The Drummer's Roommate

Chapter 2

"It won't happen again. I promise. Thea, come back home. Where are you?"

Thea stared at the text message from her boyfriend—Correction: cheating ex-boyfriend, Alec.

"She didn't mean anything. I love you."

She ground her teeth and clenched the phone in her hand.

It did not help matters that her family messaged her, "Where are you? Alec is worried. Forgive him, Thea. He made a mistake. We are all human. You two are perfect together."

Perfect together? Was she just supposed to accept him cheating on her because they were both from the same world? Dating in the deaf community—it was a smaller pool. But because she spoke a language that was rarer in the city than others, that was supposed to mean she should accept less love? Hell. No.

There have to be other deaf men in L.A. I haven't met yet. Or maybe hearing men who knew sign language. The possibilities are endless, she told herself as she turned her phone screen to black. You don't need him to not be alone.

She had friends. She had a pressing new need to find a job. More important things are happening than men.

At that moment, while she and Mallory stood outside the apartment, the door swung open to reveal Draven Maxwell: Aka, the most attractive man in California.

God. Damn.

Thea gripped her notepad harder as it threatened to slip right out of her fingers like buttered noodles instead of dry paper. She deserved a gold medal for her self-control in not letting her jaw drop at the sight of him. She had just never been this close before.

Slicked back, shoulder-length black hair flowed out in wisps to frame his face. Prominent, sharp cheekbones cast sinful shadows over his lickable jawline. Tattoos wrapped around his forearms, the ink stretching over veined, thick muscle.

He reminded her of a dark, villainous elven fae—beauty that felt otherworldly.

Every bit of dark clothing he wore stretched over muscle. Black, fitted jeans strained to encase strong thighs.

His black sleeveless shirt dipped at the sides and showed...so much skin. Like so much skin. Smooth, tan skin. If he turned to the side and bent over, his entire toned chest and abdomen would be on display through the gaping fabric.

She had seen the all-consuming sight of his abs before—when he threw his shirt off during most of his band's shows.

He played drums, shirtless and sweaty, and thrust those arms, muscles bulging and straining as he slammed his drumsticks down again and again. An endurance and talent that made a woman think about all other contexts where a man could use such a constant rhythm.

But more than anything, his eyes made her heart beat harder in her chest. Those slanted green eyes, narrowed in that sexy fox-like kind of way, always made it seem like he was thinking something indecent. Something shamelessly dirty.

Bright green irises, like Peter Pan's tights. A wicked smile that whispered of sin and sex and more sex. He was the human version of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Sly and charming and dangerous. And all you want to do is pet him.

"Unbelievably attractive male seeking roommate" was right. Thea couldn't even judge him for writing that in the ad. She thought to herself, If I looked like him, I'd be a narcissist too.

Her chin tipped up just to gaze at him. The man was the kind of tall that led to a lot of head injuries and many smitten women.

His sparkling chartreuse-green eyes examined Thea as hers did to him. His gaze paused at her pearl necklace, and he glanced down to where her skirt hit her knees—a professional length.