The House Mate (Roommates, #3)

Max

In thirty-four years, I hadn't found a woman yet who could handle me.

My buddies teased me that I had the attention span of a gnat, and while that wasn't true-I had a successful ten-year career in the US Army as a Ranger, and over the last few years I'd built my business into something I could be proud of-I let them go on thinking it. No, there wasn't a damn thing wrong with my focus or level of commitment. Once I decided on something, I was all in.

It was just the idea of being tied down to the same woman day after day-well, let's just say it didn't hold a candle to my freedom. I liked things the way they were. I was free to come and go as I pleased, work long days when business called for it, and take off for a weekend away when the mood struck. I enjoyed my life just the way it was, and I had no plans to change that anytime soon.

"How long's it been since you've been laid?" my good friend and employee Matt asked, grinning at me over the rim of his pint glass with a crooked smile.

My life was simple, and I cherished simple. I didn't do complicated. Didn't do messy relationships or complex emotions. I was the center of my world and that was just fine with me. I knew it was selfish, but that's just the way things were.

Realizing Matt was actually waiting for me to reply, I muttered out a curse and took a sip of my own beer.

"You've been a crabby asshole at work lately," he added for emphasis.

Christ, he has the discretion of a crackhead in need of a fix. "You do understand I'm your boss, correct?" I glared at him, but he merely flipped me the middle finger. The dick.

We were seated at the bar of our favorite local hangout after a long work week. The Fireside Lodge served the best cheeseburgers and the coldest beer in town, and we found ourselves parked right here most Fridays. I was almost surprised the owner hadn't marked these stools as reserved with all the time we spent on them.

"Thank fuck someone had the balls to bring that up," Zach muttered under his breath.

"You draw the short straw?" I asked Matt. They weren't generally the type to pry into my personal life, but they never hesitated to point out my foul mood.

Despite their annoying probing, they were both pretty good guys. They'd worked for me since I started my construction business on a wing and a prayer three years ago. They stood by me, agreeing to work for less than they were worth until I could afford to pay them more. Now we all did pretty well, but then again, we worked our asses off, so it was all relative.

"Seriously, man. You could use a woman in your life," Matt said, gazing down into his half-empty beer glass.

"Or at least in your bed," Zach added.

My life? That was a big fat no-fucking-thank-you. But my bed? That wasn't the worst idea they'd ever had. I tried to remember the last time I'd had the pleasure of a woman's company. To be fair, it had been a little while, maybe a couple of months, and damn if I was going to admit it to them, but there was a chance they were right.

"I'll take that under advisement," I mumbled, trying not to stroke their egos too much.

"Good, 'cause there's a cute little number giving you the eye over there," Matt said, nudging my ribs with his elbow.