“A spare bedroom?” Matt asked, and I turned to glower at him.
“Yeah.”
“Is, uh, is anyone staying in that spare bedroom?” he asked.
Furrowing my brow, I shook my head. “Nope. No roommates for this girl. Just me.”
“Hmmm.” He pursed his lips, and I could almost see the wheels turning inside his mind.
“There you go, Matt!” Tony slapped the bar. “You can live with Jo!”
“What?” I choked on the sip of margarita I’d just taken.
“Matt lost his place to VRBO, and as of this weekend he’s homeless,” Aaron said. “I offered to let him sleep on my couch, but he said no.”
“I’ve seen the chicks you bring home to that couch.” Matt shuddered, and the visual caused me to do the same.
“My girlfriend isn’t keen on having another dude in the house, something about toilet seats and dirty underwear, so I’m out,” Tony said. “So yeah, you can move in with Jo! It’s perfect!”
“Hell. No.” Shaking my head, I crossed my arms.
Matt dropped his gaze to the bar, his shoulders slumping forward as he gave up the fight before it started.
“Oh, come on, Jo.” Tony bumped me with an elbow. “He was your best friend. Are you really going to make him homeless when you have a bedroom he could live in?”
“Yep.”
“Jo,” Aaron soothed. “It’s time to get over this. You need to forgive him. We all forgave him. It’s your turn.”
“Nope.”
Forgiveness was not my thing.
“You’d really turn your back on a friend in need?” Tony shook his head.
“No. I would never turn my back on a friend in need. But Matt isn’t my friend, so it’s irrelevant.”
“Guys, it’s fine. I don’t expect Jo to let me move in with her. I’ll figure something out.”
The defeat in his voice plucked away at the tiny threads of empathy residing somewhere deep inside me. But I waged a war to stop their resonating before they grew too loud to ignore. Matt was a betrayer. Matt didn’t deserve my forgiveness or my mercy. Nope. I wouldn’t lose one second of sleep over where Matt would lay his two-faced head.
Then why do I feel so guilty saying no?
Shaking off the nagging guilt brewing inside me, I lifted my chin and tried to change the subject. “Who’s up for another round of bar dice.”
“I’m in.” Aaron grabbed the cup.
“I lost. I go first.” Matt reached across me to confiscate it. When his hand brushed across mine, I yanked it back, startled by the sensation from the touch that used to be so familiar. So natural. His wide eyes locked onto mine for a moment before darting away.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“And I’m sorry those guys are trying to force you to take me in. I don’t blame you for saying no. It’s fine,” he said, chuckling to hide the desperation lingering just below the surface.
I didn’t answer.
“Although, if you happen to change your mind,” he said, then raised his hands in submission, “though I don’t expect you to, I am super handy and can help you fix up the cabin.”
The cabin did need a lot of work. A new roof, new flooring, work on the plumbing, new appliances... the to-do list was longer than my arm. Having grown up as a tomboy, I was pretty handy with tools, but these projects were a little out of my skill set. But it was a skill set Matt had in spades. Ever since we were kids, he could fix any problem that came up and build anything he dreamed of creating. Since my father wasn’t around while we were growing up, he’d even helped out around my house when my mom needed work done. He’d repaired broken faucets, retiled our bathroom, installed new flooring, and offered to help her with any handyman projects that popped up. He’d always refused to be paid even when she insisted, knowing our money was tight. But to quell her guilt over all the free work, he’d always accept a batch of his favorite cookies.
For a moment I contemplated his offer, thinking having Matt and his extensive skill set with construction and building would be a smart move. Hiring out all the work was going to be a lot of money, and it was all work that Matt could do with ease. Considering his offer for a heartbeat, I shook my head.
“I can’t. Sorry. After what you did, I just can’t.”
“I get it. It was unforgiveable. Hell, I’ll never forgive myself for falling for Nikki’s temptations and betraying Jake.” He looked up, those dark eyes meeting mine. “But, I did. And there’s nothing I can do to take it back. But I really am sorry, Jo. I miss you. So much.”
