only one who’s new.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“Everyone else moved in at the start of the semester.”
The nerves Aaron had soothed came roaring back. “Why make everyone sit through this? Why not just talk to me privately?” Nobody was going to like me if I was the reason for an extra meeting.
“Diego does things by the book, and he knows how disorienting it can be to move into a new place. We all do.” Aaron crossed one ankle over the other, and I couldn’t help noticing how snug his jeans were. “How many foster homes were you in?”
I yanked my gaze back up. “Five. You?”
“A bit less than that.” He sounded a little awkward as he answered, but before I could unpack that, he moved on. “You’ll like it here, but you’re in the minority. Jenna over there is your only female roommate.”
I looked over at the young woman on the other sofa. She had bold platinum blonde hair that I admired. Mine had red highlights, but my natural mousy brown still showed through. “Is she from last year, too?”
“No, only me, Diego, and Cody.” He scanned the room and sighed. “Cody’s not here, but you’ll see him around… eventually. He’s a good guy, but he keeps mostly to himself.” Aaron gave me a slow smile that made my pulse jump. “But don’t worry. You’ve already met the best housemate—me.”
I smiled back despite myself.
His brows creased. “There was another girl who was supposed to move in today, but something came up and she couldn’t make it.”
My stomach dropped. That was not a subject I wanted to discuss. Sara had been my foster sister in my early teens. We were as close as real siblings until our foster mom got pregnant with twins, and we were sent to different places.
We’d kept in touch and planned for this for years—to both study at Langley, finally living under the same roof again.
“Do you know why?” I asked carefully, hoping that he didn’t.
“No,” Aaron said. “But things happen. Maybe she’ll come next year.”
I hoped so, but it didn’t seem likely. Sara had changed while we were apart. I knew things got rough in her new home, but I didn’t know she’d started using drugs. I caught her with them a week or two into Stepping Stones. She swore it was a onetime thing. It wasn’t. When the program administrator caught her, she got kicked out of school.
When I found out, I rushed back to our temporary room, but she was already gone. After crying for most of the day, I went to a party, got drunk, and made out with some random guy—three things I never did.
That night was a blur, but flashes of memory flooded my mind—me straddling the guy’s lap, kissing him hard, and feeling his hands all over me. Luckily, some friends pulled me away before it went too far.
“There he is,” Aaron said, snapping me back into the present.
As my new residential advisor stepped into the room, my stomach plunged. I didn’t know why at first. Diego looked like any laid-back grad student: white T-shirt, faded jeans, open flannel shirt, and a good-natured smile. His warm-toned skin, dark hair, and Latino features somehow felt familiar.
Too familiar.
My chest tightened, and my mouth went dry. I knew him from somewhere. Maybe he’d given a Stepping Stones talk? But if he had, I wouldn’t be frozen, struggling to remember how to breathe.
Then it hit.
It was him. The random man I’d kissed like my life depended on it. The one I’d straddled, writhing in his lap as if we were alone. The one whose hands had roamed over nearly every inch of me.
Oh.
My.
God.
My new residential advisor was the guy from the party.
