Rule 1

Nora stared at him, waiting for an explanation or an apology. Neither came.

That was how she met Liam Carter, the college hockey captain whose jersey numbers half the girls on campus wore with pride. He was also the man she would be sharing an apartment with for the next six months.

She considered turning around, dragging her suitcase downstairs, and demanding an explanation from the landlord. Instead, she stepped inside and shut the door.

Her financial aid grant had been cut in July, and the dorm waitlist was months long. This apartment cost three hundred and fifty dollars less than anything else near campus.

She couldn't afford to be picky.

Six months. No drama. No getting kicked out. That was the plan.

The apartment looked better than the pictures had suggested. A gray couch faced a television mounted on the wall, while hockey magazines and a loose skate lace cluttered the coffee table. A large black gear bag sat beside the entrance, carrying the unmistakable smell of ice, old tape, and IcyHot. A hockey stick leaned against the corner, its blade wrapped in fresh tape.

“Where's my room?” Nora asked.

Liam pointed down the hallway with his taped wrist. “Second door on the left.”

“No tour? Nothing?”

“You've already seen the important part.”

She glanced around the kitchen. “You mean this place?”

He looked down at his bare chest before meeting her eyes again. “No.”

Heat crept into her cheeks. “I wasn't looking at you.”

“Sure.”he replied

“I really wasn't.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, roommate.”he said with a smirk.

Nora rolled her eyes, grabbed her suitcase, and headed down the hall. Liam's laughter followed her, low and warm.

It was an annoyingly nice laugh.

She hated that she'd noticed.

Her bedroom was larger than she'd expected, with a queen bed, a desk beneath the window, and a dresser topped with a mirror. The fresh paint still carried a faint chemical smell.

She lowered herself onto the mattress, wincing when her injured knee protested.

Nora Shaw. Junior. Athletic training major. One bad semester away from losing the remainder of her scholarship.

She had survived worse than an arrogant roommate. She could survive Liam Carter, too.

Her phone buzzed.

Maya: Did you make it? Tell me everything.

Nora called her, and Maya answered almost immediately.

“So, how's the apartment?” Maya asked.

“Fine. The paint is still wet.”

“And the roommate?”

Nora glanced toward her open bedroom door. “He's here.”

“Is he cute?” Maya asked.

“You haven’t even asked his name,” Nora replied.

“I don’t care about his name. Is he cute?”

“He was wrapping his wrist in the kitchen when I walked in. Maya, he was shirtless.”

Maya screamed. “You’re living with a shirtless guy?”

“Keep your voice down!” Nora hissed. “He was wearing sweatpants, and he had tape in his mouth.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!”

Nora rubbed her forehead, careful not to touch the bruise on her cheek. “His name is Liam Carter.”

Silence fell over the line.

“Liam Carter?” Maya repeated, her voice changing. “The Liam Carter? Girl, he’s campus royalty!”

“He’s an arrogant jerk,” Nora said.

“That doesn’t mean he’s ugly.”

“I never said he was ugly. I said he was arrogant.”

“Interesting,” Maya replied.

“Stop saying interesting.”

Maya laughed. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, especially with him.”

“I signed a lease, Maya, not a death wish. I’m here to study and keep my scholarship.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

Hearing footsteps in the hallway, Nora glanced toward her open door. “I’ll call you later,” she said before ending the call.

Liam appeared in her doorway, leaning against the frame. He had changed into a plain black T-shirt, which did little to make him less distracting.

“Boyfriend?” he asked.

“No,” Nora replied.

“Good.”

She frowned. “Why does that matter?”

He shrugged. “A boyfriend would make living together complicated.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t have to deal with my love life.”

“Good to know.” Liam held up a finger. “We have one bathroom. I shower early, so use it before seven if you don't want to wait. Practice runs late, and we play games on weekends. If you hear me in the kitchen at midnight, don't assume I'm being inconsiderate. I'll probably be hungry.”

“Okay,” Nora replied.

Liam tilted his head. “Do you know any other words?”

“Do you have any other personality traits?” she countered.

His eyebrows rose before a slow smile spread across his face. “So you do have a sense of humor.”

“I wasn't joking.”

“That makes it even better.”

“Are there any rules?” Nora asked.

“Rules for what?”

“Living together. Clean up after yourself, warn me before bringing people over, and don't touch my belongings.”

“That's a lot of rules,” Liam remarked.

“It's three.”

“Still a lot.”

Nora sighed. “And we respect each other's privacy.”

His knowing smile returned. “Of course.”

Something about the way he said it made the back of her neck warm.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liam.”

