Page 68 of The Roommate Remodel

Lucian is the darling on the team, the one person who probably is pretty enough, given his perfect features and dark blond hair. He dresses like a men’s cologne model, and Sloan and I have secretly agreed that if anyone could get an endorsement for men’s beauty products, it’s him.

“Who’s it for, Romeo?” Lucian asks with a sly grin.

My face grows hot as I turn away, letting Brax take this one.

“For the ladies,” he stammers.

Sloan drops out from her conga line, grinning like a fool.

“Why thank you, Brax,” she says, eyeing the flowers, then elbows me in the ribs.

I take the flowers from him. “They’re so pretty. Just like Lucian.” I tweak Lucian’s chin before turning toward the kitchen in search of a vase. Spying one in the back of a high cupboard, I reach up on my tiptoes and skim the edge with my fingertips.

“You need help?” Brax asks, just as the vase tips and slips out of my hand.

Brax catches it before it crashes to the floor.

“Good catch,”I murmur in wonder.

Considering Brax is super talented, you’d never know it. He never brags about his shots or all the times he’s scored the winning goal. Even though he dominates on the ice, he’s remarkably humble in person.

I turn to him slowly, realizing this might be my only opportunity to tell him. “Listen, I’m sorry about the movie.”

The music changes to a southern rock number with a growly singer.

Brax tilts his head. “Why are you apologizing? I’m still planning on a movie after I shut this party down.”

I glance toward the living room, where the guys are trying out a viral TikTok dance while Dawson records it on his phone. Half the guys can’t dance but believe they can, and their bumbling bodies make it even more hilarious. When the song ends, Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies” begins, and a male chorus of bad falsettos join in.

Brax covers his ears. “It’s like someone is scrubbing sandpaper across my eardrums.”

“How will we watch a movie withthat?” I nod toward Dawson who’s now pretending to ride a horse and whoop around the living room as Leo attempts a Shakira-like hip swivel that he clearly can’t do.

Brax looks at me for a beat, grabs my hand and growls, “Follow me.”

During the chaos, we sneak upstairs to Brax’s room, and he opens the door like a gentleman and nods. “After you.”

I haven’t been inside his room since he moved in. It’s impeccably clean, his dresser top is completely empty, and it smells like an expensive cologne that makes my head spin.

“Wow. This room looks fabulous.” I glance at the bed, which is made with a military precision. A steel-gray comforter is tucked with sharp hospital corners. White pillows are stacked perfectly. I’m afraid to even sit on it for fear of messing it up. It’s not like he planned this to impress me.

He picks up a hoodie that’s folded neatly on a plain wooden chair. “I didn’t know anyone would see my room tonight.”

He’s apologizing for one sweatshirt out of place? If he saw my room, he’d be horrified to find a dresser full of scattered makeup, along with the three outfit changes left crumpled on the floor this morning.

Guess we’re never watching movies in my bedroom.

“You can stretch out there.” Brax nods at his perfect bed. “I’ll sit here.”

He waves toward a wooden chair in the corner.

I cross my arms. “For two hours? That’s not comfortable. And don’t even try to argue that it is.”

I walk toward the bed and pat the cover, inviting him to join me. “I trust you enough to sit next to me.”

I just don’t trust my heart.

He blinks for a second before he realizes I’m not letting him off the hook, then climbs onto the bed.

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