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Cocky Roommate
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Cocky Roommate
Claire Kingsley
Contents
Also by Claire Kingsley
1. Kendra
2. Weston
3. Kendra
4. Weston
5. Kendra
6. Weston
7. Kendra
8. Weston
9. Weston
10. Kendra
11. Weston
12. Kendra
13. Weston
14. Weston
15. Kendra
16. Weston
17. Kendra
18. Kendra
19. Weston
20. Kendra
21. Weston
22. Weston
23. Kendra
24. Weston
25. Weston
26. Weston
27. Kendra
28. Weston
29. Kendra
30. Weston
31. Kendra
32. Kendra
33. Epilogue: Weston
Always Have: Chapter 1
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2017 Claire Kingsley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, or incidents are products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental or fictionalized.
Edited by Elayne Morgan of Serenity Editing Services
Cover by Wicked Good Book Covers
www.clairekingsleybooks.com
Created with Vellum
To my first roommate, who was not cocky, and will probably never read this, but was still the absolute shit.
Also by Claire Kingsley
Book Boyfriend
Cocky Roommate
Hot Single Dad ~ coming soon
Bad Boy Romance ~ The Always Series
Always Have (Braxton and Kylie)
Always Will (Selene and Ronan)
Always Ever After: A Short Story
The Jetty Beach Romance Series
Must Be Love (Nicole and Ryan)
Must Be Crazy (Melissa and Jackson)
Must Be Fate (Cody and Clover)
Must Be Home (Hunter and Emma)
The Back to Jetty Beach Romance Series
Could Be Forever (Finn and Juliet)
Could Be the One (Lucas and Becca)
Could Be the Reason (Gabe and Sadie)
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1
Kendra
The early morning sun glints off the hood of my car and I adjust my sunglasses. It’s a gorgeous day for a drive, which is good because I have a long one. It’s been a great weekend away, although technically it was a splurge I can’t afford. But I couldn’t afford not to go. Not when I’m just striking out on my own.
My phone dings with a text and I swipe the screen. It’s from my brother Alex’s fiancée, Mia.
Mia: K-Law! Are you home yet?
I giggle at her nickname for me. My last name is Lawson, and Mia cracked herself up for five solid minutes when she first thought of it. I picture her laughing as she typed it just now. Since she started dating my brother, Mia has become one of my best friends. She’s a little awkward, but once you get to know her, she’s hilarious and super sweet. Alex did good.
I tap the screen to call her back. She hates phone calls, but I’m not going to text and drive. Plus, I’m bored and I still have another hour on the road. She better answer.
It rings once. Twice. Come on, Mia. It’s a phone, it isn’t going to bite you. Three times.
“Kendra, why are you calling me? You know I don’t use my phone for that.”
I laugh. “Mi, I’m driving. I can’t text you back.”
She groans. “Fine. How was your weekend?”
“It was good,” I say. “I made some really good contacts.”
“That’s great,” she says. “Pick up any new clients?”
“No firm commitments,” I say. “But I got a lot of names and contact information. It helps that I can say I’m Lexi Logan’s editor.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Alex secretly writes romance novels under the pseudonym Lexi Logan. I helped him get his books off the ground, and I’ve always been his editor. For a while, I was the only one who knew about it. Now, Team Lexi consists of me, Mia, and our brother, Caleb. Most people think Alex is a consultant who works from home.
I’ve worked as an editor since I graduated college with an English degree. My last job had me working primarily on non-fiction for a small press. I decided I couldn’t stand the thought of editing yet another self-help book. So I quit.
It wasn’t a decision I took lightly, and it was a long time coming. My boss was a jerk and honestly, who has time for that? I’m not getting any younger, and I decided it was time to take control of my life.
My brothers both gave me an earful when I told them. Alex wanted to know how much money I had in savings (not much). Caleb wanted to know if I had a business plan (not really). All I know is that I love editing fiction, and it’s time to take a chance and do what I love.
Hence my weekend away. I went to a writer’s conference in Portland, about four hours from home. It wasn’t cheap, especially because I had to pay for three nights in a hotel. But it gave me the chance to meet tons of authors and get my name out there. I really need more clients—fast. My clout as Lexi’s editor helps, but a reputation doesn’t pay the bills.
“What’s up with the roommate situation?” Mia asks. “What happened to that one girl who answered your Craigslist ad?”
Getting a roommate is on my list of things to do to make this work.
“Which one?” I ask. “The tarot card reader who wanted to set up her psychic services business in my living room? The college student who asked if I’d be okay with leaving the house on Friday nights so she can throw parties? Oh, or the chain smoker?”
“That’s what you have to choose from?” she asks.
“Pretty much. Luckily, I found someone else.”
“You did? Who is she?”
