Jock Romeo (Jock Hard 6)

It’s completely dark now outside; I yawn, tired and still hungry, and also lonely.

I manage to find something to entertain myself, my mind whirling with possibilities. What does it mean that he kept this bracelet instead of throwing it in the trash as most guys would have done? Obviously Roman is sentimental; there are so many things in this bedroom that indicate that fact.

But it does nothing to explain why he would keep a bracelet from a random stranger, albeit a female one.

My eyelids are getting heavy as I sit here staring blankly at the television. I should probably turn on the bedroom light because the glare isn’t great for my eyesight and makes it hard to watch the program—I’m just so darn lazy and don’t want to climb out of this bed and walk the five feet to the light switch on the wall by the door.

Stomach grumbles a little.

Lids get heavier still…

Outside, the moon rises higher into the night sky above the houses in the distance, casting a little light into the bedroom but not enough to make a difference. I wonder what the man on the moon is up to tonight. Perhaps he’s just as lonely as I am. Maybe I should’ve gone to dinner with Roman; at least then I wouldn’t be sitting in this empty house by myself.

I’m sure by now Kaylee is curious about where I’ve gone, so I check my phone to see if I’ve missed any text messages from her.

Three.

Kaylee: Wanna get dinner?

Kaylee: Hello?

Kaylee: Where are you? I checked your location and don’t recognize the address. Everything okay?

I let out a yawn and tap out a lazy Came to Liza’s for something to eat.

Kaylee: Oh.

Just “Oh.” Classic Kaylee with an Oh that speaks louder than an actual sentence. It’s clearly her subtle way of disapproving without actually intoning her opinion.

Passive aggressive.

Me: You were busy when I left and I didn’t want to bug you.

Kaylee: Sure.

Me: What’d you end up eating?

Kaylee: McDonald’s.

McDonald’s? That doesn’t sound like Kaylee at all—she can’t be serious. I love McDonald’s more than the next person and eat it all the time, but my roommate does not. In fact, the last time I went for a McFish sandwich and fries during Lent because I crave them something fierce, she guilted me the whole time I was eating it to the point that I got up out of my chair and dumped the remaining part of the sandwich in the trash.

Me: Huh. Are we totally out of food?

Kaylee: No—I was feeling sorry for myself because my best friend abandoned me without telling me where she was going.

Best friends?

That’s a stretch.

I like Kaylee, but we are in no way best friends, and I’d venture to say I’m closer to Eliza than I’ve ever been to her…even when I wasn’t all that close to Eliza. The period of time I was dating Kyle, I was a bit of a shit friend to everyone. I hate to admit I was one of those girls—the kind who ignores all her friends when she starts dating someone new—but the truth is, I was.

Kyle love-bombed me from the beginning, and I fell for every second of it.

Me: Sorry I didn’t send you a message, but I told you shortly before I left that I was returning the award to Jack and Eliza’s new roommate, remember?

Kaylee: Whatever. I went to the gym after you left me all alone at the house.

Me: So you left for the gym without telling me but you’re irritated I left to come here?

Suddenly, whatever guilt I was feeling dissolves, and I take my phone and set it back on the bedside table, closing my eyes and listening to the television rather than watching it.

So peaceful here.

So comfy…

5

ROMAN

Lilly is sleeping on my bed.

It’s taken me a few minutes to find her; when I arrived home just a few moments ago and saw her car still parked outside, I assumed she’d be in the living room watching a movie or something.

No Lilly in the living room.

No Lilly in the kitchen.

My heart began to race as I climbed the stairs to the bedroom level, thundering in my chest with dread and anticipation, unsure of where I’d find her, knowing she had to be in the house.

It’s eerily quiet, but when I strain my ears, I hear the faint sound of a television and head toward mine.

Why would she be watching TV in my bedroom?

The pit of my stomach rolls.

Oh god.

What if…

No.

She’s just watching TV—relax. Nothing bad happened.

The light in the hall is on, but it’s not on inside my room, nothing but the changing screens from the television illuminating the space.

The door is open.

I see feet before I see the rest of her, long legs stretched across my bed.

Bare feet.

Bare legs up to the calf before her black leggings cover the rest of her.