But the corny, unoriginal, and unnecessary line left my lips before I even knew what was hitting me. I didn’t need to be wide awake to know I’d regret saying that. That really you or did I wake up in heaven? Forget tonight happened.Ĭovering my face with one arm, I groaned loudly. And I had managed to make the worst first impression in the history of first impressions. The disaster that followed.īut as seconds ticked by and awareness returned, I realized none of that had been a product of my subconscious. When I woke up the following morning-at exactly 6:00 a.m., just like I had done every weekday for the last five years but didn’t need to anymore-I did so with a certain brown-eyed, smile-wearing man in mind.Īnd for a split second, I was sure I’d dreamed it all. Anyway, can I please help you up?” CHAPTER THREE I’m sure this was not how you imagined arriving in New York. “And I’m also so, so very sorry I assumed you were.
“You’re definitely not a burglar!” I blurted out to veer the conversation away from that stupid, stupid finally.
Lucas’s brows drew together, and I felt the tips of my ears grow even warmer. And I’d had time-over a year of it-to come up with dozens of different scenarios. This wasn’t even in the same galaxy of how I’d constructed this moment in my head. This was not how I’d pictured meeting Lucas. Lucas looked up from his position on the floor, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me. What sounded like someone banging a shoulder against the door startled me, making me jump backward. Or maybe whoever was out there would eventually knock and. Maybe it was a neighbor mistaking this as their apartment. The sound stopped, allowing me to release all the air I had been holding in.Īll right. That didn’t change the facts.īecause if living in a couple of questionable neighborhoods in New York had taught me anything, it was that if someone didn’t knock, they weren’t interested in asking to be let in.Įvidence number one: the insistent rattling of the-thankfully locked-entrance door. Technically, it wasn’t my apartment, but rather the apartment I was currently staying in. Someone was trying to break into my apartment.įine. For a slow-burn rom-com featuring an introvert, an extrovert, forced-proximity fake-dating, some undeniable chemistry and a masquerade ball, pick up The American Roommate Experiment CHAPTER ONE
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