Page 3 of End Game

“About needing a roommate?” I clear my throat. Take a few steps forward, curious to see the inside of the house. Are there enough bedrooms? A decent-size kitchen? I’ll take a sleeping bag on the bathroom floor if I have to. I can’t be picky right now. “I, um, I happen to know someone who needs a room.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

Chapter Two

EVERLEIGH

They’re quiet, all three of them sharing a quick look before Handsome steps forward, that gorgeous smile appearing on his face once more. Pretty sure he’s trying to disarm me with it. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t want to room with us. What would your boyfriend think?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, vaguely offended he called me a pretty girl. It almost seems patronizing there for a minute and definitely not like a compliment.

“Oh.” He shares a look with his friends before returning his attention to me. “We’ve never roomed with a woman before, so maybe it’s a bad idea.”

“Why is it a bad idea?” I raise a single brow, resting my hands on my hips. Trying to appear braver than I feel. “From what I heard, it sounds like you need a roommate, and I need a room.”

“You do realize school starts in four days.” He tilts his head, watching me carefully. “Move-in officially started yesterday. And you don’t have a room arranged already?”

I get why he’s asking questions. I probably look like a dumbass to these guys, and maybe I am, but it’s not my fault everything fell apart on me. I’m just having a serious bout of bad luck.

Like ... really bad luck. But they could turn everything around for me if we can make this work.

“I had a room rented, but it all fell through yesterday.” I lift my chin, swallowing hard when I notice the way his observant gaze skims over me from head to toe. “So now I’m on the hunt for whatever I can find. A room, a bed, a couch. One roommate, twenty roommates. I just need somewhere to live. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes?” Now it’s his turn to raise his eyebrows.

I’m blushing. I can feel the heat warm my cheeks. “I don’t mean it like that ...”

“Like what?” His smile grows, if that’s even possible, and now I realize he’s teasing me. At my expense.

I sort of hate that.

“Can you cook?” asks the muffin guy with a hopeful expression on his face.

Handsome sends him a scathing look. “We’re not hiring her to cook for us.”

“What if she can, though? That would be kind of nice, right? None of us can cook for shit.” Muffin Man smiles at me, his brows lifting. He’s not as charming as the other one, but he seems pleasant enough. My heart rate doesn’t ratchet up when he aims that smile at me, not like with the other guy. “Can you?”

I nod slowly, not about to give away all my cards yet. I’ve been cooking dinner for my mom and grandma for years. Grandma taught me everything she knew and gave me a bunch of her recipes. “I can.”

I’m not a gourmet chef, but I doubt that’s what these guys are looking for. And if cooking meals is a part of the deal, my class schedule allows for it. I have no night classes this semester. They’re all on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, giving me ample time to find a job, which I need to do ASAP.

After finding a place to live first, of course.

“Then the room is yours,” Muffin Man says firmly, earning a slap in the chest from Handsome. “Come on. Why wouldn’t you want her to live here?”

They form a huddle right there on the porch, with me standing on the sidewalk watching them, and I wish I could hear what they were saying. The coffee in my stomach sloshes around, reminding me I didn’t eat anything beyond a quick, cheap hamburger—not a cheeseburger, which I prefer, but I’m trying to save money here—from McDonald’s for dinner last night, and I’m starting to feel a little queasy.

“Want to come look inside?” the quietest one finally asks me, and the relief that floods my system nearly has me stumbling over my own feet as I head toward the porch of what could possibly be my future home.

“Sure.” I keep my voice purposely nonchalant, entering the house as he holds the front door open for me.

They all follow me inside, crowding behind me as I stop and take in the living room. There’s a brown leather couch with a matching love seat, and they’re both a little worn, as is the beat-up coffee table and the end table, which has a basic lamp sitting on top of it. The giant TV hanging on the wall looks brand new, though, and there’s a game console on the stand just below it, along with a couple of controllers.

I can see what their priorities are. Not a surprise.

There is nothing hanging on the white walls. No curtains on the windows, just basic white blinds. There’s nothing in here to make this place very homey. But it appears relatively clean, so that’s a bonus.

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