Hold On - Complete (Parts 1-3)

PART ONE

Chapter 1

Roommate wanted: Must be well hung, able to perform multiple orgasms in a single night, and be completely and utterly gorgeous.

You can’t write that!

My best friend, Lauren, rolls her eyes and looks up from the computer screen. Your version is boring.

I know it is. It’s why I invited her over to help me write the ad. She’s the one that is supposed to be good with words since she’s a journalist. I’m just an underpaid administrative assistant who needs someone to move into the spare bedroom of my apartment so I can afford to keep living by the beach.

Besides, she continues, you need to get laid; it’s been four months, Sarah. Time to get back on the penis. With my ad, you get rent and a steady supply of orgasms. What more could a girl want?

I know she’s teasing me, but the look she’s giving me is deadly serious. I contemplate playing her bluff just to see what she’ll do, but then chicken out because I know she’ll do anything to win a bet.

Just fix mine up to sound better. I don’t want any weirdo’s answering the ad.

Fine, but it’s your loss. Think of all the sleepless nights you could have had. She grins and I can’t help but laugh. We both know that I haven’t slept with anyone since Danny. I’m not like Lauren who can pick up a stranger and take them home for the night. I need a connection. Maybe I should be more like her. Less chance of getting my heart shattered into pieces again.

Let me read it. I glance over her shoulder as her finger hovers over the submit button.

Does it meet your approval, Miss Bennett? She raises her eyebrow mockingly.

When I wrote it, I sounded like a nerdy desperado. She’s changed it to make me sound cool and the apartment to die for. I’d apply if I wasn’t already living here. I nod my head. Send.

~

No, I’m sorry, there are no pets allowed in the building. I groan and press the end button on my phone. Fifteen calls and not one of them I would want to meet in person. Maybe I’m being too fussy? I mean, it’s not too much to ask for people to have a job before they apply to live somewhere is it? Perhaps I should have given the woman who claimed to be a blogger a chance.

I scroll through the list of numbers trying to remember which one was hers when the phone rings again. Please don’t be a freak, I think to myself before I answer.

Hello?

I’m ringing about the room. His voice is deep and breathy, like he’d just been running.

Do you have a job?

Huh?

A job. Income. The ability to pay rent. I’m too annoyed to be polite. Might as well get straight to the questions.

Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t apply if I didn’t.

I audibly breathe out. Good. You’d be surprised how many people who have rung up today don’t.

He laughs and I immediately feel better. Yeah, I can afford rent.

Pets. Do you have any pets?

No. Used to have a dog when I was a kid. But it died.

Oh, I’m sorry. Now I feel bad.

Doesn’t matter, it was a long time ago. So, can I see the place? I’m looking to move somewhere right away.

I pause. I haven’t got this far with anyone yet and suddenly I’m not sure that I’m ready to meet a complete stranger, let alone live with someone new.

Hello? Are you still there? I’ve got references.

Yes. Yes, okay. I give him the address.

I’m near there now. Be around in ten.

He hangs up before I can respond. Ten? As in ten minutes? I look around the apartment and jolt upright. Quickly I rush around tidying up, straightening cushions, and fluffing towels. I realize I didn’t get his name or give him mine. Suddenly I’m reminded of Lauren and her one night stands when she doesn’t bother to find out guys names before she takes them home and has sex.

I stop in the middle of the room and take a breath. It’s no big deal. If I don’t like him, then I can say no. I have the power here.

The engine of a motorcycle revs outside and I walk over and look down to the street. It’s him, I know it is. He parks the bike and takes off his helmet. He has short dark hair, tanned skin and is completely and utterly gorgeous. For a split second, I wonder if Lauren has sent in her version of the roommate ad after all, but then shake my head.

He looks up at the building and I pull back so he doesn’t see me. When I’m sure he’s no longer looking I take a peek back down and sure enough he’s gone inside the building. I take in the shiny black motorcycle he was riding and wonder what it would feel like to ride something that fast. Maybe if he’s suitable as a roommate he’ll teach me. I realize I’m getting ahead of myself when I hear the door buzzer ring and spin around to let him in.

Hey, he says casually. Nice location.

I nod my head. The building is directly opposite the beach. Only six different apartments in this complex and mine is on the top floor. I step back so he can come inside, taking the time to scan him up and down as he walks past me and into the living area. You said you had references?

