Chapter 3Claimed By My Savior Roommate

The instructor kept yelling at us, but we were standing so rigidly apart you could have driven a Honda Civic between us.

Suddenly, Blair planted her hands on my lower back and shoved me forward.

I collided hard against his chest. Maybe it was his solid muscle, or maybe it was my own momentum, but we actually bounced off each other for a second before his arms came up.

It was a strange, electric sensation. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Despite being with Tyler for a long time, our physical intimacy had been incredibly sparse.

It stemmed from trauma. My mother had gotten pregnant with me out of wedlock before marrying my father, and she spent my entire childhood enduring the subtle, biting contempt of his family. Because of that environment, I grew up with a deep-seated, psychological aversion to letting men touch me.

Tyler had tried, of course. He would put on the tacky lingerie sets he modeled online and parade around the bedroom. But all I could ever think about was how the stitching was uneven, how the structural integrity of the garment failed to support the torso, and how the fabric choice was cheap.

I had worried about frustrating him. I had even quietly resolved to finally sleep with him next month for his birthday, and then...

Thinking about it now, a bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. Tyler wasn't exactly suffering in my absence. He clearly had plenty of other girls keeping his bed warm.

Suddenly, two massive hands gripped my waist. He pulled me flush against his body.

He's so hot. Literally. He felt like a furnace.

Before I could process it, gravity vanished. We plummeted.

I always thought I wasn't afraid of dying. I thought I was cynical enough to accept the end. But as the wind ripped the air from my lungs, every biological instinct screamed, Survive!

Fueled by sheer terror, I locked my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest, clinging to him like if I pressed hard enough, I could fuse my skeleton with his and somehow be safer.

A bungee jump only lasts a few seconds, but when you're in freefall, time dilates into a terrifying eternity.

Every time the cord snapped taut and we rebounded, I felt the heavy thud of his chest and heard a low, muffled groan rumble in his throat. I was mortified, but I was way too terrified to let go.

Realizing he was making noise, he bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle it.

Seeing his lips bruised to a dark, flush red made my face burn even hotter.

When we were finally hauled back up, I had to sit on a nearby bench for ten minutes just to stop my legs from shaking. My jumping partner had vanished the second our boots touched solid ground.

Damn. I should have asked for his Instagram, I thought, a wave of disappointment washing over me.

I slapped both hands against my cheeks. Pull it together, Harper. What the hell is wrong with you today?

A cold bottle of water suddenly appeared in my line of sight.

I traced the arm holding it all the way up to his perfectly sculpted face.

"Thank you," I said softly. I took the water, noticing the cap had already been cracked open for me. I took a small sip, then pressed the condensation-covered plastic against my burning cheek.

It was too hot out here.

"Let me get your Venmo. I'll pay you back for this," I said, mustering my courage. "Everything at these tourist traps is a rip-off."

He froze, looking at me like a deer in headlights, before frantically waving his hands. "No, no, it's not expensive! I can afford it."

His panicked desperation to assure me he wasn't broke was equally endearing and frustrating.

I blinked, then let out a soft laugh.

Sometimes, men used awkwardness as a shield. He clearly knew I was trying to get his contact info and was politely shutting me down. He probably had a girlfriend and didn't want the drama.

Thinking about that, my crush on him deepened a little, even as my heart sank. There were genuinely good men in the world; my mother and I just had the rotten luck of never running into them.

Blair finally came bounding over, looking entirely too pleased with herself as she unzipped her massive backpack.

It was packed with craft beers and heavy snacks. No wonder she had complained about it weighing a ton when I offered to carry it earlier.

"Are we having a picnic, Blair? Seriously?" I asked through gritted teeth.

She ignored my murderous glare and immediately turned her aggressive friendliness onto the guy. "It's way too heavy to hike back down with! Harper, you know how kind I am, I'm just forcing us to drink it to save your back. Come on, handsome, sit with us!"

I fully expected him to make an excuse and leave. Instead, he stood there, genuinely contemplating it, before nodding seriously. "It is too heavy to carry back."

I'm usually a happy drunk. The only problem is that alcohol destroys my verbal filter.

Three beers in, I completely forgot there was a stranger sitting with us. The fresh memory of Tyler's betrayal came crashing down, and the floodgates opened.

I ended up burying my face in Blair's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Blair, is this karma? Did I reject too many guys in college? Was I too mean? Is that why the universe cursed me with a walking red flag the second I graduated?"

Blair patted my back, looking at me with a mix of pity and exasperation. "I told you to be nicer. You could have just strung a few along for the ego boost, like everyone else does! College is supposed to be fun, but you chose to be a nun. Who are you blaming now?"

"Wait. You didn't have a boyfriend in college?"

A deep, quiet voice cut through my tears.

I sniffled, pulling back to look at his face. Through my blurry, tear-filled vision, I gave him a deeply serious answer. "No!"