Page 3 of Fair Catch

I wince, knowing he has every right to be annoyed, pissed, whatever it might be. Lord knows most people would be after having hot coffee spilled on them.

“Can I at least buy you a new drink?” I ask as he grabs for a few napkins and starts drying off his shirt.

Shaking his head, he mutters, “I’m good, thanks.”

“Well, do you want help—”

“You’ve done enough,” he says curtly, not bothering to look up from the task at hand. However, it quickly becomes clear he’s gonna have one helluva time drying himself off with just napkins. A huff of frustration leaves him as he drops the wad of them in the trash can beside the counter. “Whatever, I’m going home after meeting with my new roommate anyway.”

Just like that, the floor drops out from under me.

I was so embarrassed by the scene I just caused, I’d completely forgottenwhoordered the damn iced matcha that was just dropped at our feet.

“Roommate?” I ask, my voice coming out an octave higher than normal.

His eyes flash up to mine. “Yeah.”

Fuck my life so fucking hard right now.

“Hayes Lancaster?” I ask slowly, praying like hell the next word to pass his sinful lips is no; that he says his name is James or Brad or fucking Reginald. Literallyanythingother than one three-letter word.

But luck is not on my side and Jesus doesn’t answer my pleas, because the guy frowns.

“Yes,” he murmurs, and from the distrust etched into his features, he probably thinks I’m some kind of stalker. “How’d you know that?”

I hold out my hand—the one not holding my now half-empty americano—for him to shake. Rather than taking it, he just looks at it like I’m offering him a steaming pile of shit.

Yeah, today could not possibly get any worse.

Dropping my hand to my side, I offer him a pained smile and formally introduce myself.

“I’m Kason Fuller. Your new roommate.”

One

Hayes

Four Months Later — August

The second my best friend appears on my phone via FaceTime, his dark eyebrows damn near shoot to his hairline.

“Whoa. Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?”

I roll my eyes before aiming a glare his way through the screen. Leave it to Quinton to take one look at the irritation on my face and decide opening with a joke would be a good idea.

Too bad for him, I’m not amused.

“You did, jackass.”

Blue eyes widen slightly, and if possible, his brows inch even further up his forehead. “And dare I ask how I managed to do that all the way from New Jersey?”

“Because rather than listening to my gut instinct, my brain decided it was time for an uncharacteristic lapse in judgment by listening to you about Kason Fuller becoming my roommate,” I bite out.

A dark chuckle leaves him, and I’m annoyed further when I catch the amusement in his black-framed eyes. “Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad after putting up with my ass for the past three years.”

That might be true, but Q’s also been my best friend for most of our lives. We know the ins and outs of each other, and while he might’ve been a bit unpredictable at times, there was still a decent amount of “knowns” with him. Consistencies I could count on.

This guy Kason, though? He’s barely more than a stranger. An awkward as hell one based on the first impression he made a few months ago, yet somehow Quinton managed to dissuade my apprehension about taking the guy in as a roommate this year.

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