Hot Roommate Novels & Stories

I saw my college roommate send a voice message into a group chat. I watched his screen as our four other roommates responded. However, there were no notifications on my phone. That was when I realized the five of them had created a group without me. In that group, they complained about me being a dumb rich kid, cursed my mom for being a homewrecker, and secretly took nude photographs of me. They were even planning to drug me and give me to a older rich woman for her entertainment. I covered all their meals, drinks, and living expenses, yet they dared to betray me? Fine. I would show them the true rage of a trust fund kid!

I was his disposable wife for four years… until I became his brother’s favorite sin. ************ I spent four years as a trophy wife with a secret: my life was a living hell. My husband used his billions to hide the bruises, and my family were too busy enjoying his money to care that I was breaking. But the night he left me for dead on the floor of our mansion, something snapped. I didn't cry or scream. I just grabbed my four-year-old daughter and ran.I thought I was free. When a gang snatched us off the street, I thought my husband would finally show a shred of humanity. Instead, he simply turned off his phone. I was seconds away from a bullet when Ethan Hilton stepped in. He’s cold, dangerous, and looks at me like he already owns me. He offered me a deal: a roof over our heads, and safety in exchange for working as his secretary. I thought I’d found a guardian angel, until I realized who he really is.Ethan isn't just a stranger. He’s the stepbrother my husband hates, the family secret they tried to erase.Now, I’m trapped in a house with a man who wants to use me to destroy the person I fear most. He doesn't just want my loyalty, he wants me breathless and broken on his desk, and even with my husband clawing to reclaim me, I’d rather burn in Ethan’s bed than spend another second in my husband's cage.

I was a familiar face in the police station. I often got into fights and would frequently be thrown into a detention cell. One day, while I was gaming in an arcade, Captain Zimmer showed up again. I was stunned for a few seconds. “Did I beat someone up again? I don’t remember, though.” Captain Zimmer merely took his handcuffs out and put them on me. “Mindy Fawkes, you’re under arrest on suspicion of killing your dormmates.”

I was in the middle of hosting an important international meeting when my younger brother’s sudden call interrupted me. On the other end, his voice was low and trembling. "Matt, someone took my spot for the exchange student program." I rushed to his school right away, only to find him cornered in an office, his eyes slightly red. A cocky-looking boy was pointing at Tim’s nose, his face full of arrogance. "You want to compete with me? I’m the heir of the Smiths in Ardenford. My mom just donated an entire lab building to the school! Who do you think you are?" Even the teacher nearby spoke up in support of him. "Timothy, the Smiths are one of our school’s major benefactors. You’d better be sensible and not cause any trouble." I was about to step forward and confront them when those words—the Smiths in Ardenford—made me stop cold. The Smiths in Ardenford? Since when did my mom have a third son besides me and my brother, Timothy? I immediately dialed her number, a cold laugh slipping from my lips. "Mom, when did you have another son behind Dad’s back?"

My roommates booked a New Year's Eve light show table—five hundred per person—and started urging me in the group chat to transfer the money. I quietly sent a screenshot of my account balance. "You guys go ahead," I wrote. "I haven't even scraped together my tuition yet." They replied with a string of mocking "haha"s. Our dorm leader, Giselle Murdoch, even posted on her social media with the caption: [The first step to crossing class boundaries is distancing yourself from people who kill the mood.] Just after midnight, they sent me a photo from the light show and said, "Too bad you're not here." I frowned, confused, when my counselor's call cut in—her voice tight with urgency. "Did you invite your roommates to the light show? The organizers said they never even checked in! They're missing!"

I divorced Adrian Cross seven days before he died. I thought his silence meant he never loved me. I was wrong. At his funeral, his grandmother grabs my wrist. "You were the only thing he ever wanted." Then the letters. Dozens of them. Never sent. "I saw you long before you ever knew my name." Debts he paid off in secret. Enemies he destroyed without a word. A photo of me he carried for five years — before we ever met. I mourn a man I never actually knew. Then I find out he didn't die by accident. I go looking for the truth. The truth comes looking for me first. Dying, I only wish for one thing. One more chance to choose him. I open my eyes three years in the past. Same morning. Same contract on the table. Adrian, alive, asking if I'm ready to sign. I know what's coming this time — the danger, the silence, the divorce I'm never going to file again. I'm not walking away from him twice. I'm not losing him twice. This time, I choose Adrian Cross. Before it's too late to tell him so.

Lately, I've been having a weird dream consistently. In the dream, a man with a mole near the corner of one eye keeps telling me, "I miss you so much." But whenever I try to take a good look at him, I wake up from the dream. That is, until I spot the man in my dreams on a pop-up window featuring an advertisement that promotes chatting with AI bots. There, I personally craft every inch of that man, making him my perfect AI boyfriend. But right after I uninstall the app, he appears in my apartment in person.

Everything I built my life on for four years was a lie. Nathan Cole told his grandmother he was infertile. She begged me on her knees to marry him, and because she was the only family I had left after my parents died, I said yes. I gave up my own engagement for her. I became the devoted wife of a man the whole family pitied. For four years, I believed I couldn't have children. I mourned it quietly, never once making him feel less of a man because of it. I raised the little boy he brought home and told me was an orphan, loving him like he was my own. When Nathan's business "collapsed," I worked myself to exhaustion to hold our household together, feeding his family, carrying a debt that was never really mine. None of it was real. Nathan was never infertile. He just never wanted a family with me — so he made sure I never got pregnant, quietly, through the tea he made me every single night. The son I raised wasn't an orphan either. He was Nathan's, from another woman he didn't want to keep. And the money he claimed was gone had been going somewhere else all along — to a whole other family, three children deep, with a woman he actually loved. The infertility, the bankruptcy, the adoption — none of it was about me. It was all just his way of keeping me close without ever giving me the truth. He always believed I had nowhere else to go. No family, no options, just him. He was wrong. By the time he realized what I'd become, I was already gone — and someone who never lied to me was waiting with a ring.

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?

My husband’s friend’s widow uploaded a picture of her pregnancy report. [Thank you for letting me have my own baby.] I responded with a question mark when I saw Jake Green, my husband’s name, in the husband column. Jake immediately called me to yell at me. “She’s a widow and is living alone. All she wants is to have a baby to keep her company and give her life a little more cheer. How could you not show her even this bit of pity? “You know that Henry is my friend. It’s only right for me to take care of his wife after he died! This is called friendship, don’t you understand?!” Soon, Henry’s widow uploaded a photo of a loft apartment. [Thank goodness you’re by my side to let me experience the warmth of a family again.] When I saw Jake busying himself in the kitchen in the photo, I thought it was time to end the marriage.