The Ground Beneath Our Feet

So maybe I've been sheltered, but what a way to open up my eyes. Walking in on my new, allegedly "professional," man-mountain roommate doing the nasty with some woman.

Eye bleach. Please.

I've got enough to worry about with my new job in a new city, and even worse, my new health diagnosis.

So maybe my curves have gotten a little out of control. But If I can't escape my demons with cookies, I'm sure I can learn to cope. I've got a plan.

Go to work. Come home. Diet fiercely. Exercise religiously.

Don't pay any attention to that tattooed hottie with a bigger-than-life personality. He's just someone I found online, and I only need him to rent a room to me until I find my own place. After that, I can say goodbye to Dr. Michael Tate, the veterinarian, and his menagerie of animals.

And his secret side.

Except when you live with someone as magnetic as him, things go a little awry.