The Roommate Proposal (Perfect Opposites #2) Read Online Jace Hadley

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Perfect Opposites Series by Jace Hadley

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

I just want to get through grad school without being cut off from funding by my homophobic father. The last thing I need is to be lusting after my new roommate, associate professor Logan Pierce. All he’s offering is a place to crash for a couple weeks, but every time he flashes his surfer boy smile at me I daydream about dropping to my knees.
At first glance Logan is an easygoing slacker. But he’s also sweet, generous, and takes my weird habits in stride. He doesn’t even tease me when he finds out I’m a virgin—instead, he proposes the perfect arrangement: he’ll teach me everything I’ve never experienced, no strings attached.
I can’t turn down the chance to get my fill.
But my heart doesn’t get the memo, because it wants more than casual.
More can never happen. Not if I want to make it to graduation and finally escape my family.
Because if we start something real…I don’t think I’ll be able to let it go.

I’m happy to drift through life on easy mode. So what if there’s a voice in the back of my head telling me something’s missing? I don’t put much stock in it until prickly grad student Aleksei needs a place to stay and I offer up my spare room on impulse. Suddenly my easy life is turned upside down.
Aleksei won’t let me wash my own dishes and meditates naked. He’s bossy, buttoned-up…and sexy as hell. For the first time in forever I’m in lust—which is bad enough, because he’s ten years younger than me with a family from hell. He needs someone his own age, someone who’s got it together. But when my lust grows legs and saunters right on over to the ‘feelings’ department I’m in deep trouble. I’ve never felt this way about anyone…and the last thing Aleksei needs is a relationship with a guy like me. A relationship that could jeopardize everything he’s worked for.
Yet when Aleksei turns tail on our arrangement, I might be ready to chase what I want for once in my life.




When I was a kid my dad liked to tell me ‘Son, if you work hard you can have anything you want.’ Typical of all his advice, it came with an insinuation that I was not, in fact, working hard enough. Dad was the youngest son of immigrant parents and he worked hard for everything he had. Everything our family had. For a long time I believed his advice was genuine. I made it my mantra: if I worked hard, I could have the things I wanted.

Until I turned fourteen and he caught me kissing another boy behind the shed. Then I understood that no matter how hard I worked, there were things I would never have. His respect. The freedom to be myself. So I stopped chasing those ends and I accepted a new mantra: if I worked hard, I might get out from under his thumb.

Sometimes I wish that instead of pursuing a graduate degree, I’d taken my bachelor’s in statistics and gone straight into finance. I could be riding high on a corporate salary but I’m crammed into a tiny apartment with three other grad students. On days like this I wonder if it would’ve been worth selling my soul for some personal space.

There’s a stereotype that grad students are too busy to party, but this bunch didn’t get the memo.

I groan into my hands, my voice reverberating through my skull. Even noise-cancelling headphones can’t drown out the bass of my roommates’ music. I don’t know about these jokers but I have class work due tomorrow. It’s hard enough trying to stuff social theory into my number-loving brain. I don’t need a headache to go with it.

I drop my headphones on the desk and get up. The lights are low in the living room and the LED bars on the speaker set pulse rainbows in time with the music, giving the room the seedy glow of a dance club. An action movie plays on the TV with the sound off, guns popping silently and cars spinning.

I bang on the doorframe with a fist and Keeley peers over the back of the couch.

“Oh, Alex! You frightened me.”

I bristle. My name isn’t Alex—it’s Aleksei. But that’s a battle I stopped fighting ages ago. “Keeley. Can you please keep it down? I’m trying to work.”

“It’s almost Friday, baby. Live a little! Join us!” She shimmies out of sight. I know what she’s about to do. Sure enough, she pops back up with a joint in hand. “Sunni and I are gonna smoke this on the balcony later. You look like you could use a hit or three.”

I rub my temple. “I’ve told you I don’t do that.”

“You don’t do anything,” she whines, clearly already inebriated. “Except bitch us out.”