Room Mated: Standalone Reverse Harem Romance

Mason rolled his eyes. “Not all of us.”

I raised an eyebrow. “In your final semester, how many women were in your group projects?”

“One or two.”

“And how many of their ideas did you actually use?”

Mason stood up. “Anyone else want another margarita?”

“That’s what I thought.”

Mason went to the kitchenette, bringing back the pitcher of margaritas I’d made earlier. “Do you want some?”

“I’m good.”

Jude had been bringing home bottles of alcohol all week. Mason said it was because he now knew I was a bartender, but to me, it seemed more about guilt. I’d told Jude a million times that I was all right, but he still felt bad about what happened at the bar last week.

Mason split the last of the margarita between his and Parker’s glasses.

I thought of something else to tell him. “Alyssa aced her test in Ethics and Engineering.”

“That’s good.”

“Imagine someone related to you behaving ethically.”

He grinned. “It is kind of hard to believe.” Then, his expression grew more solemn. “Especially if you met my father.”

Right. His father. I didn’t know much, but from talking with both Mason and Alyssa, their father sounded like a cold man who’d all but guaranteed the two of them would be uncomfortable around each other. “What was Alyssa like when she was younger?”

Mason downed the rest of his drink. “I didn’t see her that often, maybe once or twice a year when I was home from boarding school. And then college. Mostly, I went to my grandfather’s when school wasn’t in session. My mom’s father, I mean.”

It was sad that in his effort to avoid his dad, he’d avoided his sister as well.

Mason’s gaze softened. “I remember one summer when she must’ve been nine or ten. She had friends over, and the other girls were all playing with dolls. But not Alyssa. She built a bridge so the dolls’ dream car could cross the creek out back. It was a pretty good representation of a tied-arch bridge.”

That made me smile, but I wished Mason had a better relationship with his sister. She’d already started looking for jobs. It might be their last few months of living in the same state. “You’ve got to spend some time with her before she graduates.”

Mason nodded, which seemed like a step in the right direction. “I just don’t know how to talk to her.”

“Talk to her like you talk to me. Only, you know, G-rated.”

Parker scoffed. “He doesn’t know how.”

“He’s a student. He can learn.”

Mason sighed, no longer in a joking mood. “There’s a lot of years of bad blood and resentment between us. But that’s not her fault.”

“That’s exactly why you need to spend more time with her,” I said, keeping the exasperation out of my voice.

“I’ll try.”

We fell silent as we went back to studying, but my mind returned to the assortment of booze Jude had purchased. There were a bunch of drinks I wanted to make for the guys. Who knew I missed bartending?

My phone buzzed and I checked the text. “Oh my God,” I said, breaking into a smile.

“What?” Mason asked, and Jude looked over from his spot by the window.

“My friend, Sierra, is coming to Denver.”

“Is that your Hollywood friend?” Mason asked.

“One of them.” It still blew my mind that I had two friends working in the movie industry. “Sierra’s the actress.”

“Is she pretty?” Mason wanted to know.

“Absolutely hideous,” I said, suppressing a grin.

Mason laughed, and Parker gave a small smile.

“It’ll be good for you to see your friend,” Jude said, standing up. “I’m going to go practice.”

He left the suite and Mason, Parker, and I looked at each other. “How long do you think he’ll be like that?” I directed my question mostly to Parker, who was the resident expert on melancholy behavior.

But Mason was the one who answered. “He’s extra upset today because he has to play at the bar tonight.”

“He feels like he betrayed you,” Parker added.

I snapped my book closed. Enough was enough. “The drunk asshole who grabbed me already ruined one night. It’s stupid to let him ruin another.”

“Tell that to Jude,” Mason said.

“I will.” I got to my feet.

“He uses the practice room one floor down,” Parker said. “It’s under where the weight room is on our floor.”

“Thanks.”

I stood outside the small practice room for a long time. The music flowing through the glass door was faint, but beautiful. It was something classical, but I didn’t think I’d heard it before. The music flowed and conveyed a haunting sense of longing.

But even more mesmerizing than the music itself was the way Jude moved. His fingers flew across the keyboard, but his whole body shifted with the music as well. His torso swayed from side to side with an easy fluidity. As I watched, his eyes closed and he bowed his head as his strong hands kept the piece going. It looked like it poured out of his soul and was channeled through the piano.