The first thing Ethan noticed about his new roommate wasn't the guitar slung against the wall or the books stacked unevenly on the shelf. It was the silver handcuffs clipped carelessly to the bedpost.
"Nice accessory," Ethan said with a raised brow as he set his duffel down. The guy barely looked up.
Ryder was tall, inked across his forearm, and wore a smirk that made everything he said feel like a dare. "They're not for decoration," he replied, tossing his hoodie on the back of a chair. "Unless you want them to be."
Ethan pretended to scoff. "Kinky."
Ryder's eyes flicked up, locking with Ethan's for just a second too long. "Only if you ask nicely."
That first week passed in a blur of syllabus packets, cheap cafeteria coffee, and stolen glances. Ethan didn't know why he kept noticing
