The Room Mate (Roommates #1)

She shrugged. “It’s rare to be so disciplined about studying and goal-setting at such a young age. You’re actually kind of amazing, Cannon. And now you’re going to be a doctor in a few short months.”

Her compliment radiated through me. I rarely took the time to examine my way of life. I just did the work that was in front of me and kept going.

Of course, things had changed in the past handful of years. My mom had remarried and now my stepdad provided for her, so she technically didn’t need me to support her anymore. But she was immensely proud of what I’d accomplished, so I just continued on making lemonade, living the only way I knew how.

We finished dinner and carried our dishes to the kitchen. Standing side by side, she rinsed while I loaded the dishwasher. We made a pretty good team. Our new living arrangement should have felt strange, with all our old history and this new sexual tension crackling between us, yet it felt natural in a way I didn’t anticipate.

“Any big plans for tonight?” Paige asked, handing me the last dish.

I shook my head. “Not really. I may go out with some friends later, grab a beer. You’re welcome to come along.” I wondered what she’d make of Peter and his husband, Azan.

“No, that’s okay. I brought my laptop home. There’s a couple of work things I need to get done.”

“Work on a Friday night?”

I made a low sound of disapproval in my throat, but the truth was, her presence would cramp my plans if I was going to pick someone up. And something told me that alcohol plus Paige was a bad combination. All of our inhibitions would be lowered. Not that I was going to fall into bed with her—I had enough self-control to prevent that. Well, probably. But who knew what I might say? I couldn’t go admitting that the fifteen-year-old me used to jack off to her yearbook photo every night. I’d have my man card revoked.

“Did Allie mention that charity event to you tomorrow?” she asked, chewing on her lower lip.

I wiped my hands on a dishtowel. “I told her I’d go. You?”

She nodded. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Have fun tonight.” She grabbed her laptop bag from the floor of the dining room and disappeared to her room, like she was desperate to get away from me.

But what had I expected? We’d drink tequila and reminiscence about the past? Actually, yeah, I’d been kind of hoping we would. I guessed there was always tomorrow.

After a nice dinner together and easy conversation, I was pleased to see that perhaps our new living arrangement would work. Yes, I was sexually attracted to her, but that didn’t mean I’d ever act on it.

I headed to my room since I still had an hour before I was to meet up with the other interns from my program and a few friends from the hospital. Collapsing onto my horribly uncomfortable futon bed, I stuffed a pillow under my head and let out a heavy sigh.

Paige had been a surprise tonight. She was down to earth and easy to talk to. Optimistic and sweet. I knew I was cramping her style being here, but she handled it all with such grace. Of course, I wished she hadn’t felt the need to sneak off to her bedroom under the guise of having to work, but whatever. Everyone needed alone time occasionally. I was the same way. After a busy shift at the hospital, I craved silence.

Fishing my phone from my jeans pocket, I opened a social media app I seldom used. For some reason, I found myself typing Paige’s name into the search bar, clicking Enter, and then waiting while it pulled up her photo.

I clicked through the few photos she had shared, noting that most of them were either selfies or pictures of her and my sister. There didn’t seem to be a boyfriend in any of the shots, which was odd. She was gorgeous, and most of all normal. I didn’t know why I couldn’t seem to attract a nice, normal girl.

After tossing the phone onto the mattress beside me, I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and took a deep breath. Just looking at her had my cock rising. Knowing she was in the next room and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about my attraction to her was a bitch of a combination. I wasn’t used to having to exercise such self-control.

My hand wandered under my jeans, adjusting where my now hard cock was pressing into the zipper. Biting down on my lip, I took the weight of my cock in my hand and began to stroke.

I told myself it was merely cleaning out the pipes before I went out for the evening. It’s not like I could bring a girl home to Paige’s place.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I freed myself from the denim prison. Stroking in hard pulls, I imagined how Paige’s small, soft hand would feel moving up and down my shaft, her delicate fingers massaging my balls. With a swallowed grunt of pleasure, I pumped faster, racing toward my release.

A noise of surprise caught my attention, and I opened my eyes to see Paige standing in my doorway.

Fuck!

Unable to tuck my swollen cock back into my jeans, I pulled a pillow into my lap and gazed up at her. “Are you here to lend a hand, princess?”