My Roommate is Hot

High

•.•Skylar•.•

I rolled onto my side for the hundredth time since the party started, because obviously they had the music at the highest volume — inconsiderate of anyone else.

I grabbed the pillow and pressed it over my ears, hoping it would numb the sound a little, but no. Nothing helped.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling, flat-out annoyed. This was ridiculous. Absolutely inhumane.

I had classes in the morning and I needed my sleep. I wasn’t about to show up looking like a zombie, and my sleep-deprived brain definitely wouldn’t process anything.

If there was one thing I cherished more than anything, it was my sleep. And now I couldn’t even have that.

Reaching out, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, swung my legs off the bed, and stared at the screen.

Two a.m.

They’d been at it for hours now, and while I’d hoped the music would eventually get lower, it only got louder, and I kept tossing around my bed.

I unlocked my phone and saw a text from Harper:

Harper: How’s it going?

Sent 4 hours ago

I sent her a quick reply even though I doubted she’d be awake. I was right — judging from the single tick.

I scrolled through my contacts and tried calling Jaxon. He better be with his phone.

After three tries and a frustrated groan, I gave up. I needed to leave my room, hunt him down, tell him to lower the music, then crawl back into my bed.

I walked to the door, and through the pounding music I could hear excited chatter. From how loud it was, I’d bet a couple people were standing right outside.

I took a deep breath, turned the key, and pushed the door open.

And Jesus — there were so many people. The couch and table had been shoved to the far end of the living room to create more space, making it look bigger than usual.

Where was I even supposed to start looking?

I was right about the group near my door — three girls, all staring at me like I’d just sprouted horns.

I was in my sleep pajamas, hair a mess from tossing around, face bare, feet bare.

Did I care? No. I just needed to find Jaxon and disappear back into the hole I crawled out from.

I turned to them, ignoring their see-through, shabby dresses and the red plastic cups in hand. Seeing one reminded me of last night.

I hated the reminder.

“Hi. Where’s Jaxon?” I asked.

They murmured among themselves. One girl gave me a slow once-over before pressing her lips together.

“Are you… are you his girlfriend?” she asked, ending it with a chuckle — mocking and obvious.

I knew exactly why she asked.

I still answered, because the thrill of putting her in her place was worth it.

“Yes.” I tipped my chin up, trying to look condescending.

They shared a look. I glanced around again.

“Now, where is he?” I asked.

Another girl snickered. “He can’t possibly date you.”

I pursed my lips. Oh, two-faced bitches.

“Have a good time in believing or doubting,” I said dismissively, brushing past them. I was not in the mood for chit-chat with girls who thought they were better than everyone else.

And with how people were staring at me — yeah, no one was going to help me find him.

Apparently I had a knack for drawing attention in parties — because of my dressing.

I wandered aimlessly for the next five minutes. I checked the kitchen, peeked into Jaxon’s room (well, peeked and left immediately after seeing a bunch of guys smoking), and still found nothing.

“You looking for someone?” a voice asked from behind me, right as I was staring — with mild disgust and curiosity — at a couple making out.

I whipped around so fast, mortified to have been caught staring.

My face heated as I looked up into amused brown eyes. He raised his cup to his lips, and I watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed.

That was attractive. Insanely attractive.

He lowered the cup and brushed back his hair and good Lord — he was pretty. High cheekbones, sculpted nose, soft lips… He should be preserved as a tourist attraction.

I cleared my throat as one of his brows lifted. He’d asked a question.

“Um, yeah. I’m looking for Jaxon,” I said, intertwining my fingers, suddenly conscious of what I was wearing.

His brow rose higher. He nodded.

“I can take you to him,” he offered.

I hesitated. That was… fast.

And no — I didn’t know this guy. For all I knew, he could be another Collin.

“He’s just somewhere around,” he chuckled. “I’m not taking you out of the building.”

His eyes searched my face. I bit my bottom lip.

Well… he didn’t exactly look dangerous.

But charming could also be a trap.

I nodded, and he gave me a small smile, leading the way as I fell into step beside him, wrapping my arms around myself.

It didn’t help. The attention doubled just because he was next to me.

I just wanted to sleep.

“I’m Andy, by the way,” he said. “Jaxon’s friend.”

I raised a brow. Oh wow — he had friends.

I pursed my lips and nodded as we headed toward Jaxon’s room.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he led me in. Eyes turned toward us immediately. I hugged myself tighter and searched the room.

I found him.

Far end of the room, a puff of smoke leaving his lips. Sitting on a chair, legs spread, blunt between his fingers.

It was darker over there, so I couldn’t see his face clearly — but I knew he’d seen me. His hand lowered slowly.

I felt the glare before I saw it.

“He’s over there. Thank you,” I muttered to Andy before walking toward Jaxon, who was already on his feet and approaching.

Up close, his glare wasn’t fully directed at me.

It was aimed at Andy.

“What are you doing with her?” he asked, voice unexpectedly hoarse, deep, low — so low I could feel the rumble under it.

I took in his appearance. Ruffled hair falling over his forehead, brushing his brows, giving his eyes a dangerous look.

When his gaze landed on me for a split second, my stomach dipped and I felt warm.

He was hot. Too hot.

And I shouldn’t be finding him attractive.

“She was wandering. Looking for you,” Andy said with a shrug.

I looked between them.

Wait. They weren’t friends?

Jaxon’s gaze dropped down my body and his jaw tightened.

He hissed, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward my room.

“What are you— your fingers hurt,” I yelled over the music. His fingers was digging into my skin. Pretty sure he’d leave a bruise.

People stared. Murmured.

He dragged me inside my room, shut the door hard, and locked it.

I held my arm and backed away.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, rubbing the sting away.

“I told you to stay the f**k inside,” he retorted, stepping closer.

“I couldn’t sleep. The music was too loud and I’ve tried calling you.”

“I said to stay inside.”

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. No — he looked high. On whatever he smoked or drank.

“You cannot treat me like a child because my dad told you some s**t,” I shot back.

His eyes dropped to my body again. He gritted his teeth.

“And not in that,” he hissed. “Do you know how flimsy that material looks?”

I reared back slightly. Was this about me being out… or my pajamas?

He stepped closer.

“Anyone could see the outline of your breasts…”

I raised my arms to cover my chest.

“Your bare neck…” He drew in a breath.

“Do you know what that does to men?”

“Sorry I’m wrong for putting my hair up before going to bed,” I scoffed.

“That is not it,” he bit out.

I stared at him — confused, annoyed, hurt. And warm. Too warm with him this close.

He stopped a step away and tilted his head back, running his fingers through his hair.

My eyes dropped to his throat.

Biteable.

I shook my head. I could not be attracted to two male necks in one night.

“You’re so f*****g innocent,” he whispered. His eyes softened for a fleeting second before they blanked out. “And you should remain like that.”

I held my breath. He was too close. I hadn’t realized.

Silence.

“Stay away from him,” he said suddenly, turning and heading for the door.

“Hey! What about the music?” I called.

He paused, glanced back.

“There’s nothing I can do about it.”

He shut the door behind him.

That was it? He could do nothing?

I huffed.

I knew someone who could do something.

Yeah — the f*****g cops.

Gosh, he was annoying.