𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨?
Newly graduated accountant Cordelia Ashling has come to terms with the fact that her life is destined to be absolutely uneventful. That is until her parents gift her wi...
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"I can carry something, you know. My arms aren't broken," I insist, scurrying to keep up with Elias's long strides down the hall from my room to his.
"I am aware of that, Cordelia. Just because you can doesn't mean you're going to. You had a traumatic experience tonight; you should exert yourself as little as possible so that you don't end up having an asthma attack," he says without looking back at me, and I have the urge to kick him in the back of the leg and hug him around the waist at the same time.
I do neither and when I finally catch up with him, we are already at his door. "But you can help me by reaching in my pocket and grabbing my room key."
I raise an eyebrow and slide my fingers into the front pocket of his board shorts. He stiffens and glances down at me with an amused expression. "My back pocket, Cordelia."
My cheeks heat and I yank my fingers from his shorts, cringing at my mistake. "Oh, shit. Sorry." I pluck the key from where it is clearly hanging out of his back pocket and slide it into the lock, pushing open the door. "Be more specific next time and maybe you won't get groped."
He releases a long breath, and his eyes shoot to the side to give me a warning glare. I might have shied away and felt my face burn with embarrassment if it weren't for the slight upturn of one side of his mouth. I think my grouchy new roommate enjoyed my touch.
I step aside so Elias can enter the room first. He heads down a hallway with my suitcases as I remain stunned in place in the doorway. I thought my room was beautiful with its antique furnishings, but this... Elias has been living like a king.
His four-post bed is a monstrosity of hand-carved ebony wood and lush black bedding. Elaborate silver filagree is embroidered along the edge of his comforter and pillowcases. The two towering windows along the far wall look like something out of a gothic church, framed in thick black curtains. French doors sit between them, leading to a balcony beyond. I drop my purse on one of the two velvet chairs in front of the fireplace and crane my head back to admire the wrought iron chandelier above.
"I'd hate to know what you did to get this room?" I say, spinning in a slow circle.
"I sacrificed a virgin and sold my soul to the dark king," he says, joining me again.
My jaw drops and I feign shock. "The Dark King? I think I read a book about that once. It was really spicy. Any chance you got some action on your end of that deal? Or was the room the only perk?" I ask, walking to him and bumping him with my hip.
"No, just a damned soul. But it is worth it for one summer of comfort while I'm in the most uncomfortable situation I can imagine." He meets my gaze. "Not that I include you in my discomfort."
I swallow and give him a tight-lipped smile. "You didn't really sacrifice a virgin, did you? Or sell your soul to some other entity? That's kinda creepy. I don't know if I can live with a creepy guy for the rest of the summer. I thought that's why I moved in. To stay away from the creepy people." I pause, wondering if I should tack a real question onto my jokes, and ultimately decide that I might as well; this night can't get any weirder. "Why is this the most uncomfortable situation you can imagine, if it's not because of the practical stranger living in your room with you?"
