Page 67 of The Roommate Remodel

“Hey, Jazzy!” Sloan enters the room, beaming. Her cheeks have more color, a sign she’s feeling better. “Just in time. The party’s starting.”

“I think the party already has. Did you know these clowns were playing football in Granny’s living room?”

“Yeah!” she says brightly before she looks at my face and her smile drops. “Was I supposed to tell them no?”

Even though Sloan’s my sister, she doesn’t always feel the same weight of responsibility as I do about the house.

“I can’t afford to fix anything that’s broken,” I murmur as Dawson crashes into an end table and knocks a stack of books off of it.

“Whoops.” He glances at the mess on the floor, then shrugs. “Don’t worry. They’re only Tate’s. You could run over these with a front loader and they wouldn’t break.”

I stride over to the mess and pick up the books. “What will it be next time? Lamps? Glass? Somebody’s tooth?”

“That’d be cool,” Dawson says, nodding.

“No, it would not! This is not a frat house!” I shout.

Dawson’s eyes widen at my outburst.

Sloan grabs my arm and reels me back. “Calm down. They won’t hurt anything. It’s about time we had some fun around here. You know Granny loved a good party.”

“Notthistype of party. Rowdy boys and flying footballs were not Granny’s thing.”

Suddenly, the front door flies open and Rourke, Jaxon, and Logan barrel through the door. I don’t even know who’s upstairs. Half the team might be destroying my house, for all I know.

“The party can finally begin!” Leo says, holding up a large container of cheese balls that will probably be crushed into the rugs later.

Leo tears open the can and challenges Dawson to catch as many as he can in his mouth like a free-throw shooting contest.

Sloan’s mouth stretches into a wide smile. “I think Granny would be proud of us.”

I gape at her. “Throwing cheese balls in the living room?”

“No, letting these guys in. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” The joy on Sloan’s face is unmistakable. For months she’s been down, a shadow of her former self since the accident. As much as I want her well, I don’t want my house obliterated.

Someone turns the music up, and Vale and Dawson start a horrible rendition of a conga line across the floor, pulling Sloan in with them. Vale grabs her waist and forces her into the train.

“C’mon, Coach,” he says, using the nickname only her skaters call her.

Sloan looks back at me with a shrug and lets Vale sweep her away to the rhythm, looking happier than I’ve seen her in years. Over the pumping Latin beat, her laughter spills across the house. It’s a sound I’d forgotten since the accident, something that makes my heart squeeze.

Seeing her so content, how could I ruin her happiness for my own?

She glances over her shoulder at Vale and tosses him a smile. I can’t see her falling for Vale in any conventional sort of way.But him falling for her? How could henotwhen she’s this beautiful?

The door slams behind me, and I turn to see Brax frozen in the hall, his eyes bulging, the raucous scene unfolding before him.

He carries a wildflower bouquet in one hand and four Ben & Jerry’s tubs in the other.

“How much ice cream did you think I was going to eat?” I say, looking over his haul. When he saw me at the reception, I was only half-joking about my love for food. Apparently, he knows my love language well.

“What’s going on?” he shouts to the guys, still shell-shocked.

Dawson glances at Brax’s flowers. “Awww, you didn’t have to bring me flowers.”

“I didn’t,” Brax growls, whipping the flowers away.

“You’re not pretty enough,” Lucian says, smacking Dawson in the arm. “And your socks reek.”

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