Page 29 of The Roommate Game

And then he kissed me and it was just…awful.

Let me set the scene.

Insert dramatic throat-clearing.

An ancient Justin Bieber song on the speakers and a gentle spring breeze swaying the trees lining my street as Eli parked at the curb in front of my house.

“Can I walk you in?” he asked.

Sly devil. I wasn’t opposed to first-date sexy time, but Gus’s truck was in the driveway, and I was perfectly happy to end the night here. That probably wasn’t a great sign. However, I had zero desire to continue with any indoor gymnastics of the bedroom variety. None whatsoever. Another sign? Maybe.

I shook my head lightly. “I can handle it. Thank you, though. I had fun.”

“Me too.” Eli reached for my hand and yes, he linked our pinkies.

I squeezed his finger as I leaned across the console of his RAV4. Eli met me halfway and sealed his mouth over mine.

First impression, his lips were chapped.

Second impression, his tongue was too wet and too slippery. Sort of like kissing a fish. Not even a sexy fish. We’re talking a carp or a sea bass. I had a feeling this wasn’t Eli’s fault, though. It was mine.

I couldn’t explain why, but it was as if my body were rejecting him, silently screaming,You’ve got the wrong guy.

I somehow resisted the impulse to wipe my mouth as I pulled away. “Good night, Eli.”

I couldn’t get away fast enough.

All I wanted was to take my contacts out, put my glasses on, and change into my comfiest PJs. It had nothing to do with eel kisses and unsatisfying endings. I swear. Seriously.

And yes, I sort of wanted to hang out with Gus.

So what?

CHAPTER 10

GUS

The ice packon my knee was slushy, my head hurt, and the annoying insurance commercial with tear-jerkerHallmarkaspirations wasn’t helping. I sat up slowly, groaning as I reached for the remote. Damn, I was tired.

I needed to get off my ass, refreeze the ice pack, and take two more Advil. Stat.

My aching body and buzzing brain weren’t going to magically get better lying here like a bump on a log, pretending I wasn’t waiting for Rafe to get his ass home. Christ, he’d been gone for hours. I’d thought it was a simple dinner date. You’d eat, you’d chat, you’d sayadios, and that was that.

Okay, yeah…I wasn’t a moron. There was a chance Rafe wouldn’t come home tonight at all. Or worse…he’d bring Eli here, and I’d be tortured with the soundtrack of sex noises echoing off the walls. That was assuming they were loud. Our bedrooms were on opposites ends of the hall, and we didn’t share a wall, and—Wow.Why do I care?

I should have been out with my friends, celebrating our win against Granville. I could have done the soda water and lime trick, and no one would have been the wiser. Again. None of them knew I was three weeks sober. No one knew. It wasn’tsomething I needed to share, but sitting in the dark and wishing I’d have made more of an impact in tonight’s game wasn’t helpful either. The win was all that mattered. I knew that.

Just as I knew that Rafe’s date was none of my fucking business. In fact, it was low-key psycho that I couldn’t stop thinking about him and wondering if he’d been purposely dodging me.

I’d thought we’d started to connect, and I genuinely looked forward to banter over coffee. And I’d sort of hoped I could convince him to go to the new wholesale warehouse that had opened recently in Havenhurst. We could stock up on eggs, frozen waffles, and dino chicken nuggets, and he could tell me I was an overgrown kid and I’d tell him he reminded me of my grumpy Uncle Sam.

And since when did a few hours with Rafe sound better than hanging out with my friends?

I had a theory that this was all tied to sobriety. Like…maybe it was easier to be with someone who called me on my shit than it was to pretend I was a-okay with people I didn’t want to disappoint.

Not that I wasn’t okay.

I was fine.