Chapter 1

I stood outside the luxury apartment building, my suitcase weighing down my arm as I craned my neck to look up at the endless glass facade. My stomach was doing flips—part excitement, part pure terror.

UCLA had already cleaned out my savings account, and if Ryan hadn't hooked me up with his buddy Dylan, I'd probably be sharing a cockroach-infested studio with three strangers right now.

The elevator climbed to the 28th floor, and my heart climbed right along with it. When Dylan opened the door, I had to double-check the apartment number.

"Welcome home, Emma!"

Dylan's grin could've powered half of LA. He grabbed my suitcase before I could protest, and I caught a glimpse of his arms flexing under his white t-shirt. The apartment was straight out of a magazine—floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the city skyline, a kitchen island that probably cost more than my car, and a living room that screamed money.

"Holy shit, Dylan, this place is insane!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "You're really okay with me crashing here?"

"Are you kidding? Ryan says you're family, which makes you my family too." He set down my bag and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Besides, this place echoes when it's just me rattling around in here."

I immediately pulled out my phone to FaceTime Ryan. The second his face popped up, I practically bounced off the walls.

"Babe, oh my God, thank you so much! This place is like a dream!" I spun around, showing him the ridiculous living room. "I can't believe this is actually happening!"

Ryan looked smug as hell. "Told you Dylan would hook you up. His family owns half the buildings in this city. This is nothing to him."

"I swear I'll pay you guys back somehow," I said, meaning every word. Between Ryan and Dylan, I felt like I'd won the lottery in the boyfriend-and-friends department.

That night, I was making dinner in the kitchen, still pinching myself that this was real life. Tomorrow I'd start classes, but tonight I could just enjoy this slice of paradise. I was chopping vegetables when I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned around and nearly sliced my finger off.

Dylan stood in the doorway, completely shirtless, sweat still beading on his chest. His abs looked like they'd been carved by Michelangelo himself. My face went nuclear, and I whipped my head back toward the cutting board.

"Sorry Emma, just got done with my workout," he said, still breathing hard. Then he leaned against the doorframe. "Everything okay? You look a little flustered."

"Could you maybe... put a shirt on?" My voice came out squeakier than I'd intended, eyes glued to the vegetables.

"We're roommates now," Dylan chuckled, but something in his tone made my skin crawl. "You're gonna have to get used to seeing me around."

My pulse kicked up, but not in a good way. Ryan had never paraded around shirtless in front of me, even after we'd been together for over a year.

I told myself this was probably normal guy behavior. Dylan was Ryan's best friend—there was no way he'd try anything weird.

That night, I was finally relaxing in the bathroom, which was basically a five-star spa. I closed my eyes under the hot water, letting the stress of moving day melt away.

Then the door flew open.

"Oh shit! Sorry Emma, I thought you were done!"

I opened my eyes to see Dylan standing there, but his gaze swept over my body for way too long before he looked away. I screamed and yanked the shower curtain around myself.

"GET OUT!"

"My bad, the lock must be broken." Dylan backed away slowly, but his face didn't show the horror you'd expect from someone who'd just accidentally seen their roommate naked.

My hands shook as I stood there, heart hammering against my ribs. I know I locked that door. I always lock doors. And that look... that wasn't an accident.

But doubt crept in. Maybe the lock really is broken? Maybe I'm being paranoid? Ryan had mentioned Dylan grew up with three sisters—maybe he really didn't understand boundaries.

What finally broke me was the knock on my bedroom door at 1 AM.

I was just falling asleep when I heard the soft tapping.

"Emma... I can't sleep..."

Dylan's voice sounded small and vulnerable through the door, like a scared kid. Part of me felt bad for him.

"Dylan, go back to your room!" I called out.

"Can I just crash on your floor? I keep having these nightmares..." His voice got even more pathetic. "I won't be weird about it, I promise."

Every alarm bell in my head started screaming. What grown man asks to sleep in his female roommate's bedroom because of bad dreams?

"Absolutely not! Call Ryan if you're scared!" I shot back.

Silence. Then footsteps walking away. I lay awake for hours after that.

The next morning, I couldn't take it anymore. I FaceTimed Ryan the second I woke up.

"Ryan, we need to talk about Dylan," my voice was shaking. "He's making me really uncomfortable."

"Babe, that's just Dylan," Ryan said around a mouthful of cereal. "He grew up with three sisters—the guy has zero boundaries. You know how it is with guys who grow up around women."

"This isn't normal roommate stuff!" My voice pitched higher. "Last night he came to my door asking to sleep in my room!"

Ryan's face tightened for a second, then relaxed. "You're overthinking it. He's harmless. Probably just had too much to drink and wasn't thinking straight."

Watching Ryan brush off my concerns felt like a punch to the gut. The person I trusted most in the world thought I was being dramatic.

"But Ryan—"

"Emma, listen." His tone turned sharp. "Dylan is doing us a massive favor here. Do you have any idea what this apartment would cost? He's letting you live there for free. Maybe show a little gratitude."

The words died in my throat. Ryan was right—Dylan was helping us out big time. So why did I feel like I was trapped in a beautiful cage?

After I hung up, I sat in this gorgeous room that suddenly felt more like a prison. I started wondering what the real price of Dylan's "generosity" might be.

Dylan's smile flashed through my mind—that innocent expression that somehow made my skin crawl.

Maybe I really am losing it. But every instinct I had was screaming that this was just the beginning.