Page 12 of The Roommate Remodel

“You weren’t the only one who got that warning,Princess,” I shoot back.

Her eyes widen for a second. Apparently, she didn’t expect Mia to have warned me not to dateher.

But did I listen?Absolutelynot. I couldn’t rip my eyes away from her that night. And truth is, I like to play with danger.

We’ve both got stubbornness in spades. Which is why Mia was vehemently opposed to us dating.

She’s like a match. I’m like the rough end of a matchbox. We’ll either light something on fire or burn everything down.

She shakes her head. “Brax, this willneverwork.”

“We don’t have to like each other. We just have to live together. I can stand anything for a few weeks.”

“But I can’t live withyou.We’re arguing right now, and you haven’t been here five minutes.”

“I’ve been here fifteen,” I correct.

She rolls her eyes. “See? We can’t even agree on how long we’ve been arguing.”

Who knew that arguing with a beautiful woman would feel like an exhilarating challenge? Like the more she pushes me away, the more I want to pull her close?

“You know what I think, Jazlyn?” I move closer to her,shrinking the gap between us. “That you like arguing with me. Underneath, I drive you just a little bit crazy. In a good way.”

“More like you drive me insane.” She pushes me backward. “Go away, Brax.”

“I don’t think you mean that.”

She shoots me a look that makes me worried she’d like to kick me in the crotch. “Oh, I really think I do.”

“Then prove it.”

She props a hand on her hip and frowns. “If I had a poison dart gun, I’d be aiming it at you right now. Then I’d chop your body into a thousand pieces and scatter it in the ocean as fish food.”

I give her an infuriating grin. “I’ll tell that to our children someday.”

She huffs and turns away. “You’re a thorn in my you-know-what.”

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” I say. It doesn’t hurt that she’s wearing a shirt-dress paired with boots that skim the hemline, showing off a tiny strip of light brown skin, which I’m trying to avoid looking at.

She glares at me. “See? This is why you can’t live here. You make comments like that. There’s too much history between us, Brax.” Her eyes level on my face. “We both know that.”

She’s not referring to the kiss, although our chemistry is definitely a complicated problem. It’s the way I handled things afterward.

Right now, it looks like she’d be thrilled to use my body as a punching bag.

I take another step toward her. “Maybe we can start over. Forget what happened.”

“Forget?” She steps back, raises her eyebrows, and I realize the mistake I’ve made.

She thinks I mean forget the kiss. Forgetus.When the truth is exactly the opposite:I could never forget her.

“So is that what happened?” she says in a voice that’s mostdefinitely annoyed with me. “You forgot about me after your sister’s wedding?”

I rub my hand over my jaw. “No, ma’am,” I mumble, but there’s no way to gloss over this problem. I messed up how I handled things.Big-time.

How can I explain that I had my reasons, even if she won’t understand them? And that seeing her again sparks my attraction for her.

Instead, I fumble. “Hockey life isn’t exactly conducive to maintaining long-distance relationships.”

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