I knock, rock music inside the house stops, and a few seconds later the door opens. Standing in the doorway, bathed in the glow of the California sun, is a shirtless, perfectly sculpted, slightly sweaty, long-haired, brown-eyed, dark-skinned, gorgeous specimen of a man.
He wipes a towel over his face and then extends his arm to offer to shake my hand. “Della?”
I blink repeatedly, stunned by the testosterone overload. Eventually, I raise my hand and clasp his. It’s huge.
“I’m Easton.”
“Hi,” I eventually whisper, then clear my throat to regain composure. “Nice to meet you. Is Everley here? She was going to meet me, so I could get a key.”
“I’m Everley.”
“Oh.” Didn’t he say Easton? More importantly—“You’re a—” I scan his physique again. “Guy.”
“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles and steps back into the foyer to open the door wider and invite me into the house. “Your cousin didn’t mention that?”
“Uh.” I step onto the terra cotta tiles hesitantly and glance sideways at him. There is no mistaking he’s male, but his raven black hair falls to the middle of his back and is shinier than the hair of any female I’ve ever met. He is strikingly beautiful but definitely a guy. “Stuart said you modeled, and Everley sounds, um—” I stop myself before actually telling him his name is feminine. Based on his amused grin he already knows why I assumed he was female. “Is it Easton or Everley?”
“Everley was my mom’s maiden name. I only use it for modeling. Easton Lewis is what everyone here knows me as.”
“Oh.” He’s pretty enough to be an Everley, but Easton suits him better; homegrown and wholesome but also unique. And really cute. “Uh.” I clear my throat to give myself a second to refocus. “The other roommates are female, right?”
His smile widens, but then he turns without answering and walks down the hall towards the back of the house. I follow, scanning the rest of the downstairs on my way to the kitchen. He pours two glasses of a green concoction from the blender. “Smoothie?”
I step up to the island and take the glass from him. “What’s in it?”
“Kale. Papaya. Coconut milk. A scoop of peanut butter.”
I sip at first but then tip it back. It’s delicious. And if it’s the reason his skin is that flawless, I’m completely willing to drink it, three meals a day. “So, you didn’t answer the question. Is Taylor male or female?”
“Male.”
“Bailey’s a girl, though, right?” Please. Please be female.
Easton laughs and washes out the blender. “Bailey’s sensitive deep down, but he won’t ever show it to you. He’s cowboy to the core. And nobody calls them by their real names. Taylor’s nickname is Chuck. And Bailey goes by BJ because his last name is Jackson.” Easton’s thick lashes raise, and he shoots me a look that makes me gulp down the smoothie. “Your cousin didn’t tell you he was sending you to live in a house with three rodeo cowboys?”
I shake my head slowly side-to-side and place the glass on the tile counter. “Nope. He left that part out. I’m sorry there has been a miscommunication, but this isn’t going to work out.” I glance at his etched muscles one more time.
“You don’t have to worry about the boys. They’ll treat you like a little sister.”
“Thanks, but I can’t live with three men. My parents are very old fashioned.” And I am very not the kind of girl who could live with three guys. I mean, I assume I’m not. I’ve never lived with anyone other than my family.
He stares at me quietly as he comes up with a counter point. “Your parents don’t need to know. Don’t tell them.”
“Oh, I can’t do that. I try not to make a habit of lying. Well, except there was this one time with a friend, but it was to spare her feelings. I grappled with myself over the ethics, but I think omitting the truth was the right decision in her case. Not that you probably care about that. Sorry. I get sidetracked sometimes.”
With his arms crossed he rests his butt against the edge of the countertop. “Maybe you could omit the truth with your parents. I’m desperate. We really need the extra person to cover the rent by this Friday or we’re all out on the street. Is there anything I can say to convince you to stay?”
Hmm. With my feet still anchored in place I take a look around. The backyard has a pool. The appliances are stainless steel, gas stove. Everything is spotlessly clean. It’s walking distance to the school. The rent is affordable. Easton is a piece of moving art. But three rowdy cowboys. No. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m on a scholarship and can’t afford to let my grades slip. If you guys are partying all the time like a frat house I won’t get any studying done.”
“They don’t party here. They might stumble in at four in the morning, but you’ll mostly have the place to yourself. We travel for rodeos almost every weekend.”
I rub my hand over my face, torn. My dad really would flip if he found out I was the only female in the house. Mind you he’s already practically disowned me for leaving in the first place. If I don’t move in here I’ll have to stay at the motel. And I’ll have to do a house search to find a better place. Not that a better place in this price range probably even exists. This is exactly why Stuart left out the minor detail of them being male. He knew I’d turn it down flat if I knew. They’re just roommates, does it matter what gender they are? I know what my dad would think. I’m not sure what I think. Shoot. What to do. What to do.
Easton finishes his drink and says, “I need to hop in the shower. Why don’t you hang out and look around? The room you’d be in is the first on the left at the top of the stairs. You’d have your own private en suite bathroom. The boys and I share the other upstairs bathroom. Laundry is in the garage. A maid service comes in once a week. We take turns grocery shopping.”
I nod, letting it all sink in. It sounds perfect. He knows it does. His mouth makes a cute half-smile before he leaves the kitchen and heads upstairs. The shower turns on, so I wander around and peek out the patio door. Admittedly it would be relaxing to take study breaks out by the pool. The lush backyard is obviously maintained by a gardener. And there’s a gazebo! Dining el fresco was something I was definitely looking forward to when I decided to move from Canada to California.
Despite how clean everything is, there is no doubt three guys live here. Six pairs of athletic shoes and a collection of cowboy boots are lined up by the back door. The barbecue is enormous, as is the stacked wall of empty beer cans next to the recycling bins. And they have a full universal gym, boxing bag, and huge free weights set up on the patio next to the hot tub. I wonder if they’re all as fit as Easton. Probably. That would definitely be a distraction.
After checking out the laundry room in the garage, I tread quietly upstairs. Why does it feel like I’m sneaking around? Maybe because I keep imagining Easton standing naked in the shower. This is why my dad wouldn’t approve. He shouldn’t approve. I’m going to completely fail all my classes if I live here.
Oh my. I swing the door to my room wider. It’s ideal. I should leave before I fall in love with it. Too late. Why? Why are you so perfect? Walk-in closet. Queen-size bed that looks brand new. A solid wood dresser and matching desk. A huge window with
