1. Chapter 1

I sat in the Ford F-150 pickup my parents bought me for high school graduation two years ago, as some classic rock played quietly in the background when my phone rang. I picked it up from where it was charging on the passenger's seat to see Mom was calling. My anxiety spiked to a thousand notches, seeing her number flash across the screen.

She wouldn't be calling for anything good. I never got any calls like, ‘Hi, honey, I'm calling to see how you're doing,' or ‘I want to let you know I love you.'

If I didn't answer, she'd keep calling to impose her will on me. Life was easier doing as I was told rather than fighting it. Still, my gut twisted, and my heart beat a little too fast every time she called. The dread was all-consuming, making it hard to breathe and the heart palpitations almost hurt because whenever Mom called, it was never anything positive. I always felt like a failure in her eyes, like she diminished me into a child who couldn't do anything right despite my best efforts to be the best son that I could be.

With a deep, cleansing breath that did nothing to calm me, I finally answered. "Hey, Mom." My voice was too high-pitched, desperate to mask my anxiety.

"I called to find out where you're at in finding an apartment. You're running out of time before classes start."

I stared across the crowded parking lot through my bug-splattered windshield at the sad excuse of an apartment building that had seen better days, looking like it was built in the early 80s. It was four stories of white stucco in desperate need of a power wash with a red Spanish tiled roof. The building spread out toward the back in a U-shape into what I assumed would be a courtyard. The garden-style apartments always did.

"Yeah, I'm working on it."

"Work harder, Cooper. Between classes, football practice, and homework, you won't be able to find a place. You should've started sooner. What are you going to do? Study in a park? Live in your truck? I won't have it. Get your act together."

"I'm meeting a potential roommate right now. I'm sure things will work out this time."

If I had the balls to fight my mom, I would've told her to leave me alone and that I would figure everything out on my own. Just let me make mistakes and learn to pick myself up when I fall. But my parents never let me fail at anything, so I did everything possible to be perfect and make everyone around me fucking happy. It sacrificed my happiness, but at least everyone left me alone… for the most part.

When I did fail, it fucking hurt. I struggled to cope. Like if we lost a football game, I had to go back and scrutinize every single play we made to learn where I'd messed up and where to improve so as not to fail again. It bordered on obsession, yet it made me good at the game.

"Good. Take the place and be done. It's only for four months, Cooper. Then you can move in with Bryce as you two planned."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me back later and tell me that you got the place."

"Okay."

I didn't even get a ‘goodbye' when she hung up, a clear indication of her frustration with me because I'd been struggling to find a place.

I looked at the building again dubiously for several minutes, quickly losing confidence that the inside would be much better despite the advertising for it. Regardless, the rent was right, and according to the roommate finder app, the images of the inside looked decent. I prayed it wasn't some bait-and-switch shit. Hopefully, my potential roommate was just as decent because I was quickly running out of options before classes started up again next week for the fall semester.

As a junior at the University of Texas at Austin, I was so over living in the dorms. I wanted an apartment with more freedom and privacy, but I couldn't afford a place by myself. All my friends already had apartments of their own and no space for me, so I had to hunt down a place to stay for the semester. My best friend, Bryce, still lived with his parents in Austin, but next semester, he wanted us to rent a place together, so if this apartment worked out, it would only be temporary.

This was my fourth try at finding a place. The first guy looked like a damn serial killer. He probably wasn't, but he looked scary as fuck, with long, greasy hair, and wild eyes. I imagined myself wide awake each night with a knife under my pillow for protection. I hightailed it out of there before seeing the place. The second dude had been fine, but the apartment was a dump with an unidentified pungent odor. I threw up a little in my mouth at the memory. The potential third roommate was a complete slob. It smelled of trash, and he had the kitchen counters covered in garbage and dirty dishes. I had no desire or the time to clean up after my roommate.

Hopefully, this place would have more potential. It was also within walking distance of the campus, so I didn't have to deal with driving or parking every day.

With a deep breath and dwindling hopes, I turned off my pickup and climbed out into the suffocating heat compared to the crisp air conditioning in my truck, breaking out into a fresh sweat. But I was used to Texas summers, which could linger well into late fall.

