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The Bed Mate (Roommates #3.5)
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I might be a typical guy, but these last few years, my love life’s been anything but. From crazy ex-girlfriends to one night stands who are stage-five clingers, my relationships go bad faster than the milk in your fridge. The only constant has been my best friend Maggie.
Fresh off a bad breakup of her own, I invite Maggie to my guy’s skiing weekend knowing she needs an escape from reality. But then something funny starts to happen. I start noticing things about her that I never noticed before.
She’s beautiful and doesn’t know it, she’s funny without even trying, and now she’s suddenly single for the first time in forever.
Sharing a hotel room with her proves to be the tipping point in our very platonic friendship. Suddenly I want to put my hands, my mouth, and my … other parts … all over her gorgeous body. I want to claim her, make sure no man touches her ever again. But then her groveling ex shows up, and Maggie’s torn.
Am I ready to screw up the best relationship I’ve ever had for a shot at something more?
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One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories… to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday’s wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier’s daughter, he’d killed one thousand
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story… I begin a new
one… like the one that you, dear reader, have before
“Fifth bar of the night!” Jeremy’s speech was slurred but his eyes were filled with an unholy glee.
“Personal best,” Peter agreed with a snort, holding up a hand for a high five that Jeremy attempted to oblige him with but failed, swinging wildly and almost toppling off his chair.
I rolled my eyes and sipped my vodka soda, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see Sam’s expression. He wasn’t drunk like his other two friends—he was too responsible to let himself get trashed in public. Either way, though, I knew at least two of them were only sips away from tearfully telling me how much our collective friendship meant to them, and I so did not want to stick around for that.
“Maybe we ought to hit the road,” I murmured to Sam, jerking a thumb over my shoulder toward our drunken companions. “These two can grab a ride, right?”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Jeremy held up a hand and then dropped it back in his lap with a smack. “We didn’t get to the main event.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, clicking his beer against Jeremy’s.
“Maybe we better talk about it another night,” Sam said with a patient smile.
I shook my head and sighed. This ought to be good. “What’s the main event?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s what my genius friends have taken to calling our big snowboarding trip.”
“Not exactly.” Jeremy eyed Sam, then turned to me. “The main event for tonight was going to be us convincing you to go. Peter and I figured if we got enough booze in you, you might reconsider.”
I swirled my drink with its tiny red straw and frowned. “And how do you think your plan is going so far?”
“You tell me.” Jeremy waggled his eyebrows comically. “Don’t you want to spend more time with us on the snow-topped mountains of Colorado?”
“Appealing as that sounds, no,” I shot back with a grin.
“Come on. You have no idea how it feels to slice through the powder on your snowboard,” Peter protested. “It’s like heaven on earth.”
“I also have no idea what it feels like to break my leg, but I don’t want to find that out either,” I countered easily, taking another long pull from my drink. “Did you know that more than forty people died snowboarding last year alone? A snowboarder who gets on a mountain twenty times a year is likely to be injured once every seven years. You can’t argue statistics like that.”
“It could be fun…” Sam hedged with a shrug.
“Breaking my femur after wildly careening down the side of a mountain? I think not.”
Sam gave me a dead-eyed stare. “Not that part, scaredy cat. The trip, I mean. These guys aren’t right about much but you should come along. We’re doing New Year’s in style. Hot tubs and hot toddies in a winter wonderland.”
“Did you not get the stats I sent you the last time you tried to convince me to go snowboarding?” I demanded.