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ME: You’re ridiculous.

HALLEY: This whole thing is ridiculous. Why haven’t we deleted this chat yet?

REAGAN: We haven’t bet on Halley sleeping with Ethan yet.

ME: Fuck yourself.

HALLEY: Even I think that’s unlikely.

ME: I won’t eat your brains if I become a zombie, Hals.

REAGAN: You’re going to live with him and not sleep with him??? Really???

HALLEY: We should probably bet on the likelihood of her murdering him first.

ME: I’ll put ten bucks into that.

REAGAN: You can’t bet on yourself.

ME: Since when was that a rule?

REAGAN: Since I just made it.

HALLEY: You can’t just make up rules, Reagan.

REAGAN: Sure I can. She’s either going to murder him or she isn’t. It’s the same logic as sleeping with him. She’s not going to half fuck him, is she?

ME: How would you half fuck someone?

HALLEY: Just the tip.

REAGAN: *finger pointing emoji*

REAGAN: Just pretend they wiggle

ME: …I think I’m done with this conversation.

HALLEY: Fifty bucks says she won’t screw Ethan.

REAGAN: Fifty bucks says at least the tip.

ME: I think it’s time for new friends.

CHAPTER FOUR – ETHAN

Roommate Warfare

My cock was as solid as a rock.

Burying my face into my pillow, I rolled over so I was half on my side and half on my stomach. It meant my cock was half-crushed, but it was better than the fucking alternative right now.

Two nights.

I’d slept in this apartment for two fucking nights, and I’d woken up twice with a hard-on.

Whoever thought living with your best friend’s hot as fuck little sister was a good idea was a goddamn idiot.

It was a shit idea. The worst idea I’d ever had. Not that it had been mine—it’d been Leo’s. Why I’d ever listened to that prick was beyond me. I didn’t believe for a second that the only apartment he could find was a one-bedroom place. My sister had shown me two two-bed places, after all, but they were both out of my price range as a solo renter.

Leo only went for the one-bed place because the girl he wanted to date lived in the building.

Since my grandma had moved in with my parents, there was no room for me there, either.

Which left me living with a stupidly attractive woman. The exact person I couldn’t do anything about. It wasn’t like I could act on my attraction to Ava. She was my best friend’s little sister.

She was the one woman in the world who was off-limits to me.

Leo had never said that. No. He never would, but I had respect for our lifelong friendship. The day I’d agreed to this, I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t lay a single finger on the raven-haired, snarky-mouthed, curvy-hipped woman who was now my roommate.

Then I’d walked in, and she’d murdered me with one look.

And it’d just made her even hotter.

Which was why I was lying here with a raging hard-on.

I reached for my phone and pulled up the latest baseball scores. I couldn’t give a flying, screeching fuck about baseball, but I needed to think about something other than Ava.

I scrolled.

And scrolled.

And scrolled.

But it was fucking useless.

It didn’t help that I’d held her against me last night. That I’d tucked her into my side to stop her freaking out and her curves had molded against my body.

Fuck.

This wasn’t going away.

Just like it hadn’t yesterday morning until I’d gotten into the shower and taken an unhealthily long cold one just to get rid of it.

I couldn’t do that this morning. Ava was already awake—her coffee machine was as loud as a herd of dinosaurs, and there was no sleeping through it. If I went into the shower and spent twenty minutes in there, she’d get the wrong idea.

The last thing I needed was a tongue-lashing from her about jerking off in the shower.

She bitched at me about enough as it was.

Which wasn’t really a bad thing. The more we bickered, the less chance there was of anything else happening.

Which was definitely not a bad thing.

I rolled onto my back and shut my eyes. If this erection didn’t disappear in the next two minutes, I would have to do something about it.

Seriously. This shit was ridiculous. I wasn’t fucking fifteen.

I was nearly fucking thirty.

I’d done my time where uncontrollable erections were concerned.

I counted to fifty, but no. My cock was still hard, throbbing against my boxer briefs. I had no other option. I had to get rid of it myself.

I slid my arm beneath the covers and slipped my hand under my boxers to grasp my cock. It was hot and hard in my grip, and I moved the waistband of my underwear so that I could move freely.

Flexing my fingers, I got comfortable in my grip and moved my hand from the base to the tip. I fisted it furiously, grinding my teeth in desperation to get rid of it.

It was like tugging on a rope.

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