Page 72 of The Roommate Remodel

Jaz props her hands on her hips, not ready to give up yet. “Here’s the thing. I want to showcase your personalities. So find your mojo. Your good vibrations. And let loose, okay?”

“My mojo is punching people,” Rourke says.

A few guys snicker.

“We won’t be punching people,” Jaz says, shaking her head.

She turns on the music, and the guys hang back to watch.

“Try to do what I’m doing. We won’t be adding the skating yet, just the body movements.” She steps to the beat, instructing us to follow along.

Some guys move right instead of left and bump into the guy next to them.

If we can’t figure out this simple move, we’ll look like idiots in front of the entire city.

Even though I’m confident during games, I’ve never felt so inept in my life. It’s like my feet won’t go the right direction.

When I look around, I notice about half of the guys are just like me. Two left feet.

Jaz glances over her shoulder at us and calls out the motions. “Lift your arms. And don’t worry, you’ll be skating around the rink as you do these moves.” Then she adds jazz hands to it and I suddenly feel like I’ve been recruited into the Ice Capades.

Leo looks over at me and snickers. “Counting isn’t your problem. It’s the fact you have no rhythm and you’re distracted.”

Remarkably, he’s perfectly in step with Jaz. I had no idea Leo was this coordinated, and it makes me furious. “How’d you get it so fast?”

“What can I say?” He cocks his head. “I’m just talented. I also took dance lessons as a kid.” He’s like Fred Astaire in skates, and it makes me inwardly writhe in anger.

“At least I’m willing totry,”I say through gritted teeth.

He lowers his voice. “Only because she’s your girlfriend.”

My eyes flit over to Jaz as she spins to the right. “She’snotmy girlfriend.”

Not yet, anyway.

As she spins to the left, I notice how her hips sway in time to the music, making every move look good. If I wasn’t concentrating so hard on not tripping, I’d enjoy the view more.

Leo notices me staring and gives me a wicked grin. “You’ve got it bad for her.”

“You’re just jealous she doesn’t look twice at you, Ego,” I growl, missing a step and nearly crossing my own feet.

He juts out his chin. “I don’t need her to look twice at me. I’ve got girls lined up in my DMs.”

I roll my eyes. If I wasn’t trying to help Jaz, I’d take Leo down a couple of notches, or at least his Texas-belt-buckle-sized ego.

I’d like to see a woman come along and crush his tiny heart under her boot heel. It will take just the right one to tame a guy like him.

“If I were you,” Leo says, lowering his voice. “I’d test whether she’sreallyloyal to you.”

I glance at Jaz before looking back at Leo.

“She doesn’t need a test,” I reply cooly. Leo knows loyalty is my gold standard. I demand it from my teammates. And I’d require it from anyone who wants to earn my heart.

“I just want to see if you can do this,” Jaz says, switching to a hip-swiveling Latin move, and I suddenly feel as stiff as a grandma after hip surgery.

Leo follows her cha-cha steps flawlessly. Evenhis jazz hands are freakishly jazzy. He leans toward me. “Then prove it. See if she’ll wear your jersey to one of our games.”

“Why would that matter? A jersey isn’t proof of loyalty. She can make her own decisions. It’s just a shirt,” I mutter, remembering Lucian’s jersey and the agreement she made with him for the first game. I dropped my hint about her looking better in mine, but she’s never asked about it since. After the connection we made zip-lining and the date we had, that stings a little. Whywouldn’tshe wear mine?

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