“You have run from me for too long; now I’m finally going to make you mine. And I will not stop until you’re sore and that sweet mouth of yours is begging for mercy.”
Leaving for college was the best decision I ever made. No more strict, controlling parents, no more being the social outcast, and no more getting bullied by magazine-cover-looks Asher. Now I had friends, albeit few, had a couple of girlfriends, depending on who you ask, and even won a round of beer-pong that one time, against my Culinary Major mates.
On the first day of my sophomore year, I pray my new roommate will at least not mock my hand-painted figurines. That’s my baseline, if the guy can talk about anything other than football, I might just kiss him. Not that I’m gay or anything. Making welcome muffins for your new roommate is something straight guys who want to become pastry chefs do. Right?
Then the door opens and I want to believe that this is nothing but an expired seafood noodles-induced nightmare.
In all his jock glory, freshly transferred and already captain of the football team, and with a glint in his eyes that spells only trouble for me: Asher Collins.
