“It’s communal. I don’t know how they did it at Penn, but I had my own bathroom, shared with one other girl.”

“Yes, we’re all savages at Penn. You should see the football team. They live in caves and eat with their hands.”

Her shoulders fall. “I know I’m spoiled and a bitch, but I’m uncomfortable at the idea of someone walking in on me.”

“The showers have misted glass. You can’t see through them.” That’s not entirely true. I’d be able to see her body fairly well. “And you walked in on me three days ago.” The mention of our moment in the bathroom—where she found me masturbating, where I hiked her leg around my waist—has her whole body tensing in arousal. She crosses her arms to cover the flush that rises on her neck. Only the mention of her sex life (or lack thereof) can make her so flustered.

“This is different.”

“I know.” Lo, Lily, Daisy, and Ryke will be sharing the space too. Adding me was like skipping two stairs at a time for her. With them, it’s like trying to stretch over five. “But everyone’s uncomfortable, not just you.”

She groans in distress. “I didn’t want to put them in this situation. The reality show wasn’t supposed to uproot their lives like this.”

I usually say the right thing. I’m obviously doing a shitty job today. The psychic and Scott have scrambled my head.

I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Lily wants to help Calloway Couture. She’d do anything for you. And they’ll all adapt quickly.” To make amends with Rose, Lily even sacrificed being close to her college. She’ll be taking online classes so she doesn’t fall behind.

Rose stops pacing with my touch. Ben documents her reaction with the zoom of his camera. She stares up into my blue eyes and leans close, her leg pressed against mine.

I comb her glossy hair away from her cheeks, and her arms cling to my waist. I ask, “Are you going to talk about Scott when I kiss you from now on? Or is it only going to be when we have sex?”

She clenches my button-down, fisting the fabric, and tries to throttle me for that comment, but I stay unmoving at her attempt, too strong to be overpowered by her, even if she puts up a good fight. With a huff, she stops trying to shake me. “One day,” she says, “I’m going to slap you on impulse, and then I’m going to feel like utter shit.” I read her eyes that say: maybe we should break up before it happens. Maybe we’re not good together.

“You won’t feel like shit,” I tell her, “because I’ll punish you for it.”

Her lips slowly part. “You’ll punish me?” She chokes on a laugh. “In what way?”

“Just trust me when I tell you that you’ll love it.”

She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I don’t see how I could love a punishment.”

“It won’t be like detention in prep school, Rose.” Remember, I have your best interest at heart.

She inhales deeply and she stares at my lips again, silently asking me to come a little closer.  Just as I go to kiss her, a jingling sound echoes through the open kitchen that’s in sight of the living room. No walls between any of them.

Sadie, my orange tabby cat, pads over to us, the bells on her collar clinking together. Rose spent an hour wrestling my cat just to put the thing on her while I was in class. She wants to know Sadie’s location so she can avoid her. My cat scratches women fairly often. She’s not fond of the times I locked her up for a date. But just for snapping on a collar, Rose had cuts all along her arms for a week.

I was about to sell Sadie after that, but Rose refused to let the cat leave. I appreciate her for trying to put up with my pet, but I don’t want to find her bleeding like that ever again.

Rose lets out a horrified gasp. “We have rats!” She disentangles from my arms completely.

She’s not frightened so much as disgusted by the rodent hanging out of Sadie’s mouth.

I rub my lips to hide my smile. “Sadie hunts like a champion.” I wink.

Rose plants her hands on her hips and stares at me like really? “You just winked at her.” Rose’s glare turns into a laugh, but when she looks back at Sadie, her face falls again. “It’s bleeding…oh my God.” Sadie drops the rat on the hardwood. “No, no…”

“You’re fine,” I say, setting my hands on her shoulders. “Breathe.” Rose is obsessive compulsive—a trait that has gotten out of hand since the paparazzi have clung to the Calloway family.

She blows out a long breath. “I can’t cohabitate with rodents.” She pauses. “That’s a lie. I’ve lived with Loren for nine months, but I draw the line right here.”

“So then we’ll move back to Princeton.” Win for me. Fuck you, Scott.

She shakes her head slowly. “No, no…I’ll just have to deal with this. It’ll be okay.”

Fine. “Lo, Ryke, and I can set rat traps tomorrow.” But I add this just to rile her, “The perks of having three men living under one roof.”

Contempt crosses her face. “Lily, Daisy and I are more than capable of doing it.” But she breathes a little easier at the idea of three guys living here. It’s appealing to not be in control all the time. Well, for her, not me.

“By all means,” I say, “set them yourself. I fully appreciate female power.” I step nearer, closing the space between us. “But you’re going to have to put them in dusty, dirty…” I wrap my arm around her hip. “…places.” I slide my hand to her neck and my thumb brushes her lower lip.

She inhales again, remembering where I put my thumb three days ago.

Ben silently films us, but I sense his unwanted presence. My thumb lingers on her soft, wet lip. Fuck the camera.

I’m about to push my thumb into her mouth once more, but the front door bursts open.

She pushes off me almost instantly, retreating in her head, realizing who and what surrounds us. I wear my complacent expression, even if I’m highly fucking irritated at whoever ultimately barged through the door.

I see his blond hair first, and my irritation escalates to new volatile levels. I’m already an egotistical ass. I’m afraid I’m about to become the villain of this reality show.

Right now, I don’t particularly give a shit.

“Look, another rodent,” I say to Rose.

She smacks my chest, but she’s smiling.

Scott saunters inside like he owns the townhouse. I’m sure the lease is in his production company’s name. Next thing, he’ll try to stamp Van Wright all over my girlfriend.

“Where is everyone?” he asks, extending his arms. “The psychic will be here in five minutes.” I fixate on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

I don’t like assuming things, but if there are clothes, a toothbrush and a change of underwear in his bag—we’re going to have a major fucking problem.

Rose squeezes my arm.

I’m wearing my anger.

That happens—never.

“They’re all settling into their new bedrooms,” Rose tells him. She eyes the duffel. “Traveling somewhere, Scott? Hopefully to California where you’re actually needed.”

When he faces my girlfriend, he’s not pissed at her insult. No. He smiles. His gaze even lingers on her lips—the ones that I just touched. “I’m needed here,” he tells her. “It just takes people time to realize what’s good for them.” He gives Rose a long once-over, and my blood begins to boil. “Nice dress, but you could lower the neckline. Showing your tits would increase the ratings.”

“So would shoving my foot up your ass,” she retorts.

My lips rise.

So do Scott’s.

“Just trying to help,” he says smoothly. “I do have a question though. If your sisters are wearing your collection on screen, does this mean they’re going to be entering a nunnery too?”

She growls and tries to charge him.

I seize her around the waist, holding her back. I hate that he incenses her like this. That’s my fucking role.

My lips find her ear. “You’re giving him what he wants.”