The Roommate Agreement - Page 67

Something flipped in my stomach.

Fuck—was I nervous?

I was.

This was only our second date if you went on a technicality, and while this was a setup we’d done before, I’d never considered holding her hand or being, well, a couple with her.

Shit.

Shelby’s face lit up as she laid eyes on me.

And just like that, the nerves disappeared.

This was Shelby. My crazy, passionate, sarcastic, kooky girl. Whether she was my roommate or my best friend or something else, she’d always be that.

My girl.

It was a weird realization, but I was oddly comfortable with it. It rolled off the brain, never mind the tongue.

Brie bounded up to Sean and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him passionately.

Shelby approached me much more casually. She was almost shy with her cheeks flushed a light pink and her dark brown eyes shining but focused on the planks beneath our feet instead of on me. “Hey,” she said quietly.

I grinned.

Grinned. Like. Fuck.

“Hey,” I said back. “Good dinner?”

“It was good until my dad heard me say you were good in bed.”

Excuse me?

She jerked her head up and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. If it were possible, her entire face was redder than just a minute ago.

I laughed low, taking a step toward her. “Must have been awkward.”

“Mhmm.” She finally met my eyes. “He couldn’t look at me until I left.”

“Can’t wait to see him next,” I drawled. “I specifically promised I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”

“Well, to be fair, I dragged you into my room.” Shelby shrugged. “Although that might not work in your favor, either.”

“I’ll take it.” I smiled and dipped my head to kiss her. Her lips were soft and tasted like chocolate and coconut, and I knew exactly which dessert she’d picked at the bar. “You had your mom’s cheesecake without me.”

“She kept you three slices.” Her lips twitched. “Apparently, she wasn’t nearly as bothered about us having sex as my dad was.”

“That’s because she’s been plotting your wedding since you were sixteen,” Brie quipped, ruining the moment. “Her and Georgina, that is.”

“What?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah. They’ve been plotting it for years. It’s why nobody is surprised.” She let go of Sean’s hand and walked over to us. “You’re so close that everyone assumed you had this brother-sister thing going on, right? But your moms thought there was something more, and now I think they were onto something.” She shrugged. “They had a literal bet on you two getting it on. Kinda weird, but—”

“Get to the point, Brie,” Shelby said, a slight edge to her tone.

“All right. They figured you were both so protective over the other that nobody would ever pass The Test, as they called it—capital letters and all—so they bet that you’d both get together by the time you were either twenty-five or thirty.” She paused and looked at me. “I think your grams won that one. Shelbs, your mom called thirty, but Georgina thought it’d be twenty-five. Since you’re twenty-six, Jay, Grams just won like eight-hundred bucks.”

“How do you know that?” Sean asked.

Brie met his eyes. “Your mom. They’re all in it together.”

“And you never told me?”

“Well, no. I was sworn to secrecy when I heard them talking about it.”

“You never told me?” Shelby squeaked. “Best friend my ass!”

“I picked forty!” Brie held her hands out, palms up. “I thought you’d both be forty and divorced before you figured it all out.”

If Shelby’s gaze was deadly, Brie would be six feet under.

“It’s so nice to know we have parents who care about our feelings. Friends, too,” I said dryly. “I wish I was surprised.”

“Same,” Shelby muttered. “No wonder your mom always brought out the baby pictures.”

“Like you hated that.”

“Hush.” She spun and pushed a finger against my lips. “I think we can accuse your mom of influencing the vote. Grams, too. She’s always been one for getting out the submarine picture.”

Sean sniggered at the same time Brie looked away.

“On another note,” I said brightly. “If anyone had to be right, at least it was Grams. We can guilt her into food forever.”

Shelby perked up at that. “Oh, she so has to hand over that spaghetti recipe now.”

• • •

“You mad?”

Shelby’s hair whipped around her face until she swept it around the back of her neck. “I want to be. I think I should be. Don’t you?”

I nodded. “I feel like our parents are shits for betting on something we had no plan of happening. It was never in our plans to feel this way, but we do.”

“We do.” Her throat bobbed as she agreed. “Do you feel like we’re pressured into making this work now? Because I do. I feel like we have to because of them.”

I twisted my head until I looked at her. We were both standing halfway down the pier, somewhere between the hook-a-duck stall and the fortune teller, and the wind was just bearable.

Tags: Emma Hart Romance
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