I shoved my keys and phone into the pocket of my gym shorts, jogged up to the third floor, and rapped on the brown-painted door with the number 303 in worn brass nailed to it. As I waited for the door to open, I glanced through the breezeway to the courtyard, finding a couple of picnic benches and grills surrounded by some landscaping and large live oak trees that provided ample shade. It looked pleasant enough.

According to the roommate finder app, Aspen Harper lived here. I'd never known anyone named Aspen before. How strange to be named after a tree, but I also weirdly kind of liked it. We talked briefly on the phone, and he told me he was my age at twenty-one, majoring in social work and youth services, was a part-time bartender on 6th Street, a popular hotspot for students and tourists, and played in some band. He seemed harmless enough and sounded pretty chill—a typical college student.

Suddenly, the front door burst open to who I assumed was Aspen. He was a whirlwind of chaos right from the start, contrary to his relaxed vibe on the phone. He ate a bowl of cereal shirtless with his basketball shorts hanging too low on his narrow hips, keeping his phone tucked into his shoulder and ear. His skin was between pale and tan, and it looked smooth and free of hair except for his dark happy trail. And was that… a rat on his head? The creature had white and black spots, and… yep, the hairless tail curled along Aspen's scruff-covered jaw, nesting in his thick, dark curls, which fell below his jawline.

He stood nearly as tall as me, maybe a couple of inches shorter than my six-two frame, but he was fit and had a sinewy build.

"Come on, man. You know we're good. We packed the place the last time we played. Everyone digs our rendition of Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. We always get the house pumpin' with that one," he said with a mouthful of Froot Loops.

He looked at me with dark brown eyes and shrugged his bare shoulder for me to come in. I followed him inside and closed the door behind me.

"Fine, so there was a bachelorette party, but they stayed to rock out with us. We made epic tips that night."

As he rambled on about something, I took in my potential apartment. I sniffed, inhaling scents of lemon and something masculine, but not a hint of garbage. Bonus points. The place also looked spotless. Double bonus points! So far, so good. But the place was chaotic, with crap everywhere. I didn't remember it being this cluttered in the pictures, not that it was dirty or messy. He just had a lot of shit. He had novels, textbooks, and journals crammed into bookcases. A worn couch sat against a wall, and a battered lounge chair sat across from it. The television was huge, and the console was stuffed with a video game system, games, and movies. With a quick peek at the kitchen, it opened up into the living room by a kitchen bar, which he kept clean, too, with not a dirty dish on the counter or in the sink. There was a low hum of the dishwasher running. He also had a shit ton of plants.

I stepped further into the place and stood in front of the couch to stare at the large abstract painting hanging over it, tilting my head. The art sucked you in. The colors were muted and filled with spots of gold, brown, and black, but mostly of cream and white. There was a figure off-center that was scribbled with charcoal. A nude figure. While there were no defining body parts, it embodied sensuality, not eroticism, but it had a lot of emotion to it. Interesting piece. Was he the artist?

As I took in the rest of the room, I noted more paintings of similar quality and style. They were beautiful and looked like they belonged more in a gallery rather than in a college apartment. They were too nice for Aspen's beat-up furniture.

"My mom painted those," he said behind me, jumpstarting my heart. I hadn't heard him end his call. "She hated my plain white walls and spent a couple of months doing some art for me."

And here, I could barely get my mother to notice me beyond expectations, let alone receive art from her.

I craned my neck to look back at him. "She's talented."

He smirked in a sweet way rather than cockily; like a smile reserved only for his mother. His chocolate eyes were bright and filled with tenderness. You could tell he loved his mom by his reaction alone. "Thanks."

He quickly set his cereal bowl down on the kitchen bar and wiped his hands on his shorts before thrusting his hand my way, and I shook it. "I'm Aspen, but my friends call me Asp. My stage name is Viper. I know it's stupid, but my bandmates thought it was cooler than being named after a tree. Hippies. My parents, that is."

"Cooper Summers."

"Number twenty-seven, wide receiver for the Longhorns. I know who you are, man. Sorry, I don't pay attention to stats, but I like watching the games. Fangirling over here. So, uh, want to look around? Check out your room?"

I raised a brow. "Just like that?"

He winked at me with a crooked smirk, this time more cocky and less sweet. "Well, it all boils down to Morpheus."

I looked around the apartment, searching for another roommate or a friend. "Morpheus?"

