Page 73 of The Roommate Remodel

“That’s what a loyal girlfriend would do,” Leo says, as if he can read my thoughts. “Unless she’s not all in.”

What is that supposed to mean?

Jaz strikes a big final pose and we all stumble to catch up.

“Good job, everyone!” Jaz chirps, turning to face us and clapping her hands. “We’ll add the skating tomorrow and go over the moves until we’ve all nailed it. Does anyone have questions?”

Dawson raises his hand. “Could you teach me that spinning move again?”

“Sure,” she says, moving closer to Dawson.

Even though Dawson is built like a monster truck, he’s got more rhythm than me. A surge of envy prickles down my spine. I don’t like the attention she’s giving him, even though he’s just asking for help.

Maybe it’s because Leo suggested the test with the jersey, and I already know Jaz hasn’t mentionednotwearing Lucian’s to the first game. I’m not a possessive guy, and I want Jaz to make this decision on her own. But I also want her to choose me. Chooseus.

I raise my hand. “Hey, could you show all of us how to do that move, or is Dawson the only one who gets a private lesson?”

Jaz looks at me. “Anyone else need help?”

Half the team raises their hands. Apparently, I’m not the only uncoordinated one.

Jaz sighs and checks her watch. “We’re out of time today. And we haven’t even practiced the modeling section. We’ll start withthat during tomorrow’s practice, and if anyone wants to volunteer to go first, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Brax will gladly volunteer,” Vale says with a chuckle.

I shoot him a scowl that says,I’m going to kick your butt on the ice later.

Jaz notes the look exchanged and gives me an apologetic smile. “Only if he wants to...”

“Sure. I mean, how bad could it be?” I say, trying to be a good sport.

“Can’t wait to see you strut your stuff,” Leo says, smacking my injured shoulder.

“Thanks,” I grumble, rubbing my shoulder.

I definitely can’t strut, and now I just volunteered to be the first model.

“Stand still,” Jaz instructs as she stretches out a measuring tape across my shoulders.

“So bossy,” I tease, trying not to wince as I lift my arms.

“You want the jersey to fit or not? This is all about making you look good.” She stretches the measuring tape, her fingertips grazing my skin, sending a sizzle of electricity down my body.

“I didn’t know we needed help to look good,” I tease.

“Youdon’t,” she says, playfully smacking me in the abs.

I rub my stomach. “Hey, watch it, Princess. Those are my abs.”

“I know,” she says. “People love your abs, which is why I’m highlighting all your good assets.”

“People as inyou?”I lift an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says with a smirk. “Now, shoulders back, Big Mac.” This time, I can’t hide the pain from today’s practice as I adjust my sore shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asks, dropping the tape and studying me.

“Yes,” I lie, straightening my face. The only thing saving me isher close proximity and the smell of her perfume drifting over me like a drug. If I focus on that, I can ignore the pain.

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