Shared House With My Biker Nemesis

Shared House With My Biker Nemesis

radelme1 · Ongoing · 107.4k Words

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Introduction

“Still hate me, Quinn?”

“More than yesterday, less than tomorrow”

Purple Quinn spent years rebuilding her life after the accident.

The last person she expected to see again was Harry Bords—the reckless boy who turned her pain into a joke.
Now he’s Roonie’s most famous biker and playboy
And also her housemate

Living under one roof with him becomes a job, constantly annoying each other, proving who hates who more and also trying not to fall in love.

Hating each other was easy
But ignoring the way he looked at her? Impossible.

Chapter 1

Purple's POV:

Before packing my life into a suitcase and moving to Roonie, I did my research. This town runs on three things: cheap pizza, loud bikers, and teenagers making choices they’ll definitely regret in ten years.

I quickly realized the internet didn’t lie. In just five minutes of being here, my ears and eyes had already been assaulted. It was late, but apparently, these people thought the moon coming out was a signal to strip down in the street and have fun with girls who had clearly lost their minds to cheap vodka.

Disgusting.

I shoved my glasses up the bridge of my nose and stared out the taxi window as we sped away from the airport.

“Miss, is this your first time in Roonie?” the driver asked, humming along to some aggressive street rap.

“Hmm,” I nodded, fingers flying across my phone to let my mom know I’d arrived. Not that she actually cared, but it was a habit.

“Need some tips?” he asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. I sighed. Maybe a heads-up would help.

“Look left and right before crossing the road.”

I blinked. Wasn't that basic survival logic for every human on earth? “Why…?” I started to ask, but the question was cut off by a blur of noise. Several bikes roared past us at a speed that made the taxi shake. I couldn't even tell what color they were.

They were absolutely insane.

The driver just laughed and pulled over in front of an apartment building. “We’re here. 23 Avenue.”

This was the place. Finding a spot in Roonie had been a nightmare, and after weeks of searching, I’d landed this shared house. My mom had pushed for a girls-only dorm, but that was a unicorn in this town. I had to settle for mixed gender.

-

I rang the doorbell until my thumb hurt. No one came. I moved to the window and yelled "Hello?" like a lunatic, but my voice was swallowed by the bass thumping from the house next door. Every single building I'd passed since the airport seemed to be hosting a rager. Was this just a typical Sunday night here?

Finally, after knocking until my knuckles were raw, the doorknob turned.

A guy stood there, looking like he’d just been resurrected from a deep sleep. He squinted at me, his hazel eyes clouded with confusion. “The party is next door,” he muttered, starting to close the door.

“And my bed is in there,” I said, pointing past him.

He paused, a brow arching. Then, the gears turned. “Oh. New housemate?”

“Yeah.” I was just relieved he hadn't shut me out. He chuckled softly and stepped back, helping me lug my last suitcase inside. “We were expecting you at seven.”

“My flight was delayed.” I scanned the room. It was big and surprisingly warm, though the scattered beer bottles on the floor weren't in the online photos.

“You missed the party,” he yawned, leading me down a corridor. “The others took the chaos somewhere else.”

Thank God.

I didn't need a welcome committee of drunks. He stopped at the second door on the right. “Your room. Goodnight.”

“Wait!” I called out before he could disappear back into his cave. “Shouldn’t you tell me the rules or something?”

He scoffed, running a hand through a mess of curly brown hair. “Leone will do that in the morning. For now, just… fit in.” Then he was gone.

I stood there, staring at the empty hallway. Who was Leone? He hadn't even asked for my name.

I settled into my room. The bed was round and tucked near the window, which I actually liked, and it had a small attached bathroom. Everything was fine, if I could just ignore the muffled shouting from next door.

Roonie was going to be the death of me.

-

The next morning, my internal clock hit me at 7:00 AM sharp. I didn’t even need a real alarm. I freshened up, slipped into a black midi stress and sandals, and pulled my purple hair into a messy bun using a ribbon from my wrist. First day of college—I couldn't be late for English.

As I walked toward the sitting room, I heard loud laughter. I adjusted my glasses and turned the corner.

The guy from last night, tall with curly hair, was standing on the couch, holding a bowl of cereal high above his head while a girl with copper-red hair jumped to reach it.

“Give it back, Chris!” she snapped, though she looked more annoyed than angry.

“It’s just cereal Etsy, let me have a it.”

“I’d rather give it to a dog!” she yelled. After many failed attempts to retrieve her breakfast, she gave up, turned away, and stopped dead when she saw me. A wide smile broke across her face. “Oh! You’re the new housemate, right?”

She rushed over and pulled me into a rib-crushing hug. “You have no idea how happy I am that it’s another girl.”

I laughed, slightly breathless, as she let go. She dragged me toward a girl with long, straight black hair sitting by the kitchen counter. She had a headset on and was focused on a plate of pancakes.

“Leone, have you met the new girl?” Etsy—the redhead—asked, clinging to my arm.

The girl, Leone, pulled her headset down. Her eyes were captivating, a deep shade that sat somewhere between black and brown. She gave me a calm, welcoming smile. “Hello. I’m Leone.”

Etsy bumped my shoulder. “What’s your name? We heard you’re a freshman. What’s the major?”

I felt a wave of relief, I was a little scared they won’t like me since I heard they were all sophomores. They seemed normal. Fun, even. Maybe Chris was the only headache I’d have to deal with.

“Purple Quinn. I’m an accounting major.”

“The smart one, huh?” Etsy laughed, offering a hand. “I’m Etsy. Animation major. I’m not exactly a genius, but hey, I can draw.”

“What’s all the noise for?”

A hoarse, low voice cut through the room from behind me.

“It’s not loud. Those late-night drugs just sharpened your hearing,” Etsy shot back. The others laughed, but as I slowly turned around.

The tall figure leaning against the doorway pushed messy blond hair away from his eyes, revealing those familiar blue eyes.

The smile died on my face..

No way.

No fucking way.

It was him.

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