“I said nothing, Shaw.” He pushed away from the doorframe and walked down the hallway.

Nora watched him leave before shaking her head. Six months. All she had to do was survive six months with him.

By eight that evening, Nora had unpacked her belongings and arranged her books on the desk. The apartment had remained quiet, and she was beginning to think living with Liam might be manageable.

Then the front door burst open, and loud voices filled the kitchen.

Three guys wearing team jackets gathered around the island. A tall blond with a friendly grin noticed Nora first.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed.

Liam, who had been searching through the pantry, stopped what he was doing. When he turned and spotted Nora, the relaxed expression on his face disappeared.

“This is my new roommate, Nora,” he said.

All three men stared at her, making Nora regret leaving her bedroom.

The blond grinned. “You forgot to mention that your roommate was cute, Carter.”

Liam's jaw tightened. “Go home, Jake.”

“Why? I'm just saying hello.”

The man standing beside Jake nodded politely at Nora. “I'm Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nora replied.

“She moved in today,” Liam said, directing his attention toward his teammates. “Leave her alone.”

Jake raised both hands. “All right. I'm only being friendly.”

He headed toward the door, bumping Liam's shoulder as he passed.

“Six a.m. practice,” Jake reminded him. “Don't be late. Coach is already angry about your wrist.”

“I won't be late,” Liam assured him.

The door clicked shut behind them, and their voices faded as they descended the stairs.

Nora turned toward Liam. “You're definitely nicer to your friends.”

“I'm not nice to you?” he asked.

“No. Not particularly.”

Liam chuckled. “That's too bad.”

Nora headed into the kitchen for water and opened the refrigerator. An entire shelf held identical green sports drinks arranged in neat rows. Beside them sat several containers of plain chicken and rice.

She stared at the drinks. “Why do you have six bottles of the same thing?”

“Because I like them,” Liam replied.

“You've taken over an entire shelf.”

“It's called organization.”he replied

“It's called an obsession.”

Liam grinned. “You're learning fast.”

Nora grabbed a bottle of water, closed the refrigerator, and turned around.

Liam stood directly behind her.

They were barely a step apart.

His teasing expression faded as his gaze moved over her face and settled on the bruise darkening her cheek. His eyes dropped to her injured knee before stopping at her right hand, which gripped the water bottle.

Her knuckles were swollen, and the skin across them had split.

“Those injuries aren't from unpacking,” he observed quietly.

“I'm clumsy,” Nora replied.

“You're many things, Shaw, but clumsy isn't one of them.”

She looked away without answering and said "We just met carter"

“How many?” he asked completely ignoring what she said.

Nora glanced at him, surprised by the question. He hadn't asked who had hurt her or what had happened. He wanted to know how many people had been involved.

“Five,” she admitted before she could stop herself.

Something dark flickered in his expression before disappearing. Liam opened the refrigerator, retrieved a gel ice pack from the door, and placed it in her palm.

“Did they take your bag?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good.” His fingers lingered against hers for a moment before he released the ice pack. “Next time someone puts their hands on you, call me.”

Nora raised an eyebrow. “I don't have your number.”

“Give me your phone.”

She hesitated before handing it to him.

Liam entered his number, saved the contact, and returned the phone.

“Now you do.”

Their fingers brushed as she took it from him.

“Thanks,” Nora said quietly. She stepped away and headed toward the hallway. “Goodnight, Liam.”

He remained by the refrigerator, watching her leave.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he replied.

Nora couldn't sleep.

At midnight, she abandoned her attempt to rest and walked to the window. Her bedroom overlooked the street, where a black sedan sat beneath the dead streetlight with its engine switched off.

It was the same car.

An orange glow appeared inside the vehicle before fading. Someone was smoking.

Then the figure behind the windshield turned toward her window.

Nora stepped back from the glass.

“Close the curtain,” Liam ordered.

She spun around. He stood in her doorway with one hand resting against the frame. His expression was unusually serious, and the light from the hallway cast shadows across his face.

“How long has that car been there?” she asked.

“Close the curtain, Nora.”

It was the first time he had said her name as though it were an order.

Uneasy, she pulled the curtain shut.

“Do you know who's inside?” she asked.

“Go to sleep.”

“Liam—”

“Lock your door,” he interrupted.

He left before she could ask another question.

Nora listened as his footsteps receded down the hallway. A moment later, she heard a click from the front door.

She counted each sound in the darkness.

Three locks on the front door of a hockey player's apartment.

Nora stood motionless beside her bed, wondering what kind of person needed that much protection.

Six months, she reminded herself. No drama.

That had been the plan.

Now, she wasn't sure how she would survive the first night.