Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My roommate had to have a split personality.
By day, Adrian Sterling was cool, restrained, untouchable. By night, he kept climbing into my bed.
His arm would wrap around my waist, long and heavy, like some clingy snake coiling itself around me.
Later, I found out he used to sleepwalk.
So when he let out a muffled sound, I covered his mouth on purpose and whispered, “We’re in the dorm. You’ll have to keep it down.”
I just didn’t expect karma to come for me that fast.
In a hotel room, he pinned me down and attacked every one of my weak spots.
“This isn’t the dorm,” he murmured. “Do I still have to hold back?”
At one in the morning, Adrian lifted my bed curtain right on schedule.
He slipped into my blanket with practiced ease, lay down behind me, and draped one arm around my waist.
Then he wrapped himself around me like he belonged there.
His warm breath fanned across the back of my neck.
There was no way I could sleep like this.
But all I could do was bite down on the edge of my blanket and stay silent.
Because Adrian Sterling was the son of the richest man in Harbor City.
And our families had business ties.
Before I started college, my dad had warned me again and again: whatever happened, I was not to offend the youngest Sterling.
For the sake of the ten-thousand-dollar monthly allowance he was giving me, I’d nodded so hard I nearly sprained my neck.
What I hadn’t expected was this—
I hadn’t done anything to provoke Adrian, and yet somehow he was the one provoking me.
Every night at one a.m., without fail, he climbed into my bed.
Tonight was even worse.
Usually, I could just barely tolerate him holding me while he slept.
But tonight his hand was roaming over my waist and stomach.
Even through my pajamas, I could feel the scorching heat of his palm.
It made my whole body tense.
And while he was touching me, his mouth wasn’t behaving either.
“Julian,” he murmured against my ear, “your waist is so slim.”
Tonight I was wearing a pair of La Perla silk pajamas.
If he kept running his hands all over them like that, what if he snagged the fabric?
I finally snapped.
“Adrian Sterling,” I hissed, “what exactly are you trying to do to my pajamas?”
He lowered his head and thought about that for a moment.
Somehow, he looked even more excited afterward.
“So what you’re saying,” he said softly, “is that I should slip my hand inside instead?”
I: …
Adrian had put me through hell last night.
I stared at the red marks circling my waist and fell into troubled silence.
He seriously had no sense of restraint.
Chapter 2
If this kept up, he was going to toy with me to death sooner or later.
Meanwhile, Adrian stepped out of the bathroom looking refreshed, bright-eyed, and completely energized.
That only made me madder.
So at breakfast, I decided to confront him.
“Um… could you maybe stop climbing into my bed at night?”
I was scared of offending him, so I even made a point of sounding as tactful as possible.
“You do have your own bed, don’t you?”
Adrian looked at me in surprise.
“Julian, I always sleep in my own bed.”
His expression was so innocent that, if the marks on my waist weren’t still there as evidence, I might actually have believed him.
“Adrian’s a total neat freak. There’s no way he’d sleep in your bed.”
Tyler, one of the guys always hanging around him, immediately chimed in.
That much, I remembered.
A while back, Evan from next door had accidentally sat on Adrian’s bed. That same night, Adrian had thrown out the entire bedding set.
“Exactly. And Adrian’s not even into guys.”
Mason jumped in at once, eager to defend his precious leader.
“I am,” Adrian said coolly.
The air went dead silent.
Adrian, his two hanger-ons, and I all stared at each other.
My breakfast egg wrap nearly slipped right out of my hand.
Mason was the first to recover. He switched expressions so fast it was almost impressive. “Gay? Hey, that’s great. Totally great.”
“With Mr. Sterling’s face, his background?” Tyler jumped in at once. “He’d be absolute top-tier material in the gay world.”
Mason gave me a once-over, then sneered. “Julian, stop getting ideas about our guy. Even if Adrian likes men, there’s no way he’d ever go for someone like you.”
“Exactly,” Tyler said. “Who knows? Maybe you just had some pathetic little fantasy last night and decided to project it onto him.”
The two of them took turns tearing into me, like I was the one slandering Adrian.
Heat rushed straight to my face. I was furious and humiliated all at once.
It wasn’t like I was ugly.
I’d always been the clean-cut type growing up.
But if we were comparing height and build, then yeah—I was nowhere near Adrian.
And the worst part was that Adrian just stood there, watching quietly.
As if he agreed with every word.
Which meant—
he didn’t want me.
My self-respect took a direct hit.
Could I really swallow that?
…
Actually, yes. Yes, I could.
There were three of them.
What else was I supposed to do?
So I hunched over in silence and took a miserable bite of my breakfast.
As a man, the most important skill is learning when to endure.
Revenge was best served within twenty-four hours.
That night, I got into bed early.
Phone ready.
This time, I was definitely getting proof of Adrian Sterling climbing into my bed.
I was going to clear my name once and for all.
Chapter 3
One o’clock came and went.
Why hadn’t the bed curtain moved yet?
The dorm suite was so quiet all I could hear was the steady white noise of the AC.
A sliver of doubt started creeping in.
Had I really imagined everything before?
What if Adrian had never climbed into my bed at all?
What if all of it had just been in my head?
No way. Then what about the red marks on my body?
It wasn’t like I could’ve scratched those onto myself.
I tossed and turned, wide awake.
For the first time ever, my dorm bed felt ridiculously huge.
Without Adrian’s body heat behind me, my back actually felt a little cold.
At two in the morning, I finally heard soft rustling from the other bed.
I looked up.
Adrian was here at last.
Why was I… kind of excited?
Obviously because I was finally about to catch evidence of his midnight crime.
I shifted my hips a little and complained under my breath, “What took you so long?”
Like always, Adrian wrapped an arm around my waist the second he got in.
His hand, predictably, did not behave.
It wandered.
After a moment, though, he frowned, sounding displeased.
“Julian, aren’t you hot?”
Actually, yes.
I was basically roasting alive.
People always said guys had to protect themselves too when they were out in the world.
Especially after finding out Adrian was gay.
What if he turned around later and said I’d been tempting him by dressing too lightly?
So before bed, I’d deliberately layered up: a sweater, a thermal shirt, and a white tank underneath.
“You’re sweating,” Adrian murmured. “I’ll help you take it off.”
Wait.
Why did I need his help for that?
Adrian was unbelievable.
He just had to help me.
And he kept helping until I was down to a single white tank top.
The second he saw me like that, something in his eyes shifted. A flicker, dark and dangerous.
I looked down.
Oh, come on.
This tank top was basically a scam. The fabric was so thin it barely counted as clothing, and the outline underneath was faintly visible.
I slapped both hands over my chest on instinct.
My phone hit the bed with a dull thunk.
No. No, no, no.
My evidence.
Adrian curled his lips into a smile and casually exited the recording screen.
Then he leaned in close, his mouth brushing my ear as he spoke in a low, threatening murmur.
“Julian, are you sure you want to keep filming?”
His voice dipped even lower.
“I can’t guarantee what happens next is fit to air.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
By the time I processed it, warm lips had already covered mine. A faint taste of mint slipped past my defenses and flooded my mouth.
My first kiss!
I shoved at him with all my strength, but it was useless. Adrian worked out all the time. He was solid muscle from shoulders to waist.
Me? I was basically built like a decorative lamp.
I could only keep punching weakly at his chest, my fists landing against hard muscle with absolutely no effect. If anything, it probably looked less like resistance and more like flirting.
No wonder he kissed me even harder.