The Room Mate Page 27

I swallowed. “I didn’t want to kiss him. I only went out on that stupid date because . . .”

“Because why?” His posture was tense, but his words were soft.

Because he wasn’t you. Because I’m more hung up on you than I have any right to be.

I swallowed. “Because we never got to finish what we started.”

“We didn’t get to fuck, so you moved on and now you’re dating.”

His direct eye contact was too much, and I found my gaze drifting to the floor between my feet. God, when he said it like that, I sounded like an asshole.

“We dodged a bullet, right?” I meant it to sound calm and certain, but my voice came out shakier than I intended. Clearing my throat, I started again. “We got interrupted. We never even officially had sex, and now we can both move on. It would have been a huge mistake, and besides, according to you, I would have fallen hopelessly in love with you and it would have ended terribly.”

“If you’re too much of a pussy to finish what we started, fine by me, but don’t equate us getting interrupted to dodging a bullet. It would have been fun, and you know it.”

My cheeks heated. Oh, did I ever. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him once. The way he’d felt with his muscular frame atop mine, the restrained power in his hips when he pressed forward the slightest bit, the way he hissed when he felt how tight I was . . . I shivered just thinking of it.

“Is this what you really want? To date some schmuck you met online?” Cannon asked.

“Yes. It’s what I really want.” It was a lie. A total fucking lie that felt bitter on my tongue.

As much as I craved the perks that came with a relationship—affection, intimacy, support, sex—I was even more terrified about giving my heart to anyone. What if they turned out to be like James, and I ended up destroyed in the end?

But I wouldn’t say that to Cannon. He had been a fun fling, a distraction, but he couldn’t be anything more. He had grand plans he needed to focus on, and Allie would never stand for it. Besides, I was about ninety-nine percent sure that Cannon was not at all interested in a steady girlfriend.

His hand fell away from my cheek, and his full lips parted as he appraised me. “I can’t have you going out with a man who doesn’t know how to properly kiss a woman without it ending in a bloody nose.”

I should have said something snappy like, You don’t get to decide who I date. But what came out was, “That’s true.”

The blush on my cheeks spread. Not only did I feel like an idiot, but now Cannon knew just how much I was lusting after him—if he hadn’t known already. For a grown damned woman, I felt totally childish and immature.

“I’m going to be late to work. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.”

I nodded and watched him rise to his feet, my heart still galloping. Figure this out? Like his massive dick and my overly tight you-know-what coming together was some math equation.

He bent down and brushed one hand along my cheek. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” As soon as this shame and self-pity wears off.

With one last worried glance cast in my direction, Cannon nodded and headed for the door. “Call me if you need anything, and don’t forget to lock up.”

Placing my head in my hands, I let out a long sigh. I’d ruined the only date I’d had in over a year and rushed home for nothing. I still didn’t know where I stood with Cannon, and now I wasn’t going to find out.

Adulthood was just as shitty as everyone said. Except not if you were Cannon Roth. He still had that bright and shiny hope radiating from his emerald eyes. Belief that something great was out there on the horizon waiting for him—and maybe it was.

I wanted to bask in that feeling, to linger in his presence in the hope that some of his optimism and passion wore off on me. Because right now? My life was a total shit show.

Chapter Fourteen

Cannon

It shouldn’t have, but Paige going out on that date really pissed me off. I knew I had little right to be angry; she didn’t owe me anything, and I’d barely even seen her in the week since our near miss.

But I couldn’t help the jealous rage that boiled through my veins when I found her on the porch with that guy. And when I thought he’d hurt her? I wanted to pummel his face in. I still didn’t know if it was like she’d claimed, that they’d just bumped heads when he tried to kiss her, but Paige had never lied to me, as far as I knew.

On my drive to the hospital, I called to check on Allie, pleased that she’d kicked that scumbag James to the curb. My life these days consisted of obligations. I worked, slept, hit the gym, studied, checked in on my mom and sister, worked some more. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I knew there was a purpose, knew there was a reason I was doing this, but fuck, some days it was hard to remember what that reason was.

Tonight the urge to stay home and make sure Paige was okay was stronger than ever. Just say fuck it to my never-ending responsibilities and hang out with someone who made me feel comfortable, at ease, and a whole lot turned on.

I wouldn’t push Paige for more, wouldn’t push her on the sex we were supposed to have. Did I want to finish what we started? Of course I did. Getting interrupted that night had almost killed me. Paige had been so hot, so tight, so responsive.

I wanted her. Badly. It didn’t help that I’d fantasized about having her for the last decade. Pulling out before I was even really inside her had been the worst form of torture imaginable. Everything inside me was screaming no from the second I’d heard that pounding at the door. Then less than a week after I’d had her in my bed, wet and eager, she was out on a date with some other guy.

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