I missed him, too. More than I would ever admit to anyone, and it would seem even myself, because sitting next to him after spending a year apart was like torture. I missed how hard he could make me laugh, how comforting his hugs were when I was having a bad day, and how easy it was to be with him. He got me. He always had, and I missed the best friend who’d been at my side since the day I could walk.
But he is a liar. A cheat and a liar. And that violates the friend code.
That realization stung the worst. The man I would have trusted with my life had morphed into the lowest of the low and finding out the person I thought I’d known better than anyone in the world was an untrustworthy piece of crap had shaken my world to the core.
Fighting to keep the words I miss you, too lodged inside my mouth where they belonged, I took a sip of my margarita to keep it busy.
“Hopefully someday you’ll forgive me. But until then, I’m not going to stop trying.”
With that, he shook his bar dice and spilled them out onto the bar.
“Fifty-six in one. Beat that, Jo.” He smiled and pushed the cup my way.
The softness of his smile, and the warmth he radiated with it, assaulted the icy wall I’d built around myself whenever he came near. Fighting to resist the heat threatening to turn it into a puddle at my feet, I glared at him and took the dice cup.
“You’re on.”
CHAPTER THREE
JO
“Ugh,” I groaned into my pillow. Six hours of running at break-neck speed behind the bar last night, and the four winning rounds of bar dice I’d played that ended with Bernie shots, had taken a toll on my body. Every muscle screamed for relief and jockeyed for position in the pain department, competing for first place with the throbbing in my head no doubt caused by too much tequila.
With a desperate need for a giant glass of water forcing me to move my aching bones, I pushed off the covers and sat up in bed. Petunia, my new cat, sat at the end of the bed, her green eyes penetrating me while she stared, her silent demands for breakfast well understood.
“Morning, Petunia,” I said as I stretched. “Don’t ever drink tequila. Tequila is bad. Very bad.”
She sat unmoving, and I followed her demanding gaze as it slid to the partially empty food bowl in the corner.
“It’s not even empty yet. There are starving cats in the world who would kill for the leftovers you seem too good to finish.”
She just blinked her response.
“Fine. I’ll fill it, but this is the last time. From now on you finish it before I fill it again. We aren’t wasteful in this household, Petunia.”
Rubbing my head, I leaned over to my bedside table, picking up my phone to check the time. Nine in the morning. Not bad. As a bartender, sleeping until noon wasn’t unheard of, and since I was nocturnal by nature, it was a good career fit for me. However, with the number of things I needed to get done around the cabin today before heading back to work, I’d take those extra hours of awake time. Two new messages sat unopened on my phone, so I clicked the unknown number and gasped when I saw the string of words that addled my brain and flipped my heart over.
Morning, Roomster! I’m packing up my truck right now and heading over before you can change your mind. Last chance to say no. I know tequila greased the wheels into getting you to agree to this, so just text me if you don’t want me to move in. I’ll understand.
Roomster? Move in
? What the what? Whose number was... I gasped, clasping a hand over my mouth. I may not know the number, but I knew who’d sent the message. Matt. I’d deleted Matt’s number last year when I’d vowed to never speak to him again, but there was only one person who would be texting me about moving in. Memories of last night assaulted my body like incoming enemy fire. The pleading eyes. The insistence from Tony and Aaron that I let him move in. The last round of bar dice when I’d gambled away the spot in my empty room and... lost.
Shit! I hadn’t won every round last night. There had been a fifth one... the round where I’d agreed to let Matt move in if I didn’t win. Then I remembered him tossing his arm around my shoulder and calling me “Roomster” after I’d rolled a losing round of nothing but aces.
Like the universe was conspiring against me.
No. No, no, no, no, NO!
What time had he sent this message? Maybe I still had time to respond and tell him no. Hell no, in fact. But I scrolled down and saw the message had been sent at eight in the morning, and there was another message he sent a half hour ago.
