Page 5 of The Roommate Remodel

“Ben and Jerry’s.”

“I saidflavor.”

“That is a flavor.All of them.”

He smiles at my answer. “Favorite color?”

“Pink.” I shoot him a look. “Don’t judge.”

“Who said I’m judging?” His eyes flick over my gown. “You look stunning in that dress tonight.” The compliment spreads like white-hot fire through my veins.

“Favorite Taylor Swift song?”

“‘Lover,’” I say. “Closely followed by ‘This Is Me Trying.’”

“Good choices,” he says.

“You’re a Swiftie?” I ask, surprised.

“That depends. With therightcompany, yes.” He waits a beat, then asks, “Do you skate?”

“Depends what you mean by skating. I’d need someone to prop me up so I don’t fall on my butt. But I’ve always dreamed of going on a skating date where they play romantic music and the snow is falling.”

“I think you’ve watched too many Hallmark movies,” he accuses with a grin.

“Shut up and let me have my sappy movies.” I shove him with my shoulder. He barely budges.

“Single or dating someone?” he asks after a pause, then looks over at me.

“Single,” I answer, avoiding his gaze. “But I could be persuaded to date. With therightcompany.”

He smirks, then asks, “Do you dance?”

“That depends on the song. Taylor Swift is always a yes,” I admit, finally gathering the hem of my gown, so I don’t step on my dress when I stand. The music has started up again, which means the bouquet and garter tosses are done. “I should probably go,” I murmur, feeling that small inward pull that tells me to stay.

Brax looks at me, crestfallen. “Already?”

“People will notice.” More likeMia will notice.

“Well, I’ve enjoyed hiding in the closet with you, Jazlyn.” He tilts his head, and I swear he looks a little disappointed that I’m leaving.

It’s for the best.He doesn’t want a relationship. And I’m a girl who’s not looking for a short-term romance.

As if on cue, the DJ plays “Lover,” and Brax’s mouth curves into a grin. “One dance before you go?”

My eyes widen. “I can’t.”

“I seem to remember you saying Taylor Swift wasalwaysa yes.”

I look around. “There’s no room in this closet.”

“Then dance with me in the hall.” He levels those jade eyes at me, and my defenses fall like a house of cards.

He opens the door, and we step out into the hall, where the music is louder and the lights are almost nonexistent. He takes my clutch and puts it to the side.

Then he takes my hand and pulls me into his arms. I’m so nervous, I can’t seem to find a rhythm, and he steps on my toes and apologizes.

“I’m a little rusty at this dancing thing,” he admits with a laugh, breaking the tension.

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