More than Roommates Read online




  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Newsletter

  Ethan

  Mia

  More than Friends

  About the Author

  More than Roommates

  Jillian Quinn

  Contents

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  Newsletter

  1. Ethan

  2. Mia

  3. Ethan

  4. Mia

  5. Ethan

  6. Mia

  7. Mia

  8. Ethan

  9. Mia

  10. Ethan

  11. Mia

  12. Mia

  13. Mia

  14. Ethan

  15. Mia

  16. Ethan

  17. Ethan

  18. Mia

  19. Ethan

  20. Mia

  21. Mia

  22. Ethan

  23. Mia

  24. Ethan

  25. Mia

  26. Ethan

  27. Mia

  28. Ethan

  Epilogue

  More than Friends

  Chapter One

  Newsletter

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 by Jillian Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at JillianQuinnBooks.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Also by Jillian Quinn

  MORE THAN SERIES

  More Than Friends

  More Than Roommates

  More than Enemies

  FACE-OFF SERIES

  Parker

  Kane

  Donovan

  Jameson

  LOVE IN THE END ZONE

  Roughing

  Holding

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  For more information, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.

  1

  Ethan

  Ten years ago

  My body aches from practice, the pain settling into my skin and burrowing deep inside my bones. Every time it hurts, I try to ignore the throbbing sensation that spreads down my thigh. But the darkness always wins out, and I never fight it. Because I like the high I get from the adrenaline that courses through my veins.

  I need the reminder that I am still alive, even though I feel like I died a long time ago. I should have died. It should have been me. Now, I’m left with the guilt and the pain and a constant reminder of how much I fucked up. The scar above my left eyebrow—another reminder. Every time I look in the mirror, I have to confront my past. If only I could embrace it before it conquers me, eats me alive from the inside out.

  By the time I pull into my driveway, it’s dark outside, with nothing more than a sliver of moonlight illuminating the front of my house. My parents didn’t even bother to leave the light on.

  I blink a few times to clear my vision and get out of my Mustang, a late sixties Fastback my grandfather had left to me in his will. I was born into a family with old money, the car being one of the many toys I had inherited from Grandpa Joe along with a sizable trust fund. They say money can’t buy happiness. I know that more than anyone. Because even money cannot erase the parts of life I want to forget.

  Leaning against the door, I stare up at the old Colonial I moved into last year with my parents. After what had happened back in Boston, they forced me to leave my friends and relocate to Lower Merion Township, an upscale area just outside Philadelphia.

  My best friend and teammate, Will Roman, and his oh, so tempting little sister, Mia, help me get through the days. She’s my precious little lamb. The one girl who sees all the darkness in me and welcomes it. She doesn’t judge me. And I never have to hide from her.

  For once, the light isn’t on in my father’s office, yet he’s home. That’s a first. He must have drunk himself to sleep. I can only hope. When the house is still, I like to sneak in through the back door to avoid my dad. He hates me for all the trouble I have caused. I know he wishes I had taken Erik’s place.

  I have trouble keeping my eyes open, the weight of my day and everything that came along with it hitting me at once. As I cut through the hole in the bushes and into my backyard, I glance over at the Romans house. It has the same brick front and painted shutters as mine, only a little more worn down. I look up at the top floor to find Mia sitting on her windowsill. She smiles, her mouth open so wide that it reaches up to her pretty blue eyes, revealing a perfect set of white teeth.

  A girl this sweet should not go anywhere near monsters like me. If I were her brother, I would keep me as far away from Mia as possible. But Will has no idea how much Mia means to me. He never will.

  I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face her, my vision slightly blurry as I look at her. She gives me a tiny wave that I return, before she tilts her head toward the shed in the backyard. Most nights, I meet Mia on the swing set on the opposite side of the shed. It’s sort of our own little retreat from the world. If only I had the nerve to tell her everything. But I fear she will grow to hate me, just like everyone else does, and I can’t have that.

  I nod in acknowledgment to communicate that I will meet her later. She has to wait until Will falls asleep before she can sneak out. I wave one more time, with the promise to see her, and remove my cell phone from my pocket. Using the light from the screen, I jam my key inside the lock and push my shoulder into the door. The damn thing sticks when it’s hot outside, making it harder to avoid my parents.

  Luckily, the lights are off in the kitchen, so I creep through the darkness and head toward the stairs. I left my hockey bag in the trunk to avoid making any unnecessary noise. Drawing attention to myself in this house only gets me in a world full of trouble. For the most part, my dad is harmless. He mostly yells and screams, taking out his frustration over the past on me. I allow him to dig into me. Because I deserve every bit of his anger.

