Page 12 of End Game

Again, no thank you. I’m done dating women until I at least graduate from college.

Done.

“Think she’s going to work out as our roommate?” Coop asks, changing the subject.

Everleigh’s pretty face pops into my brain, but I banish it quickly. I need to follow the same advice I gave Dollar. “Sure. Why wouldn’t she?”

“She’s cute. Seems nice enough. Plus she’s in a tough situation. That’s always appealing. The damsel in distress or whatever.” Cooper chuckles. “Looking forward to someone cooking for us, though. Maybe not as much as Dollar is, but still.”

“Right. That’s not a bad deal.” I shrug.

“Still can’t believe you offered to share your bathroom with her. What were you thinking?” He bursts out laughing while I scowl at him. “All her girlie shit is going to be spread out on your counter.”

Hell, I didn’t even think about that. “It’s a pretty big counter.”

“What if she hand-washes her lacy bras and dries them by draping them over the shower rod? Then you gotta stare at her sexy underwear every time you take a piss.” He’s still laughing, and I know he’s enjoying giving me shit. “And what if you’re fucking some hot girl and right when she’s about to scream your name, in walks our new roomie, eager to get to her nightly bathroom routine?”

“You know that won’t fly,” I retort. Coop smothers his laughter with a big hand while I toss a packet of parmesan cheese left over from the pizza we ate for dinner last night at him. “Not like I have girls over that often, anyway.”

“Not after the last one,” Coop oh-so-kindly reminds me.

“She cured me from having anyone over ever again.” The problem with inviting women into your home is they start imagining it as their home. Next thing you know, she’s getting a few bright ideas about decorating it. Burning a candle and shit. Starts leaving her things “accidentally.” Her clothes are on top of your dresser, and there are tampons in the bathroom ...

Well, shit. There’s going to be tampons in my bathroom for the next nine months, thanks to me sharing it with Everleigh.

“What if you’re like ... jerking off in bed and she comes into the room in the middle of the night to pee? What are you going to do then?” Cooper raises his brows, clearly enjoying this.

My mind immediately goes to Everleigh offering to help when she catches me jerking off, and I banish that idea completely. “I don’t jerk off in the middle of the night.”

“If you tell me right now that you get so much pussy, you don’t need to jerk off, I’m calling bullshit,” Coop says with a laugh.

“If you have to know, I prefer jerking off in the shower,” I tell him, which only makes Coop laugh harder. To the point that I’m laughing with him because I can’t stay mad at the guy for too long.

And he’s making valid points. I offered Everleigh my bathroom because I felt sorry for her. The look of pure horror on her face at the idea of sharing a bathroom with Coop and Dollar—yeah, gross, they’re complete slobs—had me piping up without even thinking.

The utter relief I saw on her face once I did was worth saying it.

Maybe.

Shit, I don’t know. I can’t get too caught up in her looks, because she is definitely attractive, with the shoulder-length dark hair and bright-blue eyes and lush pink lips. Nice body, long legs that looked damn good in those denim shorts she was wearing. A little shyer than what I’m usually drawn to, but she’s dealing with a lot at the moment, so I can get that.

But I’m not interested in that. In her. I can’t be.

It’s my turn to change the subject.

“Look, I kind of like that we can help her out,” I tell Coop, who sobers up immediately. “But we should probably establish some rules with her, don’t you think?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It’s just—I’ve never lived with a woman before.”

“We were in the coed dorms.” Cooper knows this because this was how we became close our freshman year. We were in the same dorm building.

“Big difference. I didn’t share a room with a girl, and neither did you.”

“You have a sister.”

“Who’s much older than I am. By the time I was ten, she’d moved out.” We’re not close. She lives in Manhattan and works for a big PR firm. She doesn’t have time for her little brother. Too busy living her fast-paced life. Much like our dad.

---