He turns to me and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. It’s warm from being close to his body and I unfold it and stare at it even though the words aren’t registering in my brain. I need to focus.

This is the bedroom? He’s walking towards mine and I have to move fast to cut him off.

That’s mine. This is the one that’s available. I turn and point to the door on the opposite side of the apartment. It’s got a better view, and while it doesn’t have an ensuite like mine does, I rarely use the main bathroom, so that would be all yours.

I pretend to read his references again as he heads toward the spare bedroom. He stands in the doorway and surveys the empty room. I’ll need a bed.

Yes, it’s unfurnished.

He spins back to me. What was your name?

Sarah. Sarah Bennett. And you are?

It’s on the top of the paper you’re holding. He’s looking at me like I’m stupid for asking.

I glance down. Ethan Collier. I’ll need to get the references checked.

No problem.

You said you had a job? I frame the statement as a question.

Construction. I move around a bit, but right now I’m working over at the Westwood Enterprises building. New wing. A builder. That’s obviously where he gets his rock hard body from.

There will be no loud parties, if you make a mess you’ll need to clean up after yourself, and I expect rent to be paid on time - I don’t do extensions.

Yeah? What do you do then? He’s grinning at me, and I suck in a quick breath at the way he’s making me feel. Before I can respond, he leans in closer. I’ll take it. If you’ll have me.

I know he’s talking about the room, but the way he says it makes it sound like he’s hitting on me. Or maybe I’m just so out of touch that I’ve forgotten how guys talk anymore. I haven’t been single for five years, and certainly haven’t been hit on for about as long. I think my perspective is warped.

Besides, if I let him move in, that means he’s off limits. I can’t think about him in any other way except as someone who pays half the rent. If there is a cardinal rule that even Lauren would agree with, it’s that you don’t get involved with someone you live with. Too complicated.

I make my decision. I know I’ll probably regret letting someone this gorgeous move in, but why not? It’s the first time I’ve felt like I’m alive again since Danny left. If having this eye candy around helps me get back into the dating game and see guys as potential love interests again, then Ethan Collier might be just the medicine the doctor ordered. I walk over to him, extend my hand and smile. Ethan, when can you move in?

He takes my hand and I feel the rough builder’s skin against mine. How ‘bout now.

Chapter 2

What the fuck, Sarah? Lauren is breathing heavily into the phone. Do you know who you are living with?

Ethan Collier. I repeat his name even though I’ve already told her a bunch of times.

I checked his references. She sounds smug, like she knows something I don’t.

And?

And, he’s not the type of guy you’d want to be around. Maybe I would, but he’s too hardcore for you.

I don’t know what she means by hardcore, but I’m insulted that she thinks I can’t look after myself. I may have been a mess after Danny, but that’s over now. I’m ready to move on. I’m stronger than she gives me credit for. You were the one that insisted I get someone in. And you suggested I get someone hot, too. It’s not like I’m dating him. He’s paying rent, that’s all.

Jeezus fucking Louise, he’s been in prison, you know.

So. That definitely wasn’t on his references. I pretend the announcement doesn’t rattle me, even though it does. What for?

Armed robbery.

I go quiet. I don’t know how to process this information right now.

Do you want me to come over? Her voice has softened and I know she’s worried about me.

I take a deep breath. No, I’m fine. We both know I’m not.

Call me if he does anything assholish. I’ll get him out of your life faster than you can blink. I’ve got connections, you know. Her connections are the newspaper she works for and the few police officers she’s slept with. Still, it’s comforting to know she has my back.

We say goodbye and I hang up.

I’m still at work and I stare at the computer screen wondering what I should do. I can’t get Ethan’s past out of my mind now that I know about it. He’s been polite so far, but I’ve barely seen him since he moved in yesterday. I figured it was because he needed to get furniture, but now I’m not sure. He did say he wanted to cook me dinner tonight, to celebrate our new living arrangement.

I jumped too fast and got swayed by his good looks and charm. All I can think about is that I’m living with a dangerous ex con, yet I’m surprised I’m not more worried. I should be ringing the police and getting him out of my spare room, but instead the idea that he has danger in his past has made him even more exciting. This is not good.