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know much about her yet,” I say. “It was a really last minute thing, but she’s someone Caleb knows. I don’t know the details. He called me on Friday, right as I was about to go into my first session at the conference. He said one of his colleagues was looking for a place to stay, temporarily. Probably just for a few months, but needs to move in right away. I figure, if Caleb suggested her, how bad can she be, right?”
“True,” Mia says. “Sounds awesome.”
“Yeah, I think it will be,” I say. “It’s a little weird, but what’s the worst that can happen? It won’t be for long, and that will give me a chance to find someone who’ll stay longer. Or maybe my new freelance career will take off and I won’t need a roommate anymore.”
“That would be great,” Mia says. “Speaking of, I’m telling all the authors I know about you. So hopefully a few of them are looking for a new editor.”
“Thanks, Mi, I really appreciate that,” I say. Mia is a popular romance book blogger and she has a lot of contacts.
“Of course,” she says. “So when does she move in?”
“I think she’s already there,” I say.
“Wow,” she says. “You’re braver than I am. I don’t think I could agree to live with someone sight unseen.”
�
��Yeah, but if Caleb knows her, I’m sure it’s fine,” I say. “Who knows, maybe Caleb has a thing for this girl. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh my god, I would die of happiness,” she says. “Caleb really needs someone in his life. As long as she’s awesome.”
“Well this will give me the chance to find out,” I say. “It’s perfect.”
“So perfect,” she says. “You have to tell me everything about her.”
“Obviously.”
“Okay, you’ve used up my phone call quota for like the entire week.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “I’m about an hour out and I think I need a nap when I get home. I got up at like five so I could get on the road early.”
“Yuck,” she says. “Okay, text me and tell me what she’s like.”
“I will.”
I turn up the music after I hang up with Mia. I’m getting a little drowsy and I don’t want to stop before I get home. I stayed last night so I could attend one last informal meet and greet in the hotel bar, but that meant I had to get up early to get back. It’s Monday, and I have an edit due tomorrow. It’s one of my first new clients, and the last thing I want to do is a blow a deadline.
An hour later, I’m pulling up to my house. I have a little two-bedroom cottage style house near Sand Point. It’s not very big, but I don’t need a lot of space. It was built in 1910, so it has all these amazing details. Little storage cupboards, beautiful molding, original hardwoods. It’s a bit creaky, and the list of things I need to fix or replace keeps growing. But I love my little house.
There’s a sleek, black Mercedes in the driveway. Wow. I don’t know much about cars, but I’m sure that’s not cheap. Caleb is a surgeon; maybe my new roommate is a fellow doctor. That could explain the nice car. In any case, what she drives doesn’t matter. And maybe if she likes nice things, she won’t be a messy person.
I grab my bag out of the back and head inside, careful not to make too much noise. It’s still early. I have no idea when she works. If she has a schedule anything like Caleb’s, she could work all sorts of crazy hours. I don’t want to wake her if she’s sleeping.
By the time I set my bag down and head for the kitchen, I’m already rethinking my nap plan. What this day really calls for is coffee so I can power through. I’ll just go to bed early to make up for it. I have a lot of work to do.
The floor creaks behind me and I turn, gasping.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “You startled me.”
A woman with bleached blond hair and huge boobs stares at me with her mouth open. I guess I startled her too.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. “I’m Kendra. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m Lana,” she says, her eyebrows drawing down, like she’s confused.
“That’s a pretty name,” I say. “I couldn’t remember if Caleb gave me your name or not. Which is weird, I know, but I had to get off the phone, so I cut him off. This whole roommate thing happened so fast.”
“Oh,” she says, her face brightening. “Roommate.”
“Yeah.” I glance around because I’m not quite sure what she means. Who else would I be? “Anyway, I’m making coffee. I got up so early and I think this is the only way I’m going to get anything done today. Can I make you some?’
“Sure,” she says. “That sounds great. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night either.”
“That’s too bad.” I pour some grounds into the coffee maker. “The house is kind of noisy. It creaks, but you’ll get used to it. I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“Hmm.” She sits down at my small kitchen table.
I get out two mugs and lean against the counter while the coffee brews. I try to be cool about it, but I’m totally scoping her out. Her long manicured nails are painted pink. She’s wearing a white crop top with shiny red lips on the front, and a pair of high-waisted skinny jeans. I glance at her feet—bright red stilettos. It’s a weird outfit for early morning. It looks more like a going-out kind of thing, but maybe she’s just not into comfy clothes.
The coffee finishes brewing and I pour us each a cup. “Cream and sugar?”
“Yes, lots of both,” she says.
I add sugar and cream and hand her the mug, then take the seat across from her.
I’m having a really hard time picturing her with Caleb. Even if they’re not a thing yet, would he really be interested in her? Her makeup is a little smudged and faded, like she slept in it, but she’s still wearing a lot. Blond hair bleached even lighter, judging by her roots. She flicks a manicured finger across her phone screen, one leg crossed, her foot bobbing up and down as if she’s listening to music. She just doesn’t seem like Caleb’s type.
