Page 17 of Shared by My Roommate

I watch his sleeping face and think about the way he fucked Finn, that filthy voice pouring out of him. Finn loved it. Finn came apart from it, sobbing and begging. And the whole time, some reckless corner of my brain kept wondering: what would that feel like? What would it feel like to have Nolan over me like that?

My dick stirs against my thigh, and I huff a quiet laugh at myself. Yeah. I’m not as shocked by last night as I’m supposed to be. Mostly I’m wondering when we can do it again, and how much further it can go. I want more.

I stretch carefully, pointing my toes, rolling my shoulders, trying not to jostle either of them. Finn makes a small sound and presses closer, and I go still, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot.

Then the doorbell rings.

It’s an insistent, leaned-on buzz, and then it comes again, and Finn jolts against me with a confused little noise. Behind him, Nolan lifts his head, blinking, hazel eyes bleary.

“What,” he says, which isn’t a question so much as a complaint.

“Door,” I say. “I’ll get it. You two stay put.”

Finn is already sinking back into the pillow, and Nolan grunts a thanks. I peel myself out of the tangle and hunt for my clothes. My jeans are inside out by the foot of the bed, and my t-shirt is halfway under the dresser. I pull them on, drag a hand through my hair, and pad down the hallway barefoot as the bell rings a third time.

“Coming,” I mutter. “Jesus.”

I yank the door open and blink. It takes me a second to place the guy standing there. Tall, decent-looking in a forgettable way. I’ve seen him once before, in this exact apartment, months ago, when he came by to pick Finn up for something.

Drew, Finn’s ex as of about twelve hours ago.

Something in my chest goes hot and tight.

“Can I help you?” I ask, and I don’t bother making it friendly.

His eyes do a quick pass over me, and his mouth pulls down like he’s tasted something off. “I’m looking for Finn.”

His arrogance lands wrong in every way. This man made Finn cry, and now he’s standing here, looking inconvenienced.

My hand tightens on the door. There’s a clear, vivid picture in my head of my fist meeting his face, and I let myself have it for one full second before I set it down.

“What do you want with him?” I ask.

His eyebrows climb. “Excuse me? That’s none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business.”

“Who even are you, the roommate’s guard dog?” He shifts his weight, trying to look past me into the apartment. “Can I come in?”

I don’t move. There are footsteps behind me, and then Nolan’s voice, rough with sleep and hard at the edges.

“Sawyer. Who is it?”

I step aside so Nolan can see, and the sound he makes is closer to a growl than a word. He’s shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, and the look on his face could strip paint.

Then Finn comes up the hallway. He’s wearing nothing but those tiny shorts from last night, riding low on his hips. His hair sticks up in every direction, his eyes are still puffy with sleep, and he looks like a rumpled angel. He also looks like a crime scene. The marks are everywhere, dark against his pale skin. Hickeys down his throat. A bite blooming on his collarbone, another on his hip where the shorts fail to cover it, the faint shadow of fingerprints at his waist.

Drew’s eyes go wide. “What the hell is that?”

Nolan and I move at the same time, planting ourselves between Drew and Finn, shoulder to shoulder in the doorway. Nolan’s arm brushes mine as we square up, two defensive backs doing what we’re built to do. Nothing gets through.

“I didn’t tell you that you could come in.” My voice comes out so low that it surprises even me.

Drew’s eyes flick between us, calculating, and then he looks over our shoulders. “Finn, tell them.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Finn’s hand slides onto my shoulder, warm and light, and his other hand lands on Nolan’s. He squeezes gently.

“It’s okay.” His voice is steady, without a trace of the shattered guy who came through this door last night. “I’ve got this.”