Page 13 of The Roommate Remodel

She gives me a hard stare—the kind full of pointy daggers she’d like to throw at my head. We both know this is a terrible excuse. Hockey might consume my life, but I wasn’t too busy to call her. I just can’t explain my reasons now. Especially when she’s mad.

“Hockeylife?” She nods in that deliberate way that women do when they’re really ticked off. “Guess I’ll use that asmyexcuse from now on.”

Now I’m the one who’s confused. “Are you coming to the games?”

“Absolutely.” She gives me a smug half-grin, and there’s a gleam in her eye that unsettles me. “I’m even planning on wearing a team jersey.”

“Really?” I say skeptically, confused by this new game we’re playing. “Whose?”

Lucian walks in from outside and catches me in the kitchen. “I see you’ve met Jaz.”

I don’t take my eyes off her. “Yes, we’ve met.”

She turns to the team captain and says sweetly, “Lucian, thanks again for offering your jersey to wear to the first game.”

“Any time.” He smiles at her, totally unaware of our history.

She doesn’t glance at me. Doesn’t even blink a pretty little eyelash.

Just flashes him a smile as syrupy as sweet tea. “Anytime, huh? Might have to take you up on that.”

The frustration rises to boiling inside my chest.

“Jaz,” I growl like a warning.

She turns and shrugs casually. “What?”

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

And it’s totally working.

She might not ever give me another chance.

But no way will I let Jazlyn wear anyone’s jersey but mine.

FOUR

Jaz

Iswivel around and leave a stunned Brax in the kitchen, the heat of his stare burning me with every step.

As soon as I’m out of eyesight, I slip into the back hall and hide in the pantry closet, covering my mouth to muffle any sounds as I double over in laughter.

That was totally worth it.Brax’s face looked like a steam engine about to careen off a bridge.

And he fully deserved it.

Nine months ago, Brax promised me he would call. Then the weeks stretched on without a single attempt. I texted him a few times.

Jaz:Thinking about that night we hid in the closet. I miss those kebabs. Think your sister ever found out?

Then I waited for the text bubble. Some sign of life. It never came.

Jaz:Just wondering if I have the right number? The “best kisser ever” put his phone number in my contacts. If you don’t claim it now, the title reverts to someone else.

Surprisingly, no response. And then that ugly, gnawing feeling that I was being ignoredon purpose.Steeling myself to write one last message, my thumb hovered over the send button for a few agonizing seconds.

Jaz:Brax, I’ll take your silence as the only answer I need. Have a good life!

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