Not that I really know what Caleb’s type is. My brother got married young, when he was still in med school, but unfortunately his wife died in a car accident a few months after their daughter, Charlotte, was born. That was five years ago, and recently my brother and my niece moved back to Seattle from Houston to be closer to family.
Maybe Caleb’s isn’t into this girl, because he’s really careful about who he lets into Charlotte’s life. I don’t see this Lana chick as being meet the daughter material.
But what do I know. And I’m being awfully judgey, now that I think about it. I hate that I keep thinking bimbo when I look at her. For all I know, she could be crazy smart and just has mildly slutty fashion taste. Caleb said colleague, so she must work at the hospital.
“So what do you do, Lana?” I ask.
“I work at Cowgirls, Inc.,” she says. “It’s a bar downtown.”
I blink at her. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” That’s so weird. How does working at a bar make her Caleb’s colleague? “Are you a bartender?”
“No, dancer,” she says.
I have no idea what to even say to that. Does she mean stripper? But I don’t think Cowgirls, Inc. is a strip club. “Oh, really? Um, what’s that like?”
“Oh, it’s fun,” she says. “I do mostly bar top stuff, and it’s good because I earn tips, but they can’t touch. And I keep some of my clothes on. It’s totally classy.”
She seems very pleased with herself. This is one of the strangest conversations I’ve had in a long time. Where did Caleb meet her? I didn’t think he hung out at bars, like, ever. He’s been having so much trouble finding a good nanny to take care of Charlotte while he works, I can’t imagine he has time to go out to bars.
I open my mouth to ask how she met my brother when the back bedroom door opens and someone comes down the hallway. My heart jumps and I realize I’m staring—but I can’t help it.
A tall man with an utterly exquisite body walks out wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. Sleepy eyes blink a few times and he yawns. He has a strong, chiseled jaw and full lips. Piercing gray eyes. My eyes drift down his broad chest, across a set of rippling abs that belong on a book cover, to the bulge in his underwear.
I rip my eyes away and force myself to look at his face, feeling my cheeks flush. I just looked at his dick, and I can tell by the look on his face that he knows it.
Shit, I’m ogling my brand-new roommate’s boyfriend.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t realize you had someone over. I mean, it’s fine, of course. I just wasn’t expecting…”
I trail off because I can’t think of anything else to say while I stare at this hot piece of man candy standing in my house. Damn it, why does my roommate have to have such a hot guy? This could get awkward.
I start to talk again, but so does he. We both stop and my phone chooses that moment to ring. “Sorry, let me just check.” I grab it and look at the name. Caleb. “It’s my brother. Excuse me for a minute.” Hopefully Caleb will help me make sense of this weird situation.
2
Weston
The smell of coffee wakes me up.
I stretch and glance over my shoulder at the other side of the bed. Empty. That’s good. The last thing I need is Laura wanting to make morning convers
ation. I probably could have fucked her once more for the road, but I’m not really a morning sex kind of guy. Probably because I almost never let girls stay over. I’ll chalk last night up to laziness. I was falling asleep after I banged her the second time, so I didn’t bother telling her to have a good one. She fell asleep next to me, and I let it go, the voice in the back of my head telling me I’d probably regret it in the morning.
Do I regret it? Depends on how long it takes to get rid of her, I guess.
But why the hell do I smell coffee?
That thought wakes me up a little more and I stretch again. She isn’t out there making us coffee, is she? There is no fucking way I’m going to sit and chat over a mug of joe with Linda. Or was it Lena? Fuck if I can remember, and it’s not like it matters anyway.
The floor in the other room creaks, like someone is walking around. This house isn’t all Caleb made it out to be. When he told me his sister Kendra was looking for a roommate, he said she lived in a charming craftsman style house in Sand Point. Maybe my definition of charming is different than his, but this place is practically falling apart. The floors creak, it’s drafty as hell, it gets freezing at night. Kendra needs to do some serious work on it.
But I guess I won’t be living here long anyway. It’s just temporary while my house is being remodeled. The scope of work kept getting bigger, and there have been so many delays. I’ve been living in hotels for weeks now, and that was getting old. When I complained to Caleb that I needed a new living situation, pronto, he mentioned Kendra. Apparently she’s been looking for a roommate and striking out with weirdos answering her ad. He called her, right then and there, and she said I could move in the next day. Seemed like the perfect setup.
Caleb met me here Saturday morning to help me move my stuff, but Kendra wasn’t here. Out of town for the weekend or something. The place is small, and there’s only one bathroom. But I got my shit settled well enough, and it was nice having the place to myself for a while. Gave me a chance to get comfortable without worrying about some girl.