The Rival Roomies (The Rooftop Crew Book 3)

by Piper Rayne

  “No. Wait.” Sierra slides down Adrian. “What do you think? Rian’s going out with Jax tonight.”

  Adrian’s eyes roam over my body, but in a polite way, never stopping on any one part, even though my boobs are the first thing anyone would see when they look at me.

  “Very nice. Jax?” he asks with a wrinkle on his forehead as he glances at Sierra.

  “I’m escorting her across the street.” Blanca swings her arm through mine.

  “Really it’s so I don’t break my ankle,” I say.

  Blanca laughs, knowing I’m telling the truth.

  “Have fun with… Jax?” Adrian says as though maybe he has the situations wrong.

  “Thanks.” I smile.

  Adrian slides out of his jacket and puts his phone on the wireless charger by the couch. I wonder what it’s like to go from country to country at least once a month.

  Sierra pulls me into her body. “I want a detailed report tonight.”

  “No need to call tonight, Rian.” All of us look at Adrian. “I’ve been gone for five days, babe.”

  Sierra blushes. I love seeing that look on her face because she’s so smitten, more vulnerable and in touch with her feelings. “Oh, yeah. Tomorrow morning is fine.”

  Adrian comes up behind her, his arms around her waist. “After eleven though.” He winks.

  I smile at the two of them. So in love. Although I’m slightly jealous, I’m happy for my friends.

  Blanca and I say our goodbyes and take the elevator down their expensive apartment building to the main floor. We’re out on the street and about to cross to our own apartment when we spot Dylan at the door of Ink Envy. He glances over then does a double-take.

  “Hey, Dylan,” Blanca waves.

  He stands there gawking. “Hey, you two,” he says, his voice sounding distant and far away.

  We cross the street and I glance over my shoulder, but he’s walking into Ink Envy. I guess that’s all I’ll see of Dylan tonight.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rian

  “I heard Frankie’s been gone and Dylan’s had to work extra shifts,” Blanca says once we’re in the elevator.

  I nod. Of course she knows all this because of Ethan. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, so let’s go over some things.” The elevator reaches our floor but she holds the door closed button.

  “What?”

  “First of all, he asked you out. Remember that. He wants to date you. Do not think he is at all above you in any way. You are at his level, got it?”

  I nod.

  “Good. I can’t stress this enough, Rian, and I would never lie to you—he’s the lucky one. Lucky to go on a date with you.”

  I nod again.

  “And if he tries anything funny, you get ahold of his wrists.” She grabs my wrists, forcing them down to my sides. “Dig your nails into the inside and thrust your knee as hard as you can into his balls.”

  I laugh.

  “I’m serious. You never know. Then you call me, and I’ll handle the rest.”

  I stare at her little five-foot-two body and raise my eyebrows.

  “Don’t underestimate me because I’m small. All my brothers are over six foot and I’ve had them on their knees, praying for mercy.” I laugh again, and even her lips tip up. “This last piece of advice is the most important part though.”

  My shoulders fall. “What?”

  “Have fun. Just enjoy him. Enjoy his flirting and flirt back. This is your night. Make the most of it.” She hugs me and sways us back and forth. The doors slowly open.

  “Thanks, Blanca.”

  We turn to leave, and Seth and Ethan are standing there.

  “Don’t mind us. Continue as you were,” Seth says with a grin.

  Ethan takes no time at all to corner Blanca in the elevator. “Come on, we’re headed out to grab a pizza and a beer.”

  “We said no chicks,” Seth says.

  Blanca looks around the small space. “I don’t hear any chirping, do you, Rian?”

  I laugh, stepping out of the elevator. “No.”

  Seth gets in and looks me up and down. “Looking good, Rian.” He nods at me as the doors slide shut between us.

  I inhale a deep breath and glance at my watch to see it’s five fifty-five. Using my key, I open the apartment door and find Jax in the kitchen, opening a bottle of water. He doesn’t look much different than he does on any normal day. A pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt with a jacket over top. His hair is still mussed up perfection any girl would want to run her fingers through. He really is hot.

