My breath catches in my chest as my heart begins to race. God, one look at this man and he’s got me feeling woozy.
“Dylan, meet our other roommate, Killian,” Noah says. “Killian, this is our new roommate, Dylan.”
Killian’s piercing blue eyes rake over me. “Wow, this is the smoking hot roommate you were talking about?”
I almost faint as I notice his Irish accent.
Jayden grins. “She’s pretty fucking cute.”
I cross my arms. “I’m standing right here. And I’m not just some piece of groupie meat.”
Killian smirks. “We’ve heard. You’re a hooker.”
My jaw drops. What an asshole. I narrow my eyes, heat rising to my cheeks. He might be gorgeous, but he’s already getting on my last nerve. “Excuse me? No one would ever talk that way to a male athlete.”
“Relax, newbie. I’m just messing with you,” he says with a chuckle.
I’m fuming. I know I should be used to this crap, but it still grinds my gears. Of course a man who looks like a Greek god would have a glaring flaw—misogynistic tendencies.
But I’m not going to let some cocky jerk rattle me. I came here to prove myself on the field, not take shit from arrogant men.
I lift my chin and stare him down. “Don’t underestimate me. I might surprise you.”
“Well, that’s fine with me. I love surprises.” He winks, and the teasing sparkle in his eye only serves to infuriate me.
The way he tilts his head causes the overhead light to glint off his chiseled jaw, leaving him looking more than perfect. I bet he practices his angles in the mirror, the handsome son of a bitch.
My mouth goes dry. Come on, get it together! I force a relaxed smile, hoping he doesn’t notice the hitch in my breath.
“So you really are the famous new roommate?” His gaze sweeps over me, and damn if that smirk doesn’t make my knees weak. “I didn’t know whether to believe the boys when they said a hot chick was moving in. I was thinking they were pulling a prank on me, and you were going to be some dude with a broken nose and half his teeth missing.”
I lift my chin, my cheeks flushing at the way the other guys have clearly described me to this god. “Well, here I am, in the flesh.” I gesture down at myself breezily, like I’m not hyperaware of his eyes tracing my body. “Not a myth, just a girl standing in front of her roommates...” I bite my lip, holding back a grin. “Asking them not to make it weird.”
Killian laughs, a rich sound that does nothing to calm my racing pulse. “No promises there.” He leans against the doorframe, all casual grace and barely leashed power. “But we’ll try to behave.”
His smile promises the opposite. I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever game he wants to play.
I take a deep breath to steady myself as Killian saunters into the kitchen. Noah trails behind, and Jayden pushes himself up off the couch to join us. It’s our first time all together in one room. I’m not sure what I expected, but the undercurrent of electricity sparking between us takes me by surprise.
Noah catches my eye, offering an easy grin. “Welcome to the madhouse, Dylan. Make yourself at home.”
I smile back gratefully. At least someone is trying to be somewhat normal here.
Jayden rummages through the fridge, emerging with a diet soda. He pops the tab, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Yeah, mi casa es su casa. Within reason.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Clothes mandatory in shared spaces.”
I laugh, hoping it sounds more nonchalant than I feel. “Duly noted. I’ll keep the streaking to a minimum.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Killian’s gaze drop appreciatively down my body. “That’s a shame,” he says, his voice like velvet. “I was looking forward to the free show.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I resist the urge to fan myself. Get it together, Dylan.
I straighten and meet his eyes, arching an eyebrow. “Careful what you wish for.”
His lips curve. “I can handle anything you want to show me, sweetheart.”
Oh boy. These three are going to be trouble, I can tell. I clear my throat, trying desperately to steer this runaway train back to solid ground.
“So!” My voice comes out too loud. I wince. “What’s the plan for dinner? How do meals work around here? I was picturing lots of salads and brown rice, but based on the contents of the fridge and the coffee table,” I point at the mess in the living room, “it looks like you’ve expanded your culinary horizons more than the typical professional athlete.”