He’s a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He’s everywhere. He’s around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can’t see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can’t help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he’s alone. I hear everything. I know I shouldn’t do it. It’s obviously a terrible, terrible idea. Still, I bide my time. I wait, and I wait, and finally, I pounce. “Luke! I know what you’re doing in there.”