Page 47 of Hard to Take

“Roomie.” His brows lift, the corners of his mouth too. “You don’t like me calling you ‘Roomie,’” he teases.

His tone makes me frown. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.” He looks both ways before stepping closer, capturing my hands in his. His lips brush my cheek, trace my jaw. “I could call you Princess.”

A shiver runs through me and I make a non-committal sound.

“I could call you mine.” His teeth graze my throat and I melt.

The hooking up is addictive, but more than that, the crush I swore I’d get over isn’t retreating—if anything, it’s deepening.

Sneaking around is hot, but I can’t pretend that all I’m feeling is the thrill.

“There a reason Rookie keeps looking at you with dreamy eyes?” Miles murmurs.

“He saved my posts as his phone wallpaper.”

“For real? Shit. Dude’s got a hard screen coming in practice tomorrow.”

His mouth brushes mine.

Surprise has my brows lifting.

Is Miles Garrett jealous?

He might’ve acted like it before, but this is the first time he’s admitted as much.

I’ve never known my brother’s friend to get jealous over a woman, or possessive.

The sound of laughter from around the corner jolts us both out of our haze.

“I’m glad someone likes the posts,” I murmur.

I regret saying anything when Miles frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just a lot of haters. It’s fine. It happens with most posts, and it happens more to women who look like me.”

He releases me with one hand to pull up the post on his phone. He reads, his mouth tightening the further he goes.

“This is bullshit.”

His reaction triggers the cascade of thoughts I’ve been repeating to myself like mantras.

“Having dissenting views isn’t strictly a bad thing. It helps the algorithm.”

“Fuck the algorithm.”

My lips curve at the way he defends me. “Fuck the algorithm,” I agree.

“That’s right. You’re beautiful in and out of everything. If you forget, I’m going to remind you later. Repeatedly.” Miles tugs on my hair before releasing me.

I watch him head into the bathroom, glancing back at me with a wink.

“See you later, Roomie.”

* * *

“Something’s wrong with my Instagram,” Nova says as we walk down 16th Street.

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