  The bottle stays tipped to his lips as his gaze floats over me like a feather, pausing at my breasts, my hips, and my shoes. He’s blatantly and unapologetically checking me out. All those doubts and worries vanish.

  He stops drinking, securing the top of the bottle. “I thought you were standing me up.” His vision won’t stop dipping to my chest, and I can’t deny that it feels good to be wanted. “You look fucking hot.”

  I laugh, which spurs his own deep chuckle.

  “Let me just put this away.” I head to my room and toss a bag with the clothes I was wearing onto my bed. I check that everything I need is in my purse, adding a phone charger just in case.

  When I come back out of the bedroom, Dylan’s sitting in a chair with a water bottle in hand. I glance around not finding Jax in the room anymore, which only makes this even more awkward.

  “Hey,” Dylan says. He’s still wearing his boots, one ankle resting on the knee of his other leg. He takes pull after pull off his water bottle. His eyes move the way Jax’s did over my body, but instead of the lust that filled Jax’s eyes, distaste fills Dylan’s. “Nice look.”

  “Is that your way of complimenting me?”

  Dylan’s gaze shoots up. Even I’m surprised I had the balls to ask him, but I’m stepping out into the world with the possibility of getting hurt. When’s the last time he did that?

  “Good luck holding a conversation with him. He’ll be staring at your tits the entire night.”

  I say nothing, every retort running through my brain not nearly good enough.

  “Is that what you want, Rian? A guy who just wants to fuck you?”

  “You’re being ugly tonight.” I beeline across the room to the kitchen. “Have you seen Jax?”

  “He got a call. In his room.”

  I turn around to find Dylan’s gaze still on me. He can act like he doesn’t like what I’m wearing, but this is the first time he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off me. Our eyes lock and he quickly diverts his, raising his water bottle to his lips. Those luscious lips I dream of kissing. Ugh. Maybe going on a date with Jax is a bad idea.

  Before I have a chance to really think about why I’m doing this, Jax comes out of his bedroom. “Phillips.” He nods and shuts his door.

  “Owens.”

  The two are cordial.

  “Ready, angel?” Jax asks, holding out his hand for me.

  I nod and slide my hand into his. I’m surprised by how smooth it is.

  “See you, Phillips.” Jax never turns around as he leads me to the apartment door.

  “Have a great date. Just put a sock on the doorknob if you want to be alone later.” Dylan waves his water bottle.

  Jax laughs, opening the door and waiting for me to walk through. His hand guides me by the small of my back, and we walk down the hall in silence. The elevator arrives quickly so I don’t have to force conversation, but Jax has a different idea once we’re alone in the small space.

  “Was that as painful as it was to watch?” he asks.

  I peek up. “What do you mean?”

  “You pretending that you didn’t want Phillips and me to switch places?”

  I smile at this man I barely know but who can somehow see through me as though I’m as transparent as a piece of glass. “I’m happy to be going out with you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  The elevator stops on the bottom floor and we file out. “I’m sorry. I’m
not using you to make him jealous or anything.”

  He nods. “I didn’t figure you were the type.”

  “Do you want to call this thing off?” I ask.

  A wicked smile crosses his lips. “Hell no. You’re looking smokin’ hot and Phillips is about to rage right now. We’re going out and staying out. You might not have an agenda to make him jealous, but I like to torture the shithead.” He grabs my hand again and pushes through the front door of our apartment building.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” He winks and we stop by a motorcycle. “Have you ever ridden on one?”

  I shake my head.

  “Never with Phillips?”

  I shake my head again.

  He blows out a breath. “I guess we’re walking then.”

  I tear my hand out of his. “Wait, why? I can ride it.”

  He smirks and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks up at the apartment then down at the bike. “Your first time on a motorcycle shouldn’t be holding on to me. Everyone needs a great memory of the first time they ride, and if I allow you on my bike, you’ll regret it like girls do their virginity—always wishing they’d saved it for someone else.”

