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His lips thin. “I can’t. This is ridiculous.”
“Oh, come on. You can use your own comforter and no one will even know.”
I start to make the bed while he sighs next to me. A smile pulls at my lips when I tug on the fitted sheet, waving like Vanna White when I’m finished.
“Looks girly,” he grumbles.
I bark out a laugh. “What was the rule about having girly shit out?”
He beams. “I thought you might like that.”
I study his smirk. Conniving. Teasing. “I knew you did it on purpose, you jackass. I’ll stack up all the pink and purple shit I have wherever I want.”
His chest rumbles with a laugh, his shoulders moving up and down like his body can’t contain it. Being this close to him again, I remember how in awe I was that his body dwarfed mine. Well, more like Trish’s because he was only ever close to her. He was a marble statue among normal men. As if an artist took his time chiseling at his face to make his perfect features.
The memory of the first moment I saw him shoots through me, but I quell it. It can’t be good to think these things about my new roommate and my ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend.
Plus, none of what initially happened mattered. He ended up being a stupid hockey player, anyway.
Without another word, I pull the flat sheet on, then throw his pillow on the bed along with his steel-gray comforter, turning down the corner. “That actually looks good,” I muse, admiring how the pink and gray play off each other.
“It looks like I’m having an identity crisis.”
“It looks like you’re embracing your feminine side, which is hot as fuck.” I smooth a wrinkle out of his sheets, then freeze.Did I say that out loud?I press my lips together and peer up at his waiting gaze. “I didn’t meanyouwere hot as fuck. I meant that for a man to embrace that part of himself is super sexy. Any man. No one in particular. He could be, you know, a madscientist intent on blowing up the world, but if he sleeps in sheets like these, at least he has a sexy side going for him.”
“All I heard was that you think I’m hot as fuckandsexy, and I have to tell you, Len, if we’re going to be roommates, you can’t let your deep, dark feelings for me interfere. This is strictly a platonic relationship.”
My face burns.
His lips twitch, then he bursts into a laugh. When I don’t join in, he abruptly stops. “Don’t look like I kicked your puppy, I was joking.”
“I knew— I know that.” Defiance laces my words, and I wish I’d taken the time to strain the vinegar out of them because now I sound like I care more than I actually do.
It’s silent between us for a moment while he continues to place his things around the room. I stand there, running my fingertips along his comforter. It’s going to be weird sleeping in the other room knowing he’s in here. I hope he doesn’t snore. Or invite girls over and be loud. Or—
“What are you writing your article about?”
I settle my nerves with a deep breath. “The clock tower.”
“Oh yeah? Interesting.”
“Yeah…” I hover there for a second longer before a familiar, uncomfortable feeling fills me. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be working in my room and will head to bed after.”
“Okay. I have an early workout in the morning, so I might not see you, so see you…whenever.”
“Whenever,” I echo, then walk from the room as fast as I can, tension suddenly sliding off me once I hit the living room.
That wasn’t so bad. Weird and uneasy at times, but that’s to be expected with any new person moving in. We’ll get into a routine and it’ll be fine.
I hope.
I mean, I sincerely wish this won’t turn out to be a huge mistake, but because I know Zaiah, it feels like there’s so much more on the line.
CHAPTER FOUR
Zaiah
My skates glideeasily over the ice while Coach runs us through drills. He keeps barking out encouragements like he sits on a fortune cookie committee, except his quips are laced with f-bombs.