Page 17 of Fair Catch

The merementionof Hayes brings my mood back down into the dumps, and more than anything, I wish he didn’t have this effect on me. That I didn’t care if he’s a dick or doesn’t like me. But I can’t just pretend it doesn’t bother me.

Sighing, I mutter, “The whole situation has me in a funk.”

“The way your face just fell at the mention of him kinda said that for you.” Mal offers me an encouraging smile. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Jesus, where to even start?

“We just aren’t compatible as roommates. Or even as people.”

It’s the most basic overview of the situation, but that damn near sums it up.

A pensive look crosses her features. “Have youtriedto be?”

“Of course I’ve tried!” Not trying goes entirely against my personality. “He’s got me all in my head, thinking I’m the world’s worst roommate, when I’m not doing a damn thing differently than when Phoenix and I lived together.”

As we reach her car, she turns and leans back against the driver’s door. She’s got her no-bullshit face back on as she studies me, arms crossed in front of her again. “And how did things work with Phoenix?”

They were easy as hell, for one.

“We were in sync about everything. There wasn’t much, if any, bickering or fighting, unless it was about whose turn it was to use the TV in the living room, because he fucking hates horror movies and only ever wanted to watchFriendsreruns.”

Come to think of it, that’s one thing I don’t miss, but I’d deal with it—even trade my NFL prospects—to go back to living with him. In a heartbeat.

“And sure, we basically lived together for years back in high school, so that had to help some. We already knew how each other operated, we understood each other’s schedules, habits, everything.”

She nods a couple times before saying, “That makes sense, seeing as he’s your best friend, right?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, knowing damn well she’s about to slam some sort of philosophical crap in my face, and in turn, make me feel like an idiot. And in true Mal fashion, she whacks me upside the head with it in a single question.

“So, since Hayes used to room withhisbest friend, don’t you think it’s possible he’s used to a different kind of roommate too?”

Well, shit. I’d never really thought about it like that.

“You have a valid point,” I grumble, hating myself for having to say it aloud.

Mal, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying it, lifting her hand to her ear and playfully saying, “I’m sorry? What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I’m not saying it again,” I tell her, vehemently shaking my head. “No chance in hell.”

She lets out a softhmph.“Like I said. Grouchy pants.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be a grouchy pants too if you had to deal with Hayes Lancaster as a roommate,” I retort with a shake of my head, unable to stop my mind from slipping back to yesterday morning in the bathroom.

Her eyes narrow on me in that knowing, analytical way when she’s trying to read between the lines. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Boy, I swear, you forget I know you better than just about anyone.” She arches a brow, daring me to disagree, before motioning toward me with one manicured hand. “Now spill.”

Absolutely no part of me wants to divulge what happened yesterday morning. If anything, I wish I could wipe the mortifying incident from my memory altogether. But just like Mal said, she and I have known each other forever, so I’m more than aware this is not something she’ll drop.

“He walked in the bathroom while I was in the shower,” I mutter, kicking a rock near my foot as I try to tamp down the embarrassment threatening to spread a pink tint over my cheeks.

I glance up at her in time to see her frown. “Well, why didn’t you lock the door?”

“That’s your first reaction? To blame me for not locking the door?”

“It’s the most obvious question!” she rebuts, her hands lifting in the air.

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