The Roommate Equation

“It will be worse than anything I could imagine.”

“You overthink everything.” She lightly taps the side of my head. “Turn that brain off.”

“I wish I could.”

“Everything will work out,” she says with genuine optimism. “Sloan will have a hissy fit, but he’ll learn to live with us being together. Our relationship doesn’t change the way he feels about either of us.”

“He’ll never trust me again,” I point out. “I wouldn’t trust him if he did the same to me.”

“You don’t have any siblings.”

“That’s beside the point. I did the worst thing I could have done to him.”

“Not even close,” she coos. “Sloan is protective of me because he’s afraid I will get hurt. So, as long as you don’t plan on breaking my heart, he’ll adapt.”

“I’m never letting you go.”

I kiss the top of her head, and she slides her arm across my body, hugging me tightly. We lay in my bed for another twenty minutes, enjoying each other’s company before we head into the kitchen. Sloan is outside on the patio, drinking coffee.

I drag Ash into the kitchen, mixing the pancake batter while she adds slices of bacon to a large frying. Ash hums a tune under her breath, shaking her sexy ass as she cooks.

When the food is ready, Ash pops her head out the door and tells Sloan to come in for breakfast. He enters the kitchen with an empty mug in his hand.

“You must be psychic.” He lifts the coffee pot and pours another cup. “I’m fucking starving.”

I add the last pancake to the stack piled high on the plate in my hand. “Thank your sister. Breakfast was Ash’s idea.”

She sets a plate of bacon on the table with a grin. “Thank my stomach. It wouldn’t stop growling.”

If I prime Sloan with food, he might be less likely to strangle me once we break the news. I can barely eat thinking about the aftermath of this discussion. Ash has nothing to lose with us going public, while I could lose everything. The money, the house, and the company mean nothing without Sloan in my life.

Rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with.

“We have something to tell you,” I say without further deliberation.

Sloan looks at me and then Ash, a curious look on his face.

“We both love you,” Ash says. “So, please remember that after you hear what we have to say.”

Sloan’s eyebrows rise. His mouth twists in disgust, and he drops the piece of bacon on his plate. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows. Before I even have the guts to say the words, he has it all figured out. But he doesn’t know the story.

“You fucked my sister?”

“Sloan, it’s not like that with Ash.”

He gets up, pushes his chair across the room, and then presses his palms to the table in front of me, his face inches from mine. “Then, what the fuck is it like?”

“Stop it,” Ash yells. She crosses the room, now at Sloan’s side, tugging on his shirt. “You’re acting like an animal. Can we talk like civilized human beings?”

Thankfully, he moves away from the table, his focus now on Ash. He crosses his arms across his chest, teeth gritted. “So talk.”

“We’ve known each other for a long time. It’s not like Dylan is a stranger.”

Sloan laughs, but it’s not a pleasant laugh, more like a cackle. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” His eyes meet mine. “You fucking asshole.” He shakes his head. “How long has this been going on?”

I stand, though careful to keep my distance. “This time?”

He snickers. “You’re unbelievable.” Sloan closes the distance between us, and I don’t stop him when he grabs my collar, breathing in my face. “There were other times?”

“Stop it,” Ash yells and then moves between us, clawing at Sloan’s hands. “Get off him, Sloan. Please. For me. He’s your best friend. You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” he spits back. “He went behind my back. What kind of friend does that?”

“Ash, there’s no point in reasoning with him. Move out of the way, and let’s get this over with.”

Sloan glares at me, still gripping my collar.

“Go ahead,” I urge him. “Hit me. I deserve it.”

“Why would you do this to me?” His hands shake, and his grip loosens. “Of all the people to fuck me over, I never thought it would be you.”

“Sloan, please,” Ash says, yanking on his arm.

“I should have told you years ago… I wanted to tell you. I never wanted to hide my relationship with Ash.”

He grinds his teeth. “How long?”

“Since the night after Ash’s eighteenth birthday.”

Sloan releases his hold on my shirt and takes a few steps back, looking completely dumbfounded. The wheels are turning in his head as he does the math.

“You fucking bastard. Seven years?”

“Do you remember the girl from Zeta?”