WANTED: ROOMMATE. Must be tidy, polite, and absolutely not my brother’s hot as sin best friend.
Kiss Me Again, an all-new hilarious brother’s best friend standalone romance from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is available now!
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.
There’s also that little issue where I’m kinda, sorta, totally in love with him…
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I shoved the front door open and set my gaze on Ethan on the sofa. “If you’re going to lie to me about living here, we’re going to have to set some hard and fast rules. The first one: the stinky, spiky pig lives in your bedroom.”
He peered over at me, one hand in a bag of cheese Doritos and the other tickling the hedgehog who was now lying on his chest.
It was quite the sight.
“How do you know he stinks?” he asked, licking his fingers and cradling the animal before he put the chip packet on the coffee table.
“I Googled. They need cleaning every day. I’m not doing it, and neither am I living in a smell of tiny animal who should be wild.”
“He’s a pygmy hedgehog. He’s bred to be domesticated.”
“His spiky bits could be made out of solid gold and I wouldn’t give a shit.” I put my purse on the island and looked at him. “You can send me Google links to them if it pleases His Highness, but my stance won’t change. That animal is not living in my living room, and I’d rather you didn’t snuggle with him on the sofa.”
“It’s ironic,” Ethan mused. “I have a hedgehog on my chest, and you’re still the prickliest thing in this apartment.”
“If I wasn’t staunchly against animal cruelty, I’d throw a saucepan at you.”
“You can still hit me over the head with it.”
“I was talking about you, not the hedgehog, you pig.”
“May I say that you are an absolute fucking delight, Ava. I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”
“Probably the same reason you are. The asshole gene is strong as fuck and not all that attractive.”
About Emma Hart
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.
Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.
Yes, really. She’s that sarcastic.
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