Aspen reached on top of his head and thrust the rodent at me, who didn't seem to mind being manhandled. "My rat. If Morpheus likes you, you're in."

I raised a brow. "He's not going to bite me, is he?"

"Not if he likes you."

"Is this how you screen all your applicants?"

His crooked smile grew broader, exposing perfectly straight teeth and these two small dimples at the top corners of his mouth. "You're my only applicant, so it is now."

"How many people has he not liked?"

He scratched his head and shrugged. "I dunno. He likes everyone so far."

I reached for the rat, which suddenly clawed up my bare arm, sending chills up my spine. My hair stood on end as it nestled on my shoulder. I'd heard of rats being pets, but I hadn't expected to be wearing one as a test to be a potential roommate.

"See! He totally likes you. You're in. Follow me."

Aspen walked down the hall, and my eyes trailed along his muscular back, flexing with movement, and down to where the waistband of his shorts met the peeking crack of his ass, clearly going commando. Who wore shorts that low on their hips?

Aspen clearly worked out, which was cool. Maybe he wouldn't mind a workout partner now and then.

"Here we are," he said, waving his hand toward the bedroom on the right before plucking Morpheus from my shoulder and putting the rat back on his head, which made a nest in his curls again and snuggled in.

"You watched Ratatouille too many times as a child, didn't you?"

He snorted a laugh as he looked away wistfully. "I love that movie."

"Figures," I chuckled teasingly as I walked into the empty space. The place had a pretty decent-sized bedroom, which was cool. It was clean, and this one had laminate wood floors instead of carpeting, which was an added bonus.

I opened the closet door to find a small walk-in. Perfect. "Looks nice. I like it," I said.

"You've got your own bathroom over here."

I followed him across the hall and stepped into the bathroom, which had been refurbished with stone tiles. It was modern and nice. I grew more confident about the place and that it would work out. While expensive—all the places near campus were—I could afford it with the football allowance I got from the university.

I turned to face him as he looked at me with large, dark eyes and thick brows and lashes, unsure why I focused on them, but they were unusually large and soft. "I like the place. You don't do any weird shit or anything, do you? Sorry for the blunt question, but I haven't had the best luck finding a roommate."

He smiled again and shrugged, taking no offense. "Define weird. I mean, I was raised by hippie parents. This is the most I generally wear at home, and I did it for your benefit. I may smoke weed from time to time, but I take it outside. I'm totally chill, and drama makes my skin itch."

"No drama is perfect. And my share would be a thousand a month?"

"Yep, and one-fifty for utilities. Do you have a lot of furniture?"

I shook my head. "Only bedroom shit, so it's good you have something to sit on out there."

"Cool."

Aspen walked into his darkened bedroom with blackout curtains and a black comforter on his bed. His walls had more art from his mom, but he also had some framed band posters, and in the corner stood a couple of guitars. He dropped his rat into its cage with a small warming lamp, then came back out, shutting the door behind him. "I've got some shit for you to sign."

I was surprised he was organized enough to have some sort of contract, but what did I know? I just met the dude. He just gave off a ‘whatever' vibe.

He rummaged around in some drawers in the kitchen before pulling out a folder with some paperwork. "If you wouldn't mind signing these—not that I don't trust you, man. Rent is due on the first of each month. Since it's mid-August, I'll need half your rent before you move in."

I took the folder from his hand and quickly scanned the papers. "Nah, it's cool. It's good you're thorough. What about the landlord?"

"What they don't know…" He shrugged. "Come on. We all do it. Going through them takes too damn long."

"Fair." He was right. People became roommates all the time without signing leases from the building manager.

"Once you sign them and pay your part, you can move in at any time."

"Awesome. Gotta pen?"

He dug in his junk drawer again, pulling out a black pen and handing it to me. I quickly signed the paperwork and handed it over.

"I got a check in my truck for you."

"Cool."

The place was promising, as was my roommate. I instantly liked Aspen. He had a charisma about him, and people were probably drawn to him. This definitely took the pressure off me to find a place. All my tense muscles eased, and the weight lifted off my shoulders, especially knowing Mom would be off my back for now.

"This is perfect, Aspen."

"We're buds now. You can call me Asp, but only if you want to."

"Asp… I like the place."

"This is gonna be awesome. I can feel it."

I smiled broader and shook my head. I had a good feeling about it, too.