Okay! Since you haven’t messaged to tell me no, I’m officially on my way, Roomster! Thank you, Jo! You’re a lifesaver! You won’t regret it!
Scrambling to text him back before he pulled into my driveway, hoping to send him back to anywhere that wasn’t here, I started typing a message back. But then I heard tires grinding on the gravel just outside my cabin, and I groaned. I was too late. He was here.
Realizing I was wearing nothing but underwear and a tank top, I leapt out of bed and hopped into a pair of shorts, tripping over my feet while I tried to yank them on.
“Hey, Roomster! I’m here!” Matt called, and I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs to my porch.
“Just a second!” I realized my shorts were on backward, so I ripped them off and hurried to get them back on. In my rush, I put both legs in the same hole, and when I went to pull them up, they stopped just short of my thighs. As I stood with my legs mushed together, stretching the one leg hole of my shorts to near ripping, I looked up to see him arrive at the screen door that was kitty-corner from my bedroom. Our eyes met, and he took one look at my black boy short underwear and then looked up at my horror-stricken face and spun around.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed, and the door was open.”
“The door isn’t open,” I spat, pushing the shorts down and getting my legs into the appropriate holes.
“Well, it’s a screen door, and totally see-through, so it’s pretty much the same thing as open. I’m really sorry... I just—”
I could hear the laughter laced with the words, and his amusement caused my temper to flare. “Just forget you ever saw anything.” The elastic waistband snapped into place.
“Are you decent?”
“Yes. I’m decent.”
“I’m turning around now.” Covering his face, he slowly turned around, peeking out between spread fingers. When he saw me wearing the shorts correctly this time, he pulled his hand from his face, a sexy smirk still tugging his lips upward. “Can I come in?”
With a heavy sigh, I nodded. As he stepped through the door, his gaze slipped to my breasts for a beat before wide eyes lifted to meet mine. My eyes bulged when I realized I may be wearing a tank top, but I wasn’t wearing a bra. Heat scalded my cheeks as I crossed my arms and covered the breasts this thin tank top did little to hide.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t just see that, too,” he said, forcing his eyes to stay with mine.
“Give me a second.” I spun on my heel and disappeared into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. My plush white robe hung on the back of the door, so I tossed it on, tying the waist sash tight. With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped back out.
“Are you actually decent this time?”
“Yes,” I said, still struggling to force the heat from my cheeks.
“Did you... did you forget I was coming? Forget about last night?” The mirth that usually resided in his eyes flickered out, and a heavy layer of sadness tugged them down to the ground. Back in the day if someone had put that sadness in his eyes, I’d have given them a date with my fist, but this time I’d put it there. But this Matt wasn’t the same one I’d have laid down in front of a train to save. Last year, that version of Matt had become dead to me.
“Listen, I had a lot of tequila last night and I was exhausted after my shift. I just... this isn’t a good idea.” I crossed my arms over my breasts for good measure.
“Oh.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, his eyes fixated on my wood floor. “Yeah. No, you’re right. It was a stupid idea. I’m sorry I dropped in on you. I’ll catch you later, Jo.”
As he started to turn toward the door, shoulders slumped like the weight of the world pushed them down, that nagging guilt wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed. Hard.
Shit.
“Okay. Wait,” I said, wishing the words would stop falling out of my mouth. This was a terrible idea. Not only did I not want a roommate, but having the man who I no longer trusted, the man who’d let me down, sharing this tiny space was a recipe for disaster. But when he turned back, the light returning to his eyes, I heaved a sigh. “Fine. You can stay. But...” I raised my hand. “Just until you find somewhere else more permanent.”
“Really?” His mocha eyes flickered even brighter. “Seriously? I can stay?”
“For a little while,” I reminded him. “Just until you can go somewhere else. I may hate your guts, but even I’m not a big enough asshole to make you sleep in your truck when I have an empty bedroom.”
