The Roommate Equation

by Jillian Quinn

  Ash hops off the counter with her plate in hand. Before I can move out of her way, her enchiladas smash into my chest. Some of her food falls onto the floor, splashing across the tile. I glance down at the stain in the center of my shirt. Perfect. I bought this shirt for the meeting, and now it’s trashed.

  Ash’s mouth widens. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “I guess this will teach me not to wear white when I eat Mexican food.”

  Sloan enters the kitchen. He pulls out a chair from the table and plops down, resting his dress shoe on his knee. “Is it time to eat? I’m starving.”

  “You have two hands.” I tip my head toward the stove. “Go fix yourself a plate.”

  I bend down to clean up the fallen enchilada, and the sauce splattered across the tile. Ash helps me clean, apologizing profusely before she rushes out of the kitchen.

  “I have to change my shirt,” I tell Sloan. “Start eating without me.”

  Sloan bobs his head and then gets up from the table with his plate in hand.

  I find Ash in her bedroom, the door open and her back to me. My first instinct is to stay, even though I should walk away. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and digs through her drawers for a new shirt.

  Ash turns around when she hears my shoes moved across the hardwood floor. Her breath hitches when I lean in, digging my hip into hers. She should push me away, but she wants this as much as I do. Our lips are inches apart, and when our eyes meet, I can feel the sexual tension between us like sparks on my skin.

  Sloan is down the hall, busy eating dinner. Right now, he could care less about what we’re doing. He would never suspect that we like each other, not with the way we have fought in front of him over the years.

  Our sexual frustration masked as hatred has served us well over the years, providing us with the perfect cover. Even when we dated, we acted as if nothing had changed in front of Sloan. Like we didn’t know every surface of each other’s skin, or how good the other tasted.

  I grip Ash’s hips, pinning her in place, using my body to cage her against the dresser. She leans back on her elbows and closes her eyes, her lips plump and shiny with cherry gloss. I can’t help myself. I wish I could stop myself, but I need to feel her one more time.

  When I brush my lips against hers, Ash purrs so softly it goes straight to my balls. I breathe in her scent, drink in her familiar smell that I have thought about for years. No one has come close to replacing Ash. Over the years, I have tried to get her out of my head, but no one can replace the only woman you have ever loved.

  There is no substitute for Ash.

  I brush my lips against hers again to test the waters and see if she will let me keep going. The corners of her mouth turn up into a smile that illuminates her bright blue irises.

  “Dylan,” Ash breathes. “This is a terrible idea. Sloan could walk in here any minute.”

  “Do you remember what I asked you seven years ago?”

  “Can I keep a secret?”

  I nod in answer.

  “We got away with Sloan not knowing about us. But if he found us in here, with your lips on mine and your hands on my body, it would start a war. You have a big meeting tonight.” Ash slides her hands up my chest, holding my gaze. “You need to focus on what’s important.”

  “I am,” I say without hesitation.

  She sighs. “Go change. Sloan will get suspicious if we’re both gone for too long.”

  I tug on her shirt. “You should throw this in the washer before the sauce sets.”

  She glances down at the speckles of red sauce on the fabric and frowns before pulling the shirt over her head.

  What the fuck is she doing?

  I can’t help but stare at her nipples that poke through the lacy black bra. My cock jerks at the sight of her smooth skin dusted with freckles that dip between her cleavage. It’s not like I haven’t seen her naked hundreds of time before, but this time is different. We’re not together. Sloan is close enough to walk in on us at any time.

  Ash pushes open the bathroom door and runs cold water over her shirt, rubbing at the spot. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she says, working feverishly to get the stains out.

  I bend down to press my lips against her ear, “If you undress in front of me again, I won’t stop myself from ripping off the rest of your clothes.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dylan

  Ash is testing my self-control in this dress. She changed into a tight, red dress that stops mid-thigh, her tits spilling out from the top. Sloan begged her to wear something less revealing, which I seconded, and when Ash refused, Sloan asked me to look after her tonight.

  Not like I’m the right person for the job.

  “Keep Ash close,” Sloan says.

  “I got it the first hundred times,” I shoot back.

  Sloan gives me an angry scowl but doesn’t push the subject. If Ash were any closer to me, she would be in my lap. He hasn’t stopped worrying about her since we got here.

  The three of us slip past the people waiting in line as the bouncer lifts the velvet rope for us. A pop song belts through the speakers. The music vibrates the floor, the sensation spreading up my thighs. With Ash swaying her hips in front of me, I can’t think straight. I need to be on my A-Game tonight. Sloan needs my undivided attention, and so does Date Crashers.

  Sloan is in front of us, hitting on the waitress who is flirting back, while I keep an eye on Ash. She clings to my side, moving to her right to get out of the way of an incoming group. Sliding my hand to her hip, I pull her closer to me, allowing a drunken couple to pass.

  Sloan is busy with the hot brunette leading us to the VIP section. So, I keep my hand on Ash’s ass for a few seconds longer to see if she’ll tell me to stop. She tips her head toward Sloan, and I nod. I’m fully aware of Sloan’s proximity and the fact that she doesn’t push me away.

  Once we reach the VIP area, I sit on the couch next to Ash. She folds her arms across her chest, pushing her tits out even more. I have to stop looking at her, but it’s hard not to notice Ash.

