And if this kid had another option I wouldn’t try to be one now. 

But for once I’m going to step up. 

I’ll right the worst of old wrongs. 

I’ll pretend this last name of mine is something decent instead of a legacy of hard-core criminals. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of my sins. 

I do know it wouldn't be wise to get close enough to find out. 

Into this chaos walks Isabella Gentry. 

She was warned to keep her distance from me. 

I was the one who warned her. 

She’s beautiful. She’s headstrong. She’s spoiled as hell. 

And she’s my freaking roommate. 

Half of me wants to turn her world upside down in the cruelest way imaginable. 

The other half wants to worship the ground she walks on. 

This can go one of two ways. 

Either I’ll decide to be the worst version of myself. 

Or I’ll surrender the past in order to build a future. 

And maybe along the way I’ll prove something. 

That the guy everyone loves to hate might be redeemable yet...

She does. She throws her wine in my face. Or at least she tries to. The flick of her wrist comes up short when I rear back and the wine splashes on the floor, leaving her standing there with a stupid empty glass and a puzzled expression. That should have worked, her pretty eyes say. Why is this jackass not covered in my wine backwash? 

There’s no effort required to pluck the glass out of her hand. I toss it in the sink, where it promptly shatters. 

“Hey,” she complains. “That was Waterford crystal, you dick.” 

I chuckle and close in, aware that I’m hard and getting harder. “That’s your whole problem, Isabella.” 

Her eyes flash. Her lips pout. In another second she’ll be stamping her bare foot. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“This.” I run a hand low, over the shape of my cock. She can see the rigid outline through my shorts. I know she can. She sucks in a corner of her lower lip and jerks her head to force her eyes away. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

I chuckle. “You wish you thought so.”