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My Roommate is a Boy Novel Cover

My Roommate is a Boy

River Wilson has her entire life planned: earn top grades, avoid distractions, and graduate as valedictorian. Love? Boys? Drama? Not on the schedule. But her perfect plan unravels the moment she steps into her new university apartment... and finds Taylor DeLuca shirtless, tattooed, and infuriatingly smug, standing in her kitchen. Thanks to a university housing glitch and a name too ambiguous to question, River ends up living with the one thing she promised to avoid: a boy who looks like trouble and acts like he invented it. Now she's armed with a list of house rules, a schedule tighter than her ponytail, and one unbreakable boundary: no flirting. But Taylor has a smirk that makes her forget her rules... and a past that's more complicated than his cocky charm lets on. What happens when the girl who has everything under control is forced to live with the boy who thrives on chaos? Let's just say... Rule Number Eight is about to get broken.
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Chapter 5

RIVER

I was even surprised that he asked me to make the rules. I had thought he would have been against it, but then maybe this was a good thing. He knew boundaries and decided to accept them. I take out a notebook and open it to an empty page before I begin to write in it. I wanted to believe that somehow I might find a way here before the end of the year. Who knows, my luck could just turn around all of a sudden, and I could get lucky.

'HOUSE RULES' I write boldly at the top of the paper and draw a line underneath. I hear him snicker, but he does not say anything about it. "First rule, you can't be shirtless, especially in shared places," I say, and he smirks with a head shake. He is quiet as if he had agreed, and since I did not get any refusal from him, I scribble it down and go on to the next.

"No morning noise, at least before 9 am," I say, and because he is just sitting there quietly as I recite all of the rules before scribbling them down. I tear out the page and hand it over to him.

He takes the paper from me and stares at the right rules I had written. "Don't I get to write anything down?" He sounds like he is judging all of the rules I had written.

I stretch the pen to him, and he shakes his head. "I am not a weirdo," he whispers as if that is supposed to be some kind of insult. He drops the paper on the coffee table in front of us before he walks to the room and comes out with a neon highlighter and begins to scribble on the paper.

Once he is done, he hands it over to me, and I gasp at what he has under. Under rule number one, which is that he can't be shirtless in shared spaces, he writes, 'I can't promise that,' and then he goes on to rule number four and scribbles, 'Can I bring my dog?' He knows I clearly mean that he can't have a girl over, and yet he wants to provoke a reaction out of me. And under number eight, which is most important, no flirting with me. 'You'll break this one first, sweetheart.'

I look up at him with my eyebrow raised slightly. "This is only temporary; I would find a solution to this, and we would go our separate ways," he nods, but it is obvious he does not believe in me.

"I will put this up on the fridge," he announces as he makes his way to the kitchenette. Soon, the rules are hanging there, and he is still standing in the middle of the kitchen, shirtless. I stood up and walked to the counter separating us, and with a clearing of my throat, I grabbed his attention.

"Rule number one," he says, looking at me as if I am speaking gibberish for a while before he walks away with a smirk and emerges a few minutes later with a tank shirt on.

"Happy?" I nod because I am; at least he was not violating me with his body, even though I could still see how much he worked out from his arms. "I am going to make some toast and scrambled eggs; want some, sweetheart?"

"Don't call me that. And no, thanks," I say, backing away to go unpack my things.

"I guess you don't like your nickname. Then I am going to come up with another for you."

"I do not want a nickname; you can call me River, and I would call you Taylor," I say as if he is not aware of his name.

"Are you sure that's what you want, sweetheart?"

"Hundred per cent"

"Suit yourself then," he said, turning to the cupboard and taking out the ingredients he needed. I was in my room and checking the time. I could see it was a little past ten am, and I sighed. I'd better get to unpacking.

A few hours later, I was done with all of the stuff I had and was now anticipating the rest of my things coming along later that week. I can't believe I would unpack them now and then get to pack them up again. I know that I would find a solution to this problem, as there has never been an issue I have not been able to solve.

I looked up places I could get something to eat since I had no food to prepare with me. I stepped out, and sitting on the couch were Taylor and a strange girl almost on his lap. It hasn't been a full day, and he was already breaking one of the rules.

"Good afternoon," she says with her eyes running down my body as she looks back at Taylor. "Is she the roommate?" I usually did not care about what people thought of me, but I did not like that this girl, who looked superficial, had already heard things about me.

"She is." Taylor looked uninterested in whatever she was saying as he kept on wiping his phone.

"Baby, don't you think she is too hot to be your roommate?" The girl cried, acting as if I were not standing right there.

"Taylor, a word," I say, and then to the girl I smiled. "Don't worry, Taylor is not my type." I do not even know what my type is; I had never been in a relationship before, so saying my type was a far fetch. She looks offended by my declaration, and I can't understand why. Shouldn't she be happy? I ignore her and take Taylor to the kitchen, pointing at the fridge.

"It's been barely a minute, and you are already breaking rules," I say, pointing to the fridge.

"Are you saying I am not allowed to have my girlfriend over?" he asked, amused. It is almost as if he thought the rules were supposed to be a joke.

"Did I stutter?" I respond, looking over to the blonde sitting on the couch, staring at us. "I am going for lunch, but this should be gone by the time I get back." I hold my bag close to me before storming out angrily.

PS: I know you want to see River's rules, so here you go.

HOUSE RULES.

1. No shirtless walking around the apartment. Ever.

2. Respect morning silence: no loud music or talking before 9 a.m.

3. Dishes must be washed immediately after use.

4. No random people allowed in the apartment.

5. No touching my stuff. Especially my notes. Or my snacks.

6. Keep the bathroom clean. Hair. Towels. Everything.

7. You stay on your side of the living room. I stay on mine.

8. No flirting. With me. At all. Ever.

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