What to do when the sexy hockey player youve been avoiding suddenly becomes your roommate? Make no touch rules. Obviously.
Ive spent months dodging Leo Parkers attempts to score a second date. Yes, hes gorgeous. Yes, he plays for the Louisiana Voodoo. Yes, he kisses like its an Olympic sport. But hes also six years younger than I am and—plot twist—I used to babysit him when he was twelve.
But when a hurricane destroys my restaurant (and the storage closet Ive been sleeping in), Parker swoops in with the perfect solution. Move in with him. Temporarily. With RULES:
No sex
Clothes stay ON in common areas
Hugging, but only before 5pm
But living with Parker means watching him do everything without a shirt on. Hearing him moan over my cooking like its foreplay. And discovering hes not just a pretty face—hes funny, generous, and seems to like mejust the way I am.
Soon were roadtripping to food festivals, winning crawfish mating-call contests (dont ask), and breaking every rule. Repeatedly. Im starting to think this sweet, sexy man might be My One.
Theres just one problem: When it comes to men, Im cursed. And a blast from the past is about to remind us why falling for each other might be the worst rule weve broken yet.