Clutching his hands to his heart, he stepped toward me. “You are not going to regret this, Jo. I swear to you that I’m going to be the best roommate ever!”
“Yeah, well you’re already off to a bad start. But you’re paying rent. I may have inherited this place mortgage free, but property taxes for waterfront property in Door County are a bitch.”
“Done. I’ll pay them.”
“And you can help me fix up this place. It needs a lot of work.”
His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Martha Stewart will be begging to live here when I’m done with it.”
Pursing my lips, I sucked on my cheek while I started compiling a list of ground rules in my mind.
Awkward silence settled between us. No longer were we the two old friends who never ran out of things to talk about, but instead it felt like we were two strangers struggling to find even an inch of common ground to stand on. The seconds ticked by as we shifted our gazes to anywhere but each other.
“So.” Sliding his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels.
I sucked the air through my teeth. “So.”
More awkward silence. More shifting gazes. More of that sense of regret growing like a weed in my gut. Why did I just agree to this?
“Is this my room then?” He pointed a thumb toward the door opposite my bedroom.
“Yep.” I nodded, then followed him in.
“This really is a tiny cabin. Just the two bedrooms, living room with the kitchenette, and the bathroom?”
“Yep,” I answered, sticking with my one-word responses, more words ceasing to form as I let Matt’s presence settle over me. Why did I have to do all those Bernies last night? If I’d have just grabbed my tips and gone home, I never would have seen those puppy-dog eyes begging me for a place to stay. That tequila wouldn’t have clouded my judgement and made me wager something as significant as a room in my house. Ugh. No more Bernies for this girl.
He slid his hand along the wooden logs that comprised the walls of this old cabin. “Are you staying here all winter?”
“Yep.”
“These are going to need a little insulation repair, so you don’t freeze to death. See the cracks here?”
I followed his finger along the gaps between the logs I hadn’t even noticed before.
“I can chink or caulk the walls and really help hold the heat in this winter. You�
��ll save a lot on heating costs and it won’t get so drafty.”
“Wow. Thanks,” I said, still trying to process the fact that Matt, who I’d sworn never to speak to again, was marching around my cabin. Or as of a few minutes ago, our cabin.
“The windows could use some updating, but I can handle that.” He stepped around me and headed back out into the small living room. “I can refinish the floors and really bring out the natural beauty of the wood, and a pellet stove could fit right here.” He pointed to the vacant spot on the exterior wall. “It will heat this whole place without any issue and save you a ton of money in the winter.”
Speechless over his remodeling ideas, I followed him to the other side of the room to the bathroom. When he pushed open the door and looked inside, his face dropped.
“Whoa. This is... wow. This is a gut job.” Laughing, he poked at the shower stall that was little more than a thin plastic shell, then looked at the rusted old sink and the toilet that sat at an angle. “I’m surprised there isn’t like a wooden barrel with a chain for the shower and a hole in the ground for a toilet. In fact, that may be an upgrade.”
His laughter bounced off the walls of my bathroom, and I tried not to let it wear me down any more than that smile of his did when he aimed it at me. Charming. Infectious. Warm. All the things I adored about the Matt I used to know. The one who looked and sounded a hell of a lot like the one who was beaming at me right now.
He’s a liar. A cheater. A betrayer.
Nope. Jake may have found it in his big, softie of a heart to forgive Matt for his transgression, but I wasn’t going to let it slide. The cut ran too deep. The damage too extreme. Stiffening against his charm, I lifted my chin. “Whatever you think is best, but keep in mind I can’t afford a whole lot of extravagant upgrades. Just the basics.”
“You don’t need to pay me a penny for labor, and since I’m footing the property taxes, you’ll have extra money to put into upgrades. See? Having me move in is the best thing that can happen to you!” His wide grin stretched across his unarguably handsome face, and I had to fight extra hard not to grin back at him. That same magnetic smile had sent me swooning when I was a young girl with a crush the size of Texas.
The Other Room (Door Peninsula Passions Book 2) Page 3