  I step toward him, my hand on his cheek, and stare into his beautiful blue eyes. “You’re sentimental?”

  “No. I’m just letting Phillips pop that cherry of yours. Contrary to what he might think, I’m not a complete asshole.” He removes my hand from his face and entwines our fingers.

  The door of the building opens and Dylan walks out, his eyes falling to mine then to where my hand is in Jax’s. He walks in the opposite direction, climbs on his bike that’s a few spots down from Jax’s, secures his helmet, then he’s gone, turning right before the yellow turns red.

  “If he’s going to be a pussy, the least I can do is show you a good time.”

  Jax tears my attention away and we walk down the sidewalk to begin our date.

  Jax takes me bowling. Which would be fine if I was wearing socks. But the gentleman he is, he buys me a pair for six dollars through the vending machine.

  “What a prince you are.” I rest my cheek on his chest and flutter my eyelashes at him.

  He shakes his head.

  It turns out that Jax isn’t intimidating once we figured out nothing would happen between us. Although he is just as big a flirt.

  We each get our shoes on and Jax asks the guy to put us at the far end of the lanes, away from other people. The kid tries to say he’s not supposed to do that but ultimately gives Jax his way. I’m pretty sure the sixteen-year-old was intimidated by the big Jax Owens.

  I slide off the heels, which is a relief. I worry for a second that I won’t be able to get my feet back into them to go home. After I tie my shoes, I jump up to pick a ball. “I haven’t bowled since I was, like, eight. There was a birthday party and it was boys versus girls.”

  Jax smiles and shakes his head as he ties his shoes. “And you kissed a boy by the bathroom?”

  “No,” I screech, and he laughs as though he expected that to be my answer.

  “How old were you when you had your first kiss?” I ask, then wave off the question. “I don’t even want to know.”

  He grabs a sixteen-pound ball and I grab a respectable ten. “You probably don’t want to know.”

  I type in our names on the electronic screen while a waitress comes over. I’m happy for the distraction. Comparing sexual conquests isn’t really a conversation I want to have with Jax. I’m pretty sure I know how I’ll stack up against him. He orders us a pizza, a pitcher of beer and two waters, and stops her before she leaves to add on an order of wings.

  When Jax slides into the chair next to me, his arm brushes mine. For a moment, I wonder what would have happened if I had met Jax before Dylan. Would I feel differently?

  “Ladies first.” He leans back, stretching both his arms long the back of the booth.

  I stand, pick up my ball, and prepare as best I can to mimic what the couples with matching shirts a few lanes down are doing. As I walk up to the line, I pull back my hand with the ball.

  “Man, you do have a great ass.”

  My foot slips, my fingers almost lodging in the ball as I bring it forward to release it. A terrible scene flashes through my mind of me splayed on the wooden lane with my arm outstretched and the ball still attached. But at the last minute, my thumb pops out and the ball slides straight into the gutter.

  When I walk back to wait for my ball to return, Jax is standing there. “Let me give you some pointers.”

  “Is this your way of getting your hands on my hips?”

  He smirks. “You’re smarter than I give you credit for.”

  “Thanks?”

  “I see what Phillips sees.”

  I turn away from him and he grabs my ball before I can, showing me where to put my fingers. He walks me up the line with one of his hands on my hip and the other on my hand holding the ball. His palm is so big, it fits over my hand.

  The ball careens down the lane and six pins go down. I jump up and Jax high fives me.

  “See? Only good things happen when my hands are on your hips.” He winks and busies himself getting his ball while I sit back down and sip my beer.

  Jax and I play two games while eating our pizza. He eats more wings than me and probably drinks more beer too. But I see why Jax and Dylan were best friends at one point. They’re so similar. They each put themselves last. Jax asked me five times if I wanted the last slice before cutting it in half and demanding we split it.

  I’m on Jax’s back when we step out of the bowling alley because as I assumed my feet are swollen and I couldn’t get the boots back on my feet.

  “Shit, it’s raining,” Jax says, raising his hand for a cab. “Looks like I don’t get the opportunity to have you on my back the whole way home.”

