Chapter 1

My hot roommate had been acting weird lately. Every time he saw me, he blushed and looked away. I figured he hated me.

Then one night, while I was hugging my stuffed bear, his voice went off in my head, wrecked and humiliated.

"Please, don't touch me there."

I looked down at the bear I had been mauling.

I froze.

I had apparently stumbled onto an earth-shattering secret.

*****

I had a habit when I slept.

I liked to trap a big stuffed bear between my legs, because it made me feel safe.

One night, I was dead asleep when I thought I heard someone talking.

It was a low, strained male voice with a hitch of held-back breath in it.

"Don't. Not any lower."

The voice was so close it might as well have been against my ear.

I jolted, and most of the sleep drained out of me.

There was nobody else in the room.

My roommate, Lucas Grant, lived next door. He was cold and quiet and gorgeous, and when we ran into each other, we nodded.

There was no way he'd let himself into my room in the middle of the night.

I strained my ears for a long moment, and the apartment stayed silent.

I'd probably been dreaming.

I rolled over, squeezed my legs together out of habit, and hugged the bear tighter.

And the voice came back.

He whispered, "I told you to stop."

It was clearer this time, and there was a raw, breathless edge to it.

Every hair on my body stood up.

Why did that voice sound so much like Lucas?

My mind went blank. I decided someone had broken in, and I kicked out on instinct.

My foot caught the bear instead and sent it flying to the foot of the bed.

It landed with a dull thump.

At almost the same instant, a much louder thump came through the wall from the next room, along with a man's smothered groan.

"Mm."

That sound was lethally sexy and lethally familiar.

It was Lucas.

I went rigid, and my brain shut down for three full seconds.

What was happening?

I had kicked my bear.

So why was he the one making noise?

A completely ridiculous idea hit me like lightning.

No way.

There was no way my bear and Lucas were connected by some secret, unspeakable thread.

*****

The next morning, sporting two spectacular dark circles, I loitered in the living room and pretended I wasn't waiting for Lucas.

My stomach was in knots, half nerves and half curiosity.

Before long, his door opened.

He was in a crisp dress shirt and slacks, not a hair out of place, and behind the gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were as cool and distant as ever.

He looked exactly like he always did.

I let out a breath. I really had been imagining things.

But when Lucas turned to change his shoes by the door, I caught something off about the way he walked.

His back was held too stiff, and his stride was noticeably shorter than usual.

It was as if he'd hurt something in his lower back.

My heart skipped a beat.

Last night, my kick had landed right around the bear's middle.

This couldn't actually be happening.

"Hey. Lucas." I worked up the nerve to open my mouth.

He turned back with a flat "Mm?" and a questioning look.

"Are you okay? You don't look great."

I racked my brain and produced the worst excuse in history.

He pushed his glasses up, and something flickered behind the lenses.

"I'm fine," he said.

His voice was as cool as ever, and it gave nothing away.

He added, "I didn't sleep well."

Then he opened the door and left.

I stared at the closed door, and my suspicions only got bigger.

I had to run another test.

That night, I waited until the apartment was dead quiet.

Once I was sure Lucas had gone to bed, I tiptoed into my room and locked the door.

Then I picked up my prime suspect.

I looked into that dopey little bear face, took a deep breath, and reached out with my guilty hand.

I found the bear's ear and gave it a tug, not too hard and not too soft.

Everything was dead silent.

Nothing happened.

I made a face. I really had imagined the whole thing.

I was about to give up and toss the bear back on the bed when something crackled through my head like a live wire.

And Lucas' voice, mortified and furious, went off inside it.

"Are you done yet?"