I knew without a doubt I’d made a mistake. I just wasn’t sure if the mistake was touching him or letting him think it meant nothing.
Blake
My new roommate is gay.
No big deal.
At least, it shouldn’t be.
Then he casually mentions that I’m not his type.
For some reason, those four words get under my skin.
I can’t stop thinking about them. About him.
Suddenly, I’m looking for excuses to be around him. Hanging out in the living room when I know he’s home. Walking around shirtless. Chasing his attention while pretending I’m not.
The more I want him to look at me, the more I start questioning why.
When a bad date leaves him frustrated and we’re stranded together on the couch, one reckless moment changes everything.
To him, it’s just an experiment. A curious straight guy figuring himself out.
To me, it feels like something far more life changing.
Because once I know what it’s like to have him, I don’t want to go back.
Now I have to figure out whether I’m really into guys… or just fixing my wounded pride.
And if I really do want him, how do I convince him he isn’t just a one time thing?
Find out in this short, roommates to lovers, high heat erotica story. First person, single POV, past tense.
***See Content Note
