The Roommate (Roommates, #1)

But before I could answer, Allie’s hand was on the small of my back, nudging me forward. “Go for it, Paige. You need all the practice you can get with the opposite sex, and it’s not like you’re going to fall for Cannon!” She laughed, giving me another shove.

Forcing a smile, I placed my hand in Cannon’s and let him guide me onto the dance floor, where other couples were swaying to the soft jazz floating around us.

“Thought I’d save you,” Cannon said, his voice rich and silky near my ear.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

My posture relaxed almost immediately. So that was what this was about. “Thank you.”

“She means well, you know.”

I nodded. That much was true.

While we danced, Cannon hummed along to the words of the Frank Sinatra song, moving and guiding me in sync with the music. I was starting to realize there were so many little things I didn’t know about this man.

Holding my hand in his large palm, Cannon gripped my hip with his other hand as he guided me across the dance floor. I glanced over every so often to see if Allie was watching us, but she wasn’t. She was chatting with an older man at the bar.

“Why are you still single?” he asked.

I looked up, inhaling the mouthwatering scent of crisp aftershave on his stubbled jaw.

“You’ve always been sweet and kind. I half figured you’d be married off by now.

I shrugged. “Not married. Not even close.” Just a soon-to-be thirty-year-old woman living with a dog.

“I see that. But you’ve grown into quite a beauty, princess. It makes no sense. Are you sure there’s not a reason you’re single?”

“No reason. I’m waiting for love,” I said, surprised at the honesty in my words. “And he seems to be taking his sweet time.”

Cannon nodded. “I see.”

As one song ended and blended into the other, Cannon continued to hold me, swaying to the music. We talked again about the art of making lemonade, and that’s when I decided I wasn’t just attracted to his good looks, or masculine appeal. I was attracted to the man inside, the person he’d grown into.

His words struck something inside me. I’d closed myself off to the idea of a relationship, and I couldn’t even explain why.

When the song ended, Cannon led us over to the bar, which was great. I found I suddenly needed something stronger than champagne.

Sipping a cranberry-vodka cocktail, I contemplated what I was doing with my life. Maybe Allie and Cannon were right. I needed to put myself out there more. I had a good job that I enjoyed, a nice home, a comfortable life, but I didn’t have anything real. Didn’t have a loving connection, someone to come home to, unless you counted Enchilada.

It had only recently started to bother me. Maybe it was because Allie was constantly pointing out my single status that it had been pushed to the forefront of my mind.

A little piece of me wondered if my desire for companionship was triggered by the warm, able-bodied male who was now sharing my space . . .

• • •

A couple of hours later, we’d had our fill of the gala. Allie drove us back to my house, talking of her adventures in planning their wedding. It was obvious that Cannon wasn’t any more of a fan of James than I was. He rolled his eyes at the mention of a groom’s party. That made me smile.

Stopping at the curb, Allie suddenly looked worried in the dim interior of the car. “You two can stay under the same roof and behave like adults, right?”

Cannon’s gaze met mine in the rearview mirror. “What do you think, Paige?” The hint of a smile on his full, sexy lips worked its way under my skin, taking up permanent residence.

“D-don’t be silly,” I forced out. My voice sounded unnaturally high and breathless.

“I just don’t want to turn on the news one day and find out you murdered each other,” Allie said.

I let out a shaky breath. She had no idea about my attraction to him-at least, not for the moment.

“Cannon, you should maybe get some earplugs. She snored like crazy when we shared a college dorm,” Allie continued. “And Paigey, don’t let Cannon leave all the chores for you. Crack the whip on his ass.”

“A whip. Now that’s an interesting idea.” Cannon chuckled, and I resisted the urge to kick the back of his seat.

Satisfied, Allie turned back toward the front. “Good night, guys.”

With uncertainty stirring in my veins, I climbed from the car and followed Cannon inside.

It was still early evening, too early to feign being tired and go to bed, so the only thing I could do was accept Cannon’s invitation to have a glass of wine.

I excused myself to change, exchanging my fancy dress and heels for yoga pants and a T-shirt. Then I rejoined Cannon in the living room. He’d shrugged off his jacket, which now hung on the back of a dining chair. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, and the sleeves had been rolled up on his forearms.

“Tonight was fun, huh?” he asked, stretching out his lanky frame on my small sofa, loosening his tie.

I accepted the glass of wine he offered and sat down in the armchair next to him. Fancy galas weren’t generally my thing, but it was nice to change it up once in a while. “I hadn’t been to that museum since my sixth-grade field trip. It’s so pretty there.” The stone building with its massive pillars out front stood like a beautiful reminder of the city’s history.

“Allie really wants you to sign up for that dating thing,” he said, appraising me. “Are you going to?”

I was sure I was reading more into his sudden interest than was actually there, but the question still triggered a swarm of butterflies inside me. I took another sip of wine to buy myself a few more seconds.

The truth was, I did want to find a good man. And the chances of finding my Mr. Right on a dating app were slim. But maybe that was okay. Maybe a Mr. Fun-for-Now would be nice too. A few decent orgasms wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I hadn’t had sex in well over a year, and according to Allie, that wasn’t normal for a woman in her twenties. Maybe I just wasn’t as bold and liberated as she was. But why couldn’t I be? What was holding me back? Why couldn’t I grab life by the balls and live, take my pleasure as I saw fit?

Pushing all that aside, I was much more interested in finding out about Cannon. “I dunno, probably not. What about you? Any interest in dating?”

His expression turned serious, and I wondered if I’d struck a nerve. He couldn’t be hung up on Allie’s warning, could he? He was a grown man and could date whoever he wanted to.

After a pause he said, “My past has dictated that I live by a strict set of rules when it comes to sex. It only happens once, and no exchanging names or numbers.”

I rolled my eyes. “How romantic of you.”

“You don’t approve?”

“Spoken like a true manwhore.”

“It has nothing to do with being a manwhore; I can promise you that. My number is actually fairly low. Healthy, but low.”

“What’s the point then?” I took another sip of wine, enthralled by his deep, low tone.

“In my experience, women turn into crazed creatures after sex.”

I huffed. “Crazed? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He made it sound as though we were nothing more than delicate hormonal messes who lost their minds at the thought of mating.

“I have a long and storied history with this. Trust me.”

“Beginning with?”