Maggie

I was in a deep slumber until someone bumped into furniture while cussing up a storm. Ugh, I'm glad someone thinks of other people needing sleep. I propped myself up. I noticed a silhouette bumping into items and throwing stuff around the bedroom.

Oh, you don't worry, buddy. I enjoy watching a guy invade my room while making noise. He stopped and made his way over to the bed, falling onto it. What the hell?

I pushed him with my finger. "Hey, buddy. You're in the wrong room." He didn't budge. So, I tried to shake him until I heard snoring. Oh, hell, no. I was not sleeping next to a dying bear. Not to mention, I didn't even know this guy.

My theory is that he needs a good night's sleep if he's planning on killing me. If he didn't kill me, then we have a huge problem. I tried to make my great escape until a hand stopped me. The person yanked me onto the bed, engulfing me with their muscular arm.

I don't mind a muscular arm around me, but I prefer it to be with someone like Bryson Tilson. Thinking about him sent my heart racing. I haven't gotten the nerve to talk to him yet. This year will be the year.

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to sleep. Your yapping is keeping me awake," the person said through the muffled sound of the pillow with their face buried.

"Well, excuse me, but you barged into my room while I was sleeping."

"You mean my room."

"Um, no. It's my room."

He lifted his head. The moonlight hit his face, showing his hair flop upon his forehead. "Nope, this room has been mine for the last twenty years. Now shut up and go to bed. We can discuss sleeping arrangements in the morning." He threw his head back into the pillow.

Well, shit.

Lying next to me was none other than Nash Gray, the oldest of the Gray Brothers. He's twenty and has been away for the past year. Pat said he needed to find himself. He needed to find a personality. He's hot, but he's like a sack of wet potatoes, useless like his personality.

I refuse to sleep here with him. I got up, yanked down, and pulled to him. Then he inhaled. "Mm, coconuts."

Did he freaking sniff me? Why the hell is this guy cuddling me? We hate each other.

I drifted off to sleep after I stopped trying to leave. It didn't matter because Nash kept pulling me back into the bed.

I awoke the following day to notice Nash changing his clothes. His personality might be an ass, but he sure had a nice one.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"What?"

"I said take a picture since you enjoy staring at my ass so much."

I gave him a disgusted look as he smirked.

He pulled a tee shirt over his head. "I'm glad you outgrew your ugly duckling stage, Maggie."

"Was that a compliment?"

"Sure, let's go with that." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Shouldn't you be finding yourself or something? I doubt you found your personality. You need to leave and go find it again."

"Ouch." He placed his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "Should that offend me? It didn't. Then again, your presence here is offensive enough."

My blood boiled.

"Don't get mad. I mean, it's not like we haven't caught you staring at us through your bedroom window."

"I wasn't staring."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. You need to find another bed to sleep in tonight." He walked out of the room.

Fantastic. I deal with the jerks who lived here and now with the king jerk himself. Ugh. My parents could not come home soon enough.