Page 50 of Resisting my Roommate

Abbey’s talking to a guy in a suit, which normally wouldn’t cause the hair on my nape to stand on end. But there’s something about him that has me on edge. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. Don’t like her defensive stance.

When she attempts to retreat and he grabs her, every rational thought I possess goes out the window.

Pushing past my brother, I storm out of the brewhouse, my sole focus on one thing and one thing only. Getting to Abbey.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ABBEY

“Carson?” My voice is barely above a whisper as I stare into his eyes in complete shock.

How is he here?

Am I imagining this?

It can’t be real.

But when his grip on my arm tightens, I know itisreal.

“Surprised to see me?” He smirks, his tone laced with amusement as he releases his grip on me, adjusting the tie of his designer suit, not a single thread out of place.

“What are you doing here?” I take a small step back.

“I’m in Tahoe for a meeting and thought I’d use the opportunity to pick up the car you stole.”

I open my mouth to remind him it was a gift, but he cuts me off.

Much like he often did during our relationship.

“I’ve heard good things about this beer, so I decided to stop in. Imagine my surprise when I saw you working here. What are the chances?” Based on the conniving grin curling on his lips, he knew I’d be here. That I’ve been working here.

“I need to get back to work.” I attempt to push past him, but he blocks my path.

“Hasn’t this gone on long enough?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This little temper tantrum. I get it. You’re pissed. You want me to grovel? Fine.” He places his hands together, pretending to be remorseful. “I made a mistake and it won’t happen again. Please forgive me.” His words come out rushed and devoid of any regret.

“Forgive you?” I throw my head back and laugh. “You fucked my best friend, Carson. Ten minutes before we were supposed to get married. When I broke things off, you canceled all my cards and reported the car you gave me as stolen.”

“Stop being so dramatic. I apologized, so let’s move on and try again.”

“Try again?” I repeat. He’s more delusional than I thought.

Or narcissistic.

“Do you really want to work in a bar? I can provide for you.”

“You should be happy I ran out on you. Now you’re free to stick your dick in anyone you want without ramifications.”

“It’s not that easy,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Sure it is,” I say nonchalantly. “Insert peg A into slot B. Would you like me to draw you a picture?”

“Enough with the jokes, Abbey…”

Jaw ticking, he grabs my arm, his nostrils flaring with barely contained frustration. This time his grip on me is harsh, causing me to wince.

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