Page 2 of The Roommate Game

My only issue…and it was a big one—was Gus fucking Langley.

It hadn’t started out badly. I’d really liked Gus at first. He’d come across as a funny, engaging, and genuinely nice guy. I’d obviously overlooked some serious red flags. Such as, why would a popular jock in his seemingly twentieth year of college want to live with a stranger? Shouldn’t his teammates be clamoring for a chance to share a nice house for a reasonable rent on the outskirts of town with their captain?

Because I was an idiot, I’d gone out on a limb and assumed that Gus was too mature for them. Older, wiser, and uninterested in being around testosterone-laden undergrads off the ice.

Can you believe that boloney?Oh, poor naïve me.

Truth: Gus Langley was an overgrown man-child with Peter Pan syndrome who wanted to be a college student for the rest of his life. Or at least party like one.

“I thought he’d been better recently,” Celine said, wrinkling her nose in a manner that suggested her latte was too warm or she was lying through her perfect teeth.

“Everything is better when Gus isn’t in town,” I snarked. “Mercifully, he’s had a lovely string of away games, but his damn season is ending soon, and he’s going to be home. All. The. Time. How will I cope? I’m going to go mad. I just know it.”

Celine snickered. “God, I love your drama.”

“Buckle up. I have a feeling it’s going to get ugly.” I slumped dejectedly in my chair.

“Enough about your turdy roommate.” Celine shifted in her chair and leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Tell me all about our resident hottie.”

My face flushed and no doubt turned an alarming shade of pink. Embarrassing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I admitted.

“What do you mean? I thought Eli asked you out.”

“Not really. We had coffee after jump practice because we happened to be on our way here at the same time. Yes, I had butterflies, and I was quieter than usual, but Eli didn’t seem to mind, so maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.”

Celine batted her long eyelashes. “Did you kiss?”

I rolled my eyes. “It was coffee, Cel. Like what you and I are doing right now.”

“Oooh.” She slumped in her seat theatrically. “Why didn’t you make a move? You’re not shy.”

“I am with Eli. He’s intimidating, you know? His quads are a thing of beauty. He skates like he’s part angel, part devil, and I’m a mere mortal with?—”

“A fucking amazing triple axel,” she finished for me, holding her hand up for a high five.

“True.” I grinned and slapped her outstretched palm. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not alone in this. IthinkEli is attracted to me, but…nothing ever happens between us. Nothing sexy, anyway. Though he did sort of hold my pinky finger across the table.”

Celine’s lips formed a perfect O. “That sly devil is edging you.”

“You think?”

“Oh, yeah. Step up your game, Rafey. Be the aggressor. Some guys like that, and you need a positive distraction in your life. This is your last hurrah before graduation. Don’t you dare spend it fretting over roommate.”

“You’re right. I can see myself losing my mind after waking up to yet another beer can pyramid on the coffee table and taking out my aggressions out on a willowy Adonis who glides on frozen ice like a dream and who likes me for my excellent pinky game.” I wiggled said pinky with a laugh.

“That’s the spirit. We make our own reality, honey. If you don’t want the next three months to be a rinse and repeat of the past five, you have to change the game.”

I wholeheartedly agreed, then wisely diverted conversation away frommoi. I’d rather hear about my friend’s romantic exploits than conjure a survival plan for dealing with my daily blahs.

Life seemed infinitely easier for my beautiful, talented bestie. Uncomplicated, handsome men sought Celine’s attention, women admired her, and she was a gorgeous skater.

Of course, Celine had her own challenges and insecurities, but hers were prettier than mine. Like Taylor Swift lamenting a broken heart in sequins and killer heels versus the dweeb singing an off-key rendition of a ’70s ballad in a honky-tonk karaoke bar. I was the dweeb in that scenario, by the way.

Don’t get me wrong—I was confident enough, but I was better on the ice than on land.

I was skinny, average height with boring brown hair, a meh shade of green eyes, and an acerbic tongue that got me in trouble more often than not. Hot guys didn’t notice me. In fact, I had a feeling that the only reason Eli had given me a second look was because I’d scored higher than him at our last competition. One measly point, but it had gotten me on his radar.