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The Heartbreaker

Page 8

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“What incident?” I ask, frowning as we walk past the small living room with the fireplace and toward the kitchen.

Lauren’s version of a tour, apparently, is walking swiftly past the rooms. We stop at the threshold of the kitchen. It’s small, but has definitely been remodeled, with stainless-steel appliances.

“The fire,” Jagger says, again, making my pulse quicken and heart drop into my stomach.

“I didn’t hear about a fire.”

“You must have been busy, probably with your asshole boyfriend.” He says the words so casually, Lauren laughs. They continue walking and I stand there, stunned for a second, before picking up my pace and following behind them. The mere mention of my asshole boyfriend makes my insides burn, but the last thing I want is to tell Jagger he was right about Lawrence.

“The last tenants started a fire somehow,” Lauren explains. “Anyway, the entire house was remodeled because of it, which explains the hike in rent, but both of you already paid for the semester, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Wait.” I blink, looking at Jagger. “Both of us . . . meaning . . . you’re moving in here?”

“It appears so.”

“Here?” I point at the floor beside me. “To this house?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t . . . ” I shake my head slowly. When I clicked the box saying I was okay with living with a guy I was not expecting him to be the guy. “We can’t . . . ”

“I agree.” Jagger cocks his head, crossing his arms. “You should take your deposit back.”

“Me?” I press my hand to my chest. “You take your deposit back.”

“And forfeit the place to you? To Lawrence?”

“What does Lawrence have to do with anything?”

“You tell me.” He raises an eyebrow.

My face heats instantly at the memory he elicits with three little words. They were the words he’d said to me when I told him I was dating someone and could never, ever hook up with him again. It was that same night he told me Lawrence was a serial cheater. My stomach tightens. I shake my head. There’s no way I can live with him. I’d agreed to be roommates with whomever they paired me with, thinking that I could get along with anyone, but this was clearly impossible. Jagger hates me and I return those feelings to be sure. And really, universe? I mean, I’ve managed to stay away from the guy for years and now this? There’s no freaking way.

“Is there a problem?” Lauren asks.

“Do you have any other properties available?” I look at her because I definitely can’t look at him right now.

“Classes already started.” She raises an eyebrow. “This is it.” She looked at the two of us. “Unless you want to try the dorms . . . ”

“No.” We both say it with finality in unison.

“I haven’t lived in the dorms since freshman year,” Jagger says. “Maybe you want to try the dorms again for your fourth year in a row?”

“I guess someone’s been keeping score on my life,” I shoot back.

“So, will you make it work or should I look for someone else?” Lauren looks between the two of us. “I have other people outside waiting just in case.”

“We’ll make it work.” I take the keys she’s holding out from her hand and follow her to the door.

“I’ll email the final contract to each of you.” She smiles. “Enjoy, and please don’t burn the place down.”

“We won’t.” I smile as she closes the door behind her, then exhale as I turn to Jagger, who is standing just a few feet away, watching me.

“You’re really going to stay here?” he asks.

“Where else would I go? You heard her.”

“I assumed your daddy could get you out of this somehow.” He scowls. “Or your boyfriend.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m trying not to count on my father for anything.” I lick my lips and look away. “And I’m sure you heard me when I told your brothers that I’m no longer dating Lawrence.”

“Right, right. You finally saw the light.”

“What is your problem?” I meet his eyes again. “Seriously, what is your problem? You’ve been nothing but rude every single time I’ve seen you, which is a lot these last few days.”

“I agree.” He starts walking toward me.

My heart jumps with each step he takes. By the time he stops directly in front of me, I feel like I’m shaking. He reaches a hand out and my mouth falls open—to ask, to plead, to talk—but I can’t form any words, and when his fingers graze mine and he leans into me ever so slightly, I think I’m a goner. The tip of his mouth pulls up as he grabs something out of my hand and pulls away. He brings his hand up and dangles a key, his key, I realize.

“I guess you’re about to start seeing a lot more of me. See you later, Roomie.” He winks and turns away, leaving me standing there balking like an idiot.



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