  I climb the steps, thankful to make it to the third floor without getting hassled. But my small victory is short-lived. When I push I open my bedroom door, my dad is sitting on my bed with a wooden box in his hand. Carved by hand, from bark my grandfather had at his cabin, the box holds all my secrets. Memories of Grandpa Joe and Erik, old family photos of happier times, and the one thing I never wanted him to find.

  Hidden deep beneath the velvet lining is my biggest secret, one that my father now knows. Why else would he be here?

  My dad sighs when he hears my footsteps, slowly glancing up at me with tears in his eyes. His face looks puffy, as if he’s been crying for a while.

  “So, this is the reason?” He holds the box out for me to take, and I do, stealing it away from him in a hurry.

  I flip open the top and sift through the contents. “Give it back,” I yell.

  He shakes his head. “You are leaving. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

  Reeking of bourbon and cigars, he gets up from the mattress and stands in front of me. Even with my height and build, he still has age and power over me. Sometimes, I fight him. Other ti
mes, I let him take out his aggression on me. Because I deserve it. All of it. Every last drop he has left to give.

  My lip curls upward in anger. “I am not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, you are, Ethan. I don’t want to hear another word. Your grandmother is expecting you. So is Whitmore.”

  The mention of Whitmore makes me cringe. I am not fucking going there.

  “I’m eighteen now. You can’t make me do anything.”

  He tilts his head back and laughs. “Oh, yes I can. Your grandfather put a provision in your trust. I am in charge of it until you are twenty-one. I would like to see how far you get without a cent from me.”

  I shrug. “Then, I’ll ask Grams.”

  “Think again. She won’t budge and neither will I.”

  “Then I’ll get a job.” I come face-to-face with him, so close that our noses are almost touching. “I don’t need you or your money.”

  “Maybe not, but you need my connections. One phone call is all it would take to ruin your professional career. Do you want that? Because I can take away everything you have ever wanted in the blink of an eye.”

  He doesn’t need to say it aloud, but I know what else he’s thinking. Just like I took everything from him.

  “No,” I mutter, the word a whisper on my lips.

  No matter how smart I think I am, he’s always one step ahead of me. He knows better.

  “I’m supposed to go to Strickland with Will. Coach is waiting for us to start in the fall.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets and steps back so that he can look into my eyes. “Not anymore. I called the school and declined your acceptance. Your coach was disappointed that you wouldn’t be joining Will, but you have more important things to worry about. Get some help, Ethan. You need it.”

  I do need help. But I hate to admit that my father is right. For once, he’s calm, instead of the usual belligerent mess I have grown accustomed to over the last two years. All my bad qualities I get from him. We are alike in so many ways, yet we act though we have nothing in common. I am not Erik. I never will be. That’s all that matters to him.

  He shakes his head at me one last time, disappointment and disgust registering most when he looks at the box in my hands. “You are going. End of discussion. Have your bags packed and ready. You leave right after your graduation party.”

  I consider running away, but how far would I get without money? My car would run out of gas before I made it one state over if that. With my only real friends next door, I could live with the Romans. But I don’t want them to know about my old life. I keep that shit locked away, just like the secrets I bury in this box.

  After my dad leaves my room, I sit on my bed and glance out the window. Mia’s bedroom faces mine. I remember the first time I saw her as if it were yesterday. She was singing into a hairbrush, wearing nothing more than a yellow bikini with white polka dots. She’s so innocent and pure, with her pale skin and blonde hair that’s almost white, hence why she’s my little lamb.

  Now, I have to break her heart along with mine. I have to say goodbye.

  2

  Mia

  Ten years ago

  I’m dead. Or at least I tell myself that as I sneak out of the back door of my parents’ house. Will, my older brother, would kill me if he found out about me meeting his best friend at the swing set at the edge of our properties. I’ve been hanging out with Ethan Waters behind my brother’s back for months. We wait until after midnight, when our houses are silent, and then we drink soda and eat junk food while we rehash our days.

  My heart speeds up knowing that Ethan is waiting for me in the backyard. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive from the forbidden act I am about to commit with Ethan. We both know what we are doing is wrong. But do we care? Not really. And it’s not like we ever crossed the line, despite the nagging desire to kiss Ethan every time he’s within twenty feet of me.

