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“Shelby, it’s one-thirty in the afternoon. I finished at one.”

“It is?” My eyes bugged, and I checked the clock in the corner of my screen. “Well, shit. No wonder I’m hungry.”

Sean’s eyebrows shot up. “How long have you been here?”

“Since around nine.”

“And why are you here?”

“Can I plead the Fifth?”

He smirked. “Come on. I’ll make us lunch, and you can tell me what I already know.”

I sighed, made sure my document was saved, and followed him into the kitchen.

Sean pulled the fixings for a BLT from the fridge and grabbed a frying pan for the bacon. “Shit hit the fan yesterday then, huh?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“That’s one way of putting it.” I sat at the small square dining table and rested my chin on my hand. “He told you everything?”

“After I threatened to call his dad and have him put on toilet cleaning duty,” he said, referring to the threat they commonly used against each other. “It wasn’t too hard to guess what had happened. Brie told me you’d accidentally kissed him, and since you live together, you had to address it one way or another.”

“Yeah, well, we did.” I fiddled with the edge of a dishtowel that was in front of me. “Except we made things worse.”

“I don’t reckon you did,” he said, once again glancing back at me. “It’s only awkward because you don’t have any space between you, which is why you’re here, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to say to him right now, so I figure it’s easier to hide out here and deal with it tomorrow.”

Sean turned and laughed, keeping half an eye on the bacon. “Is it really? I know you, Shelby. You overthink everything. There’s only so much you can let out in your books.”

I took a deep breath. I knew he was right, but that wasn’t the point. “It was so easy for you and Brie. Why is this so hard?”

He smiled sympathetically at me. “Because, if you remember, Brie was your best friend and Jay was mine. We met because of the friendship you and Jay had. We became friends by default until I told her I wanted to date her—something I decided when we met in freshman year, by the way.”

I sighed.

“You and Jay have a lot of history together. I had nothing to lose by asking Brie out except my sanity.”

I laughed, pressing my hand to my mouth. “True. I don’t know. I just feel like if something is meant to happen, it’d be a hell of a lot less complicated.”

“Shelby, Brie spent four days being mad at me because a new coworker was asking me how the new treadmill worked because she’d forgotten.” He flipped the bacon. “Yes, she tried to talk casually, and I shut her down, but not before Brie lost her shit. Nothing about relationships is uncomplicated.”

I shrugged, once again focusing on the dishtowel. “I just—I just need some space from him. I can’t get that at home. He’s like a dog with a bone.”

“Weren’t you the one who demanded he told you what he was thinking?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s the dog with a bone?”

“That’s irrelevant.” I sniffed. “It’s hard. I’ve had these feelings for weeks now, and I guess I wanted to forget that he was my best friend for a few minutes. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No.” Sean moved to slice lettuce and tomatoes. “It makes you a human with real feelings, but that also means you have to face the consequences of your actions.”

“I know that. I do, honestly. I literally write books about people having to face them. Like I said, I just need some space. It’s impossible at home, and my parents’ bar is the first place he’ll look for me if he wants to find me.”

“And you think here is at the bottom of his list?” He smirked.

“No, but I’m going to play the best friend card here and ask you to keep it secret that I’m here.”

“You want me to lie to him?”

“No. I want you to help me make Brie lie to him.”

He laughed hard. “I won’t tell him you’re here, all right? If you need space, you need space. As long as you don’t mind sharing the sofa so I can play FIFA.”

That seemed like a fair deal.

“You have yourself a deal.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – JAY

Don’t Think About Sex With Your Roommate

Working out was underrated.

The stress relief you could get from your feet slamming against a treadmill or lifting some weights or punching the ever-loving fucking shit out of a punching bag was incredible.

Georgia stood on the other side of the bag, holding it steady. I’d finished work an hour ago, but she’d volunteered to spot me when I was doing weights and come down here. I appreciated that she hadn’t asked me what was on my mind, but I had a feeling that was going to change as soon as I stopped.


Tags: Emma Hart Romance