<p><b>WANTED: Roomate. Must be tidy polite and absolutely not my brother's hot-as-sin best friend.</b></p><p>I have no idea why I said yes. Maybe I'd had one too many wines. Maybe I'd done it accidentally. Maybe I'd been sleep-texting. One thing I know for sure is this: I absolutely do not want Ethan Hawkins in my apartment up in my business taking over my space. Yet he's here moving his stuff into my spare bedroom sending a wave of panty-melting musky man-scent my way every time he walks past me. Here's the thing. We don't get along—at all. We never have and I don't think we're going to start now that we're under one roof.</p><p>There's also that little issue where I'm kinda sorta totally in love with him...Uh-oh.</p>