  If Will ever finds out about our secret friendship, he would flip. Ever since Ethan moved from Boston to the suburbs of Philadelphia last year, we danced around the idea of us being together. The closer he gets to high school graduation the more nervous I am about our relationship. We have become friends, and some days, I need him a lot more than he needs me. I live for the nights when we have this special time to ourselves. With my brother always around, I can never get close to Ethan.

  I shut the door behind me, doing my best not to make a sound. My parents turned off their light twenty minutes ago, forcing me to wait for Will. But he never sleeps. Once I heard his PlayStation turn on, and the sound of bombs penetrate the wall we share, I crept down the back stairwell. Almost every night I repeat the same routine.

  A small part of me likes sneaking around with Ethan because of the risk involved. It’s exciting. Being with Ethan is unlike any other experience I have had with a boy. Well, he’s not a boy. Ethan is a man now, not even close to the awkward boys at my school.

  What I like most about Ethan is that he never treats me like Will’s little sister. But my brother is protective of me. The first time he caught Ethan staring at my lips for longer than normal he went ballistic. Ethan never looked at me again that way. At least not in front of Will.

  When I reach the swings, Ethan has his feet planted on the ground, staring down at his feet. My heart aches at the sight of him. He looks so depressed that I instinctively crouch down in front of him and wait for him to raise his head. Our eyes meet, the electric current flowing between us sending a chill down my spine.

  “Hey,” he says under his breath. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.

  “Hey yourself.” I grab his knees to stabilize myself, and Ethan clasps my wrists with his calloused hands. A brush of heat dances along my skin, making me dizzy from the connection between us.

  I take in his manly scent, a hint of laundry detergent mixed with musk, and stare into his green eyes. A strand of shaggy brown hair falls over his forehead, giving him an unkempt look that I have come to appreciate. He’s the hottest boy in the neighborhood. Hell, Ethan Waters is the hottest boy in the entire city. And he’s here with me, of all people.

  “Why do you look so bummed?”

  He shrugs, still holding onto me. “My dad. You know, the usual.” Ethan turns his head to the side, the moonlight hitting his tanned skin just right. Ethan releases his grip on me and touches the scar above his left eyebrow. He winces, something he does all the time, as if what gave him that scar still haunts him.

  Ethan and his parents have issues, about what I have no idea. He likes to make jokes about bad situations, where I tend to shut down. Sometimes, my family can hear the Waters’ screaming at each other from the other side of the fence. Mr. Waters is an asshole to the highest degree. If Ethan as much as slacks off at hockey practice, loses a game or gets less than an A in school, he gets a lashing from his father. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable.

  Ethan says his father is only trying to toughen him up, but I disagree. I’m here to listen—not to tell Ethan what to do. That’s why our arrangement works so well. He talks about hockey, school, and his parents without any judgment from me. The only topic we never discuss is girls, and I prefer to keep it that way for my sanity. I would go crazy knowing that my crush has any interest in girls that are not me.

  I get up from the crouched position in front of Ethan and sit on the swing next to him. “I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”

  He turns his head so that our eyes meet and smiles. “I’d rather hear about your day. Tell me something good.”

  Ethan starts all of our conversations the same way. No matter how bad of a night he’s having, he always wants to know more about me. I love that he puts me first. In fact, I love everything about Ethan. But he’s off-limits. My brother would never understand our relationship, and my parents would have a fit given our four-year age difference.

  On occasion, my mom makes comments to me about the way I look at Ethan. She’s even more concerned about the way he looks at me as if I’m
the only person in the entire room. That feeling consumes me, pushes me through some of the worst days at school.

  I wish I could go to high school with Ethan and my brother. Middle school sucks, and so do the catty girls who torment me on a daily basis. Ethan has his shitty dad, and I have the mean girls in my grade. We bonded over our mutual commiseration.

  “Other than being here with you?”

  I blush ten shades of red from my cheeks to my chest. What was I thinking? I am never this forward. The words fell from my lips before I could stop myself from saying them aloud.

  Ethan gives me one of his boyish grins that make my heart skip a beat. “Just so you know, Mia, I like talking to you, too. Sometimes, I feel like you are the only person who gets me.”

  I grab hold of the metal ropes and push back to swing myself off the ground, the nerves bubbling up in my chest. “What about my brother? Don’t you talk to him?”

  Ethan falls in line with me, his long legs dangling in the air as he matches my pace. “I don’t know. Will says stupid shit that doesn’t help the situation anytime I try to talk to him about my parents. And you know how he acts when it comes to hockey.”