  A taxi that was waiting down the street parks along the curb and I slide in, Jax joining me. He gives the driver the address of our apartment and I pull out my phone for no reason but to look like I have something to do. I sit up straight when I see the first text in an exchange in our group.

  Knox: Dylan was in an accident. He’s headed to Memorial. One of you need to come because I’m still working.

  A huge boulder lands in my stomach and my lungs stop working properly. I put my head through the open space in the plastic divider and the cab driver startles.

  “We need to go to Memorial Hospital,” I say.

  Jax glances at me.

  “Dylan was in an accident.”

  His face pales for a moment, but he quickly recovers. “That asshole will do anything to ruin my date with you.” He stares out the window, leg bouncing now.

  I say nothing, tapping out a text to our friends to find out who is already there, but no one answers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dylan

  “I’m fine. Let me go home,” I repeat to the nurse who says I need an MRI of my head.

  “Just relax, will you? You’re making their job, like, ten times harder.” Seth sits in the chair to my right, watching The Bachelor and eating a bag of Funyuns.

  “I’ll be back in a few,” she says and leaves the room.

  “I hate hospitals. It’s bad enough I fucking broke my arm.” I lift my arm that’s in a temporary soft cast until some of the swelling goes down and they put on a hard cast. My left fucking arm. The one I write with, the one I wipe my ass with, and most importantly, the one I fucking tattoo people with. My head falls back to the bed. “I have no choice. I’m going to have to offer Jax a job.”

  It doesn’t seem like Seth hears me when he looks away from the screen. “Do you think you could be on this show and kiss some girl one night and another one the next? Seems a little sleazy the way the guy leads them all on, no?” He chomps down on another onion ring chip. “That probably makes me sound like a pussy. It’s probably most guys’ wet dream.”

  Knox walks in. Tha
nk fuck I get a reprieve from Bachelor talk for a moment. He’s in full uniform, gun holstered to his hip. If someone had told me when I was sixteen that Knox Whelan would be a cop, I would’ve asked them when their rocket leaves for Mars.

  “You’re being cited.” He hands me a ticket.

  “You’re ticketing your best friend?” Seth asks.

  “No. The other officer did. I’m just delivering the ticket.” Knox glances at the television, where the rose ceremony is beginning, and his eyebrows scrunch. “Failure to yield, which means this hospital bill”—he circles his finger at my arm—“is on your insurance, not the guy who hit you.”

  My head drops back to the bed again. What has happened to my life?

  Knox pulls up a chair next to my bed.

  “Hey, Knox. Do you think you could be the Bachelor?” Seth asks.

  Knox glances at the television again. “Go to exotic places and have twenty gorgeous women vying for me? Yeah, I think I could.” His tone says, “Is that even a fucking question?”

  “So I’m the pussy.” Seth brings his Coke to his lips.

  Knox leaves Seth to watch television. Knox has those same eyes I got when Winnie died. The same ones he gave me when I watched Jax make stupid-ass decisions and did nothing. Strike my earlier comment—Knox Whelan was meant to be a cop.

  “The witnesses said you were reckless,” he says. “That with the rain, you took the corner faster than you should have.”

  He’s telling the facts instead of asking me questions. It’s his way. He wants to know what’s on my mind. Out of everyone, Knox knows I don’t share my problems because people try to fix them and give me those damn looks of pity. That’s not changing now.

  I could tell him it’s about business, which isn’t a complete lie. Add on this hospital stay and my insurance deductible, the fact that I’ll be out of work until my arm is out of the cast, and it all leads to one word—broke!

  But the reason I sped through that light was because Rian was stunningly beautiful when she left our apartment to go out with another guy. And not just any guy. Not the smart accountant I always envisioned her marrying. My archenemy. A guy who hates me so much, he’ll do anything to hurt me. Jax is a smart guy. It probably took him five minutes in a room with Rian and me to figure out there are hidden feelings there. Jax also knows me well enough to know why I’ve never done anything about it.