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Alex doesn’t do complications, especially not the kind that come with a smoking hot, cocky, openly bi roommate who sleeps shirtless and looks like temptation personified. He’s straight and he has a girlfriend and sharing a dorm room with Seth Carter was never supposed to mean sharing anything else. But when one drunken mistake turns into an unforgettable night, the boundaries blur fast. Now Alex can’t stop thinking about the way Seth looks at him or the way he felt when Seth touched him like no one else ever has. Seth isn’t asking Alex to figure it all out. But he’s not about to play dirty little secret, either. And the more Alex tries to run from the truth, the more it hunts him down.
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More Than Roommates Chapter 120: finale?
Alex~I get to the arena too early.The building looks smaller from the outside than it does on TV, a squat concrete thing with banners taped crooked along the entrance and students milling around in clusters.I walk in with my hands in my jacket pockets and my shoulders loose.Inside, it smells like popcorn and rubber soles and there is a faint electric buzz that never quite goes away in places meant for crowds. I find my seat halfway up the bleachers, close enough to see faces but far enough back that I can take the whole court in at once.The floor gleams. The lights are aggressive. Music pulses through the speakers in short bursts, hype stitched together from bass and shouting.I text Seth even though I know he won’t see it yet.I’m here.Three dots appear almost immediately, then disappear, then come back.Good. Don’t leave.I smile to myself and tuck my phone away.People trickle in around me. A couple holding hands, a group of freshmen wearing matching hoodies, someone settles
آخر تحديث : 2025-12-31More Than Roommates Chapter 119
Alex~ I clock in at twelve forty-eight, two minutes early, because I like the feeling of being ahead of something even when nothing else in my life feels like it’s waiting for me. Jamie is already there, perched sideways on the edge of the big table like the room belongs to them, laptop open, coffee sweating through the paper cup and leaving rings on the wood. The space smells like dust and citrus cleaner, the kind they use when they want a place to feel productive instead of loved. The windows are cracked open just enough to let the afternoon in, that half-warm, half-bored light that makes everything look unfinished. Maya swivels in her chair when she sees me. “You’re early,” she says. “I woke up early,” I tell her, which isn’t a lie, just not the reason. She hums, already turning back to her screen. Maya always does acknowledging you without making it a thing and I swear it’s a talent. Jamie, on the other hand, looks up like they’re about to read me aloud. “How is t
آخر تحديث : 2025-12-31More Than Roommates Chapter 118
Seth~ I wake up already late for something. Alex is still in bed beside me, the sheets kicked halfway down, his shirt twisted around his ribs. He’s on his side, facing me, eyes closed but not deeply asleep. I can tell by the way his fingers keep flexing against the pillow, like he’s counting breaths. I don’t move right away. There’s a version of my life now where mornings feel borrowed, like I’m always leaving something behind even when I’m still in the room. I don’t want to rush this one. Not when he’s here. Not when the day hasn’t asked anything of us yet. The light is different this late. Sharper. It cuts across his face instead of spilling gently over it, catching on his lashes, the line of his mouth. He looks older like this. More settled. Not softer—Alex has never been soft—but anchored in himself in a way I don’t remember from earlier in the year. I wonder when that happened. Maybe I was too busy looking outward to notice. I reach out, brush my thumb
آخر تحديث : 2025-12-31More Than Roommates Chapter 117
Alex~ The sheets are still warm when we crawl back into them. The curtains are half drawn. Afternoon light spills in sideways, catching dust in the air, striping Seth’s bare shoulder, my arm, the wall. By this time the campus is fairly active that we can hear activities going on. A skateboard cracking against concrete, a car door slamming somewhere too far to matter, voices of people. Seth lies on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched toward me. His hair is still damp from the shower he took after breakfast, darker at the ends. I watch the slow rise of his back, the way his breathing evens out only when he’s really relaxed, when he’s not thinking about drills or meetings or the shape of the next week. I slide closer, my knee fitting into the space behind his thigh like it belongs there. My hand finds the line of his spine, traces down, stops at the waistband of his shorts. He hums, low and content, without opening his eyes. “You’re heavy,” he
آخر تحديث : 2025-12-31
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