Chapter One:
I hate Mondays.
In the next room, Boyd was screwing some chick. It was my day off and I wanted to sleep in. Was that concept so foreign to my dumbass roomies? I staggered out of bed and wandered down the hall toward Boyd's room. I threw the door open, ignoring the fact that I was only wearing boxers and socks. The chick was writhing on top of Boyd, whose head shot up from the mattress in bewilderment.
"Danny!" he howled, face contorted in anger. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted back, slamming his door behind me. I heard his whore giggling as I sauntered down the hall. Isaac, roommate number two, was sitting on the couch, nose buried in a book, headphones secured over his ears. I kicked him playfully and he sent me a glare. Roommate number three, Jackson, was shoving my plates into a box labeled "Jackson's Shit."
"What are you doing?" I asked, voice hoarse.
"Getting my stuff packed," he sighed, sarcastic blue eyes sizing me up. "Put on some damn pants, Danny. You look like an idiot."
"The great thing about having all male roommates is that I can walk around in the buff without blushing." I grinned at Jackson and moved by him to the fridge. I pulled out the orange juice and choked back a swig. "Good riddance, man. You were always too uptight for this bunch."
"Too uptight?" he laughed. "And Isaac isn't uptight? That asshole does nothing but read and flirt with your little sister when she comes over to gnaw your ear." Jackson smirked when anger filled my eyes.
"Shut up," Isaac called from the living room. "That's not true."
Jackson laughed and continued to pack away the plates. He was too short to reach the top shelf, but hell if I would help the shrimp. Instead, I grabbed a Pop-Tart and went into the living room.
"When is your friend coming over to look at the apartment?" I sat across from Isaac and munched my cinnamon Pop-Tart. He glanced up at me with frustrated hazel eyes. Hair fell in his eyes. His eyebrow piercing gleamed as his head turned.
"Put some pants on, Danny," he grumbled, eyes refocusing on his book.
"No thanks, man." I grinned broadly at the oddball. A knock sounded through the apartment. "Ah, sounds like he's here now." I hopped up and opened the door, a breeze tickling my junk as the door flew back. Standing on our porch was a dude – tall as me with navy blue eyes and broad, muscled shoulders. He looked like a football player and I instantly smiled.
He looked startled that I was so scantily clad.
"Hey…uh… I'm Ethan."