Page 68 of The Roommate Experiment

“How were things in the honeymoon suite last night?” Nina doesn’t even give her time to take a sip of coffee before going on the offensive.

“Not a honeymoon suite,” Rowena deflects with ease, but a catch in her tone contradicts her projected nonchalance. “You’re about two months early.”

“Oh, come on.” Nina doesn’t let it go. “That kiss last night? You and Adrian set the sky on fire!”

I nod enthusiastically to cover up the fact that I’ve fantasized a lot about Dylan kissing me like that. “Seriously, the fireworks had nothing on you two.”

Rowena looks like she wants to vanish into her pancakes. She stuffs a forkful into her mouth probably more to avoid the conversation than for hunger, as if carbs could shield her from our questions. I should follow her lead and stuff my face.

“It was just for show,” she mumbles between chews.

Nina raises an eyebrow, not buying it. “Riiiight. Because platonic fake-daters always kiss like they’re reenacting the kiss-in-the-rain scene fromThe Notebook.”

Rowena squirms in her seat. She has all my sympathy. I know what it’s like to pretend nothing’s wrong while your world is spinning. I’ve become an expert at it myself.

“Are you sure the farce isn’t running away from you?” My question is more curious than accusatory. Is she losing control? Am I?

Rowena gives us that practiced shrug. But I’ve known her too long to be fooled by it. I’ve pulled that same move one too many times myself. “Look, guys, I appreciate the concern, but I’ve got this under control,” she insists.

Before I can press more, she turns her attention to me. “Hey, you okay, Hunt? You seem a bit off today.”

My turn to pick at my food. “I’m fine, just tired. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.” Not a lie, but not the entire truth either. That’d be how I’ve been having trouble breathing around Dylan and Olivia.

Nina snorts. “Please. We all know it’s because Dylan brought his new girlfriend last night. Probably has her over at your place often, too.”

Thankfully, she only visited once, but Nina’s words are still a punch to the gut. My fork freezes in mid-air. How does she know? I thought I was better at hiding my feelings.

“How did you?—”

“Oh, come on, babe.” Nina’s voice softens. “It’s obvious you’re into my brother.”

I suck in air between my teeth. I can’t deny it, but I don’t want to discuss my pathetic crush. “But he’s clearly too blind to see what’s right in front of him.”

What’s that? A hot, confused mess?

“Honestly, I give it two months tops,” Nina declares, stabbing a sausage with unnecessary force. “Little Miss Perfect is not right for him. Even Tristan said so.”

As soon as Nina ends her prophetic declaration, a long shadow appears over the table, and Adrian greets us with a smooth, “Morning, ladies.” The sunlight dims slightly as if bowing in response to his presence. The deep, resonant tone of his voice rolls over the group, sending a ripple in the air. Rowena swallows.

Adrian asks if we mind if he takes a seat, and of course, we say not at all. He picks the spot next to Rowena and drops his plate and coffee mug on the table. His movements are smooth but purposeful, those of a man who knows how to command a room without even trying. Next, he pours an unbelievable amount of sugar into his coffee. He calmly steers the hot liquid, his silver spoon clinking rhythmically against the mug, the motion hypnotic.

I watch Adrian, taking in his thick raven-black hair, chiseled jaw that catches the light right, highlighting the faint scruff that he hasn’t shaved off this morning, and his dark, deep-set eyes. He emanates a raw, primal sort of sex appeal, combined with an aura of money, power, and status. There’s no way Rowena isn’t falling for him. Even with his ridiculous sugar addiction, he’s magnetic.

Tristan breaks the spell cast by Adrian, arriving a short while later. He stamps a kiss on Nina’s head and tells her he has news. He steals a muffin from her plate and helps himself to a sip from her mug of coffee. Nina scowls at him, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of fondness and mild annoyance.

“It’s an open buffet, you know,” Nina scoffs. “You can go get your own breakfast.”

The softness in her voice betrays how much she likes their constant banter. Tristan grins, the kind of smug smirk that means trouble, and shrugs, taking another bite of the muffin. “Okay, I’ll go get some food first, and share the juicy gossip later.”

He makes to stand up, but Nina stops him, her hand latching onto his arm. “No, no, no. You can have my pastries, my coffee, but you have to spill the gossip ASAP.” She leans forward, her green eyes gleaming with unbridled curiosity.

Tristan’s grin widens, satisfied. “Thought so.”

Nina glowers at him again. “Your news better be good, Mr. Drama Queen.” Her fingers drum impatiently on the table.

Tristan winks at her in response, and despite their having been a couple for months, now living together for one, Nina’s cheeks still color.

They’re so adorable I want to crawl under the table, curl into a fetal position, and cry.

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