C4 I heard

I heard the key fumble and scrape noisily across the lock. It was the sound I called ‘the Drunk Doorbell’ – a sure sign that Shanna was blasted.

It was usually accompanied by ‘the Drunk Disclaimer.’

“Shhhh,” she giggled out in the hallway. “We gotta be quiet cuz I got a roommate…”

Ah, there it was.

“I’m awake,” I called out. “You don’t have to be quiet.”

The lock clicked and the door crashed open, and Shanna stumbled into the room. “Oh, thas’ good…”

I turned around from my desk to look at her. She was cute – not gorgeous, but she had a great smile and knew how to work a push-up bra. And she was very outgoing. I’d had a lot of practice in fending off guys – most of them assholes, some of them charming – but I never, ever flirted with anybody. Shanna didn’t just flirt, she manhandled.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.”

“It’s okay, right?” she asked, her eyes defocused, her body weaving slightly. “I haven’t had a Shanna Night in… awhile… right?”

That’s what we called the ‘one night a week’ arrangements: Shanna Nights.

“No,” I sighed.

“Good,” she giggled, then whispered in a loud voice that the guy would have heard if he were standing at the opposite end of a football field: “Cuz he’s really HOT.”

She looked over her shoulder and giggled at somebody standing outside in the hallway, just beyond my field of vision.

“Come on in an’ meet my roommate!”

Great. I was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, no bra, no makeup. Just how I wanted to look when I met some drunk douchebag.

Actually, I guess it didn’t matter what I looked like when I met a drunk douchebag, since I didn’t give a damn about what he thought.

I checked my cell phone. 11PM.

Huh – early night for her.

“I can go in the study lounge. How about an hour?” I asked.

Judging by how drunk she was, I figured she’d pass out in half that time – but I might as well err on the side of caution.

“I usually make it last longer… but that should be enough,” a deep, male voice suddenly spoke up.

The voice was the first thing that got me: sexy. Masculine. Golden brown with a tinge of smokiness around the edges.

Something inside my stomach fluttered, which was not a reaction I normally had to men’s voices.

Actually, it was not a reaction I ever had to men’s voices.

I looked up and saw the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.

He was tall, about six feet. He had black hair, gorgeous and rumpled and falling just short of his eyebrows. He had a strong jaw, a slight dimple in his chin, and cheekbones to die for. Flawless olive skin and a day or two’s worth of unshaven scruffiness. He had a grey t-shirt with ‘Led Zeppelin’ on the front in faded black letters, like it had been washed a thousand times and given up the fight to stay legible. The shirt was tight over his broad chest, his powerful shoulders, and his bulging biceps. He looked like the kind of guy who had built up muscles by good genes and manual labor rather than sweating it out in a gym.

He had tattoos as well, which I don’t normally like – but they added to the bad boy image in a way that was irresistible. He wore a leather band around one wrist and a couple of rings on his fingers – rings that looked like he’d bought them from a street vendor who made her own stuff. One was pounded silver, with hammer marks all over the metal. Another was a really cool twining pattern of copper strands. Neither was on his left ring finger.

The rings made me look at his hands… and his hands made me think of a master artist carving them from a block of rare wood. They were large and masculine, and looked very… capable. Of anything and everything. Especially naughty things.

His tattered jeans were baggy enough below the knees to be cool, and tight enough over his thighs to make my mouth water. He had on clunky black work boots, scuffed and worn on the toes. A metal wallet chain hung from his battered leather belt and disappeared into his pocket.

The clothes didn’t really do it for me, other than the fact that they showed off his beautiful body to perfection. The rest of him really did it for me… especially his eyes. They were the single most arresting thing about him. Beautiful green, a few shades lighter than emeralds. I had never seen anybody with eyes that gorgeous. I wondered if he had contacts, then decided Probably not. The rest of him suggested ‘not much money,’ so I didn’t see him spending hundreds of dollars on something like colored contacts.

His eyelids stayed partly shut all the time, giving him a perpetual kind of sleepy, sexy, seductive look. Coupled with his dark, brooding eyebrows, he seemed to be thinking, Come over here and kiss me – and the slightly upturned corner of his full, sensual lips made him look amused that I hadn’t given in yet.

As we stared at each other, I felt something pass between us – like an invisible current that flowed through the air. A spark that jumped from him to me and back again. Unseen, unspoken, but definitely real. A connection.

I also felt something else I’d never experienced before with a stranger.

Desire.

Heat building in my cheeks – and elsewhere.

There were probably only about four seconds of silence… but it felt like an eternity as we stared at each other.

I felt it. I’m pretty damn sure he felt it, too.

And then he took it a step further.

“Derek Kane,” he said, stepping forward and offering me that large, masculine hand.

“Kaitlyn Reynolds,” I said, and put my hand in his. His skin was warm, his fingers strong and slightly calloused.

Whatever electricity had been buzzing in the air between us almost exploded when we touched.

He was gentle as he held my hand – but firm. Firm and powerful and strong.

I briefly imagined what his arms around me might feel like, and then guiltily pushed that out of my mind as quickly as I could.

He held onto my hand for a couple of seconds longer than he should have. Only when it was obvious that he was hanging on too long did he finally let go.

There was definitely some serious chemistry going on between us.

Shanna felt it, because she looked back and forth between us like a spectator at Wimbledon.

“Uhhhh, Kaitlyn…?” she whined with a worried look on her face.

“Sorry,” I said, snapping out of my daze and turning around to get my literature book. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Derek leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His very powerful, very muscular arms. “No… we shouldn’t run you off.”

Shanna looked over at him, incredulous. “That wasn’t what you were saying before we walked in here.”

“Oh?” I asked, amused. “What were you saying before you walked in here, exactly?”

Shanna giggled. “That if you didn’t leave, we’d have to fuck right here in front of you.”

POW.

The words went right to my gut – a one/two punch.

One, I immediately thought, Player. A slight wave of disappointment and disgust rose up inside me.

Two, I imagined seeing him naked, standing just a few feet away from my bed… and my disgust quickly disappeared, to be replaced by more… pleasant feelings.

Kevin’s plaintive voice suddenly drifted out of my subconscious:

You’re not attracted to anybody, are you?

I winced.

Now I really had to get out of the room.

“Not necessary,” I said, in as deadpan a voice as I could muster. “I’ll leave.”

Interestingly enough, Derek didn’t smirk or chortle out a ‘bro laugh’ or any other reaction I would have expected. Instead, he threw Shanna an icy look before returning his gaze to me. “I was just joking around. We’re not going to run you out of your room.”