I decide I’m going to bring it up with him tonight when we both get home from work, although I’m not sure how I’m going to approach the subject yet. He did say I could check his references though, what did he expect? Oh hey, Ethan, by the way, I found out you’re an ex con with a history of stealing money. Pass the carrots, please.

~

I checked your references. I say it casually like I haven’t been rehearsing the line over and over in my head all day.

His forehead furrows and I can tell that he knows I’ve found out about his past. So you know I was in prison. It was a long time ago; I’m not that person anymore. He continues to stir the soup he’s making as I lean on the counter.

You’re not the same person?

He winces at the words and shakes his head. I got involved with a bad crowd. I was young and stupid, and did things I wish I could take back. He’s deliberately not looking at me, like he wants me to drop it, but I can’t.

This is serious. I can’t brush this off.

He turns and finally looks at me. I can see pain and regret in his eyes. Do you want me to move out? Is that what you want?

No. The answer surprises both of us. But I deserve to know who I’m living with. That’s only fair.

He nods slightly and tips his head to the side. That’s only fair, he repeats. Okay.

He still hasn’t answered my questions and I try not to get frustrated. Okay?

Yes. Okay, I’ll tell you about my past. But let’s eat first, I’m hungry.

I’m not satisfied with his answer but there’s nothing I can do as he fetches two bowls and ladles the soup he’s made into them. He places them on the dining table and adds crusty bread and soft butter.

I keep my gaze fixed to the soup to avoid looking at him. We eat in awkward silence, neither of us willing to start talking first. It’s like a bad first date, except that I’ll have to see him again every day and walk past his gorgeous face and muscle ripped body. Not that how he looks is important right now, and I’m annoyed at myself for even thinking about that at a time like this.

He’s finished first, his spoon resting in the bowl. I can hear his breathing, slow and deep, as he waits for me to finish. I’m deliberately taking my time even though the soup is delicious. He can definitely cook. I wonder if he learned that in prison.

Finally I lift my gaze and meet his eyes. He’s watching me carefully, his arms folded gently on the table. Thank you for not asking me to leave.

Are you dangerous? It’s the one question I really want the answer to.

A smile creeps onto his lips. Not to most people. Certainly, not to you.

I frown. What does that mean?

Sarah, there is no question I can look after myself. I know how to fight. My gaze travels over his strong chest and arms and I don’t doubt he’s telling the truth. But I don’t hurt innocents; I never have and never will. His voice is calm and I immediately feel at ease.

Tell me about the robbery. The reason you went to jail.

He breathes out with an audible sigh. Five years ago I was in a motorcycle club. They were a bad lot, thugs and criminals mostly. I was young and caught up in the excitement of belonging to a group, not seeing them for who they really were. He pushes his bowl aside. The leader was obsessed with accumulating as much money as possible, although what he needed it for I never knew or cared about.

So they decided to hold up a bank?

He laughs. A bank? You know the security in those places? No, we hit a small convenience store.

Did anyone get hurt?

Are you asking if we killed anyone? He leans in closer. No. It was a quick, easy, in and out job. No cameras, no security. His thumb grazes over the back my hand, distracting me and I wonder if that’s part of his charm. I’ve never killed anyone and don’t plan on ever changing that.

I pull my hand away. I don’t need him confusing me right now. How did you get caught?

I walked into the cop station and made a full confession. They arrested me on the spot.

I reel at the admission that he gave himself up, that wasn’t what I expected at all.

He leans back in the chair. I did a few months, paid my dues. That was all five years ago. He looks away and stares into the corner of the room, not really focusing at anything. Haven’t been in trouble since, and don’t plan to.

Okay. Thanks for telling me.

He returns his gaze to me and I can feel my heart pounding at the intensity of his stare. So are we good?

I manage to break out a smile. Yes. We’re good.

Chapter 3

You’re still living with him. Are you nuts? Lauren is stirring her coffee a little too fast.

I wave my hand like it’s no big deal. It was a long time ago, he’s not like that anymore. People can change. I look around the coffee shop where I’ve met Lauren for lunch. It’s crowded today and we were lucky to get our favorite booth in the far corner.

She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. You like him. She groans. You want to fuck him, don’t you?

A couple at the table nearest us glances over but then quickly looks away. Don’t speak so loudly. I take a bite of my sandwich while I think about how to respond to her question. I know she won’t give up grilling me until I give her a satisfactory answer. "As a matter of