The Hockey Roommate's Filthy Desire novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Chapter 92

ARIA’S POV

The silence stretched a second too long.

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I cleared my throat softly, the sound breaking whatever invisible tension had settled between us. It was subtle, but it worked. Almost immediately, Brandon’s gaze shifted away, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Excuse me.” he muttered, his tone back to its usual calm, controlled state.

And just like that, he walked past me and disappeared into the bathroom.

The door closed behind him.

I stood there for a moment, my heart still beating a little faster than normal, my fingers tightening slightly around the towel wrapped around my body.

What was that?

I exhaled slowly, shaking my head as if that would somehow clear the strange feeling lingering in my chest. Then I moved quickly, almost hurriedly, toward my suitcase.

I pulled out my night robe and slipped it on, tying it securely around my waist. But even as I did, I could feel the warmth still sitting on my cheeks.

It was ridiculous.

I wasn’t some shy teenager. I had been through worse, seen worse, lived through things that should have made moments like that insignificant.

And yet, I pressed my lips together, turning away from the mirror as if avoiding my own reflection would help. The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled my attention back.

I looked up before I could stop myself. And instantly wished I hadn’t.

Brandon stepped out, water still clinging to his skin, droplets trailing down his chest and disappearing beneath the waistband of the towel wrapped low around his hips.

My breath hitched. I turned my head quickly. Too quickly. But not before I saw enough. I swallowed, focusing very hard on absolutely nothing in front of me.

Don’t look. It was a simple instruction. One I failed almost immediately. Because a second later, my eyes betrayed me, flickering back in his direction.

Just a glance. Quick. Harmless. Except it wasn’t.

Because I did it again. And again. Each time telling myself it was the last.

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12:22 Thu, May 14 N

Chapter 92

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Until, “Aria.” I froze. Slowly, I turned my head and found him watching me. There was no confusion in his expression. No uncertainty. Just quiet amusement. Like he had been aware the entire time.

Heat rushed to my face instantly. “I wasn’t-“I started, but the words died before I could finish them.

His lips curved slightly. “You can look,” he said casually.

My cheeks burned even hotter. “I wasn’t looking.”

“Of course not,” The way he said it made it worse.

I turned away again, this time refusing to give in no matter what. I focused on the bed, on adjusting the sheets, on anything that would keep my attention away from him.

By the time I risked another glance, he had already put on his night robe. Relief came quickly.

But then something else followed.

Because instead of joining me, he walked past the bed and sat on the couch. I frowned slightly. “You’re not sleeping?” I asked.

“I am,” he replied simply, leaning back.

“On the couch?”

“Yes.”

Something about that didn’t sit right with me. “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

He didn’t respond immediately.

“I mean it,” I added, turning slightly to face him. “You don’t need to inconvenience yourself because of me.”

His gaze shifted to me, thoughtful. Then, slowly, “Are you asking me to join you?”

My breath caught. “That’s not-” I paused, then exhaled. “I just don’t like the idea of you sleeping uncomfortably because of me.”

His brow lifted slightly. “And you trust me?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard. But I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” The answer came out quietly. Honestly. Something flickered in his eyes at that.

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You shouldn’t trust me, Aria.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze settling on me in a way that made my chest tighten. “Have you seen yourself?” he asked.

I blinked. “What does that-

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12:22 Thu, May 14 N

Chapter 92

55 vouchers

“The man who left you,” he interrupted, his voice quieter now, “was a fool.” I stilled. “You’re…” He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“…the sexiest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.” My breath caught. “And I don’t trust myself,” he added calmly, “to lie next to you and not do something stupid.”

The silence that followed was thick, heavy and impossible to ignore. My cheeks burned so intensely I was sure it showed.

I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to respond. So I didn’t.

I just turned away slowly, pulling the blanket over myself as if that would somehow hide the reaction written all over my face.

And for the rest of the night, neither of us said anything more.

The next morning was chaotic. There was no other word for it. “Turn this way-no, not like that!”

“Stand still, please!”

“Your hair-oh my God, don’t touch your hair!”

I stood in the middle of the room, completely overwhelmed as the stylist moved around me like I was some kind of project that needed urgent fixing.

“I am standing still,” I muttered.

“Not enough,” he replied dramatically, adjusting the fabric of the dress.

The dress. It was beautiful. Elegant. Fitted perfectly to my body, accentuating my shape in a way that felt both unfamiliar and striking.

But right now, I didn’t have time to process any of that. Because apparently, standing still wasn’t my only job. “Your makeup,” he said, already reaching for another brush.

“I think that’s enough,” I tried.

“It’s not,” he replied instantly. I sighed quietly, letting him continue. Across the room, Brandon was already dressed.

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