Chapter 1

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Nicki

I pull up to my new home and see somebody sprawled on the front porch.

She's lying on her stomach wearing jeans and some crop top, her hair sprawled everywhere while her forehead pressed into the sagging boards.

Probably drunk. And blocking the damn door.

I close my eyes for a second and let out an exasperated sigh. All I want is to move in.

After a tense summer under the same roof as my grandmother, I left the Cooke Ranch just after dawn, anxious to start my new college life.

I was so wound-up from my never-ending battles with Virginia Cooke that I barely got any sleep last night; I've got a hell of a headache.

I'm so not in the mood right now to deal with anybody, much less Ms. Drunk Mess here. But it doesn't look like I have any choice.

As soon as I step out of my car, I hear her talking. To nobody apparently.

She's got her face pressed into the rickety-looking porch.

She's still murmuring something. Her voice is tender and deep; It's a nice voice.

I close the car door, maybe a little harder than necessary, and walk towards the house. Even with my sunglasses on, the bright sunlight seems to magnify my headache.

It takes me a moment to focus, and when I do, I see the lady is now on her feet, her hands wrapped around two of the porch posts, her bare feet hanging over the edge.

She's staring at me. And I cannot help but to stare back.

Because, drunk or not, she is easy on the eyes.

She's tall and fit with blonde curly hair and her lips is so kissable right now. I can see her abs underneath her cropped top.

And even several feet away, I can tell she's got amazing eyes. They're a very bright hazel eyes.

They make me think of the color of the summer sky at the ranch when the sun is rising, it's giving a golden vibe.

They're mesmerizing. And I'm just standing here, staring into them.

A slow, teasing smile climbs her face. " You our new homie?" she asks as my mouth drops open.

Oh God. Does she live here?

"Um yeah, I guess I am", I mumble, feeling my heartbeat speed up.

She steps off the porch and walks towards me, sticking  out her hand.

"I'm Beyonce Knowles. Looks like we're going to be housemates."

And I don't say anything. I'm freaking tongue-tied, my stomach suddenly doing calisthenics.

Because this gorgeous lady lives here. In the same house where I'm going to be living.

After a couple of moments where my mouth opens and closes like a fish, I manage to whirl around toward my old Nissan Maxima. I yank open a rear door and pull out an egg crate stuffed with my things.

Then I turn back to Beyonce Knowles, my face burning.

She's still got her hand out. But now, she's also wearing an amused smirk.

She can probably tell the effect she's had on me.

"Oh, sorry", I fumble as I shift the crate I'm holding to one hip and slip my fingers into hers. "I'm... um... Onika but you can call me Nicki".

I sound like I've forgotten my own name.

"Onika Maraj", I add more forcefully, breaking into a sweat.

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