Page 15 of The Roommate Remodel

“Oh, your lips just happened to land on Brax’s mouth by accident?” She lifts an eyebrow.

“I thought you were supposed to be on my side!” I huff. “Just for the record, he’s the one who deserves to be slapped.”

“You insulted Brax MacPherson. One of the best players in the leagueandour new houseguest.”

“Renter,” I correct. “I would never invite him over as my guest.”

She levels a look. “Be nice to him.”

“I refuse.”

She grabs my elbow, like she’s going to drag me out of here. “You don’t have a choice. We’re stuck with him now. You already signed the papers and handed them over to Lucian before he arrived.”

I yank my arm away. “But that’s before I knew who he was!”

She points a finger in my face. “You can’t back out now. We need the money or we can’t pay the mortgage. You told me so yourself.”

I push her finger away. “You don’t know what he did to me.”

“Is it really that terrible?”

I cross my arms. “Yes, it is.”

“Let me guess,” she says, tapping her chin. “He didn’t text you back.”

I frown. “Yeah, how did you know?”

My sister has the uncanny ability to guess things I’m hiding from her, which means it’s next to impossible to keep secrets. What’s worse, she’s a straight-talker and never lets me off easy.

She shakes her head. “Jazlyn, that’s just the way things are. When a guy doesn’t respond, it’s his way of letting you down easy.”

“Easy?” I shoot back, not understanding how she could be so flippant about rejection.

Her voice softens. “I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt, but it’s not...uncommon.”

I hate the way she says it, like my hurt isnotuniquely terrible. Like I should just accept that ALL men do this, and it’s the way things are.

Well, Irefuseto accept it.

I close my eyes and massage my temples. “I wouldn’t have kissed him if I thought it was a one-off.”

“Maybe think before you pucker up next time.”

I glower at her. “Your compassion amazes me.”

I’ve tried to push that kiss out of mind so many times, but for the last nine months, it’s tortured me nearly every day. Two people caught up in the moment, suddenly desperate for each other’s touch, believing we could find the same love that Mia and Jace had.

Sloan crosses her arms. “Weddings usually make people feel absurdly high on love or incredibly lonely. Which was he?”

“No.” I shake my head, her words pinching hard. It was more than a desperate, lonely grab at love. What we found was a deeper connection, something we both yearned for. “Hewasinto me.”

She doesn’t respond, just tilts her head, waiting for the truth to sink in. Her words taint the memory of that kiss, like someone took paper hearts and splattered black paint on them. The desperation of that kiss wasn’t because I was easy prey. It’s because he wanted something more with me. Somethingreal.

This wasn’t a lonely guy groping me in the dark. It wasn’t some bleary-eyed bar kiss.

It was a kiss to remember from a man who wanted to make sure I didn’t feel alone that night. Every touch was tender, like an invitation. He made me feel beautiful and special.

But looking back at the memory through Sloan’s eyes, I’m suddenly confused. The wedding and dancing and kissing all blur together, like a fuzzy photograph where the details are smudged out. Did he actually say how he felt? Or was I just the temporary bandage for his loneliness?

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