  Sloan grabs three bottles of Heineken from the bed of ice on the table in front of us and passes two of them to Ash and me. Ash takes it with an appreciative smile and gulps down half of the beer before I can raise the bottle to my lips. The music is so loud it’s near impossible to hear Sloan when he speaks.

  I raise my hand to my ear, motioning that I can’t hear him. Sloan gets up from the couch across from me and sits on my left side.

  “Max texted me. They’re here.” He taps my knee and grins. “You ready to get into the dating business?”

  “Technically, we’re already are in the business.”

  He tilts his head back and laughs. “Not quite, bro. We break people up. Now, we get the chance to bring them together… and offer them a way out if their date sucks.” He shrugs. “Win-win, right? No matter what, we can’t lose with this deal.”

  “I’m not comfortable giving up more interest in the company,” I admit. “This could end up going sideways for us.”

  “Nah.” Sloan waves his hand dismissively. “I crunched the numbers. We’re good.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Since when do you look at the numbers?”

  “Since we’re about to make the biggest deal of our careers.”

  “The numbers work,” I assure him. “But we don’t need another investor swooping in to take more of our company from us.”

  By the time we closed our final round of funding, we ended up owning only seventy percent of Date Crashers. Neither of us had a trust fund or a rich uncle who could loan us the money. We were still at MIT when we had our first offer for funding. I didn’t see any other way to grow Date Crashers. And now, we have to give Exact Match ten percent of our company if we want to partner with them on our expansion plans.

  “Mind if we crash the party?”

  Maxwell Carter, the CEO and majority shareholder of Exact Match, runs a hand through his dark brown hair an
d then extends it to me.

  I hesitate for a second, considering how nasty it is to touch his hand after being in his hair. Sloan nudges me in the side with his elbow. He reminds me to act normal when my brain forces my body to come to a screeching halt.

  I take his hand, and Max pulls me up to my feet, greeting me like an old friend. Sloan stands, and they exchange the same uncomfortable pleasantries. His partners, Ryan and Shawn, who are Max’s younger brothers, are at his sides. Max slides his arm behind the back of a beautiful, raven-haired woman wearing an emerald dress that molds to her petite body.

  “Savanna?” Ash steps forward, her mouth wide with shock. “Oh, my God! You’re married now?”

  Savanna and Ash hug and all of us stand there, confused.

  “Are you still acting?” Savanna asks Ash.

  So, that’s how they know each other.

  Ash shakes her head. “I’m working for Vinnie Sax.”

  Savanna’s smile widens. “You work for Vinnie? Wow! What’s the chance of that?” She looks at Sloan and me, and then her gaze shifts back to Ash. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sloan’s my brother.” She moves her finger between Sloan and me with a silly expression on her face. “I’m living with these idiots until I can move back into my apartment.”

  Who is she calling an idiot?

  Savanna asks more questions, and Ash fills her in on her current living situation. They talk about the last auditions they went on, and I can tell Ash is hurting on the inside when Savanna tells her about the part in a movie she recently scored. Instinctively, I cup Ash’s shoulder for support, and she shoots me a warning look. Given the situation, Sloan won’t mind if I show Ash some comfort.

  “I’m glad your sister’s here,” Max tells Sloan. “She can entertain Savanna while the men handle business.”

  He bends down to talk to his wife, who beams with delight as he whispers into her ear. She smiles and then smacks a kiss on his cheek. Savanna tugs on Ash’s arm, and she turns to exchange a few words with her.

  Ash pounds the rest of her beer and announces that she’s leaving with Savanna to dance.

  Sloan shakes his head.

  “You’re not my dad,” Ash snaps.

  “Stay where we can see you,” Sloan says.

  Ash rolls her eyes, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Savanna assures Sloan with a bright smile that looks more wicked than sweet. “Your sister is in good hands.”

  “She is,” Max promises, kissing his wife on her forehead, and then he turns to face Sloan. “Let the girls do their thing. We have some drinking to do.”

  This is how Max and his brothers prefer to handle business. I’m down for whatever, but I don’t like the ides of Ash dancing with strange men. She looks gorgeous in her dress, like a sexy goddess with a body made for sin.

  After Max steals Sloan’s attention, getting him to forget about his constant worrying over his sister, Ash taps me on the shoulder. Our eyes meet, and she leans forward, her fingers digging into my bicep. With her lips close to my ear, her breath on my skin sends a shiver down my neck.

  “Come find me when you can get away from Sloan.” She sticks out her tongue, and it brushes my earlobe so softly my cock jerks from the sudden contact. “You owe me a conversation… and a dance.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ash

  I’m a cocktease, but Dylan deserved to get a taste of his own medicine after teasing me earlier. He promised to rip my clothes off next time, and now I can’t stop thinking about the next time.

  Dylan makes my head spin, throwing my emotions and self-control out of whack. Tonight has to go well for my brother. He stressed it on our car ride to the club at least a dozen times. So, I will be on my best behavior.

  When we reach the dance floor, the club is in full swing. Savanna raises her hands above her head and screams. She sways her narrow hips to the techno beat, leading me through the crowd. We push past the sweat-slick bodies and make a place for ourselves at the center of the dance floor.

  Savanna gathers her hair into her hands and throws it over her right shoulder, moving to the beat that cranks through the speakers. “What’s up with your brother?”

  I roll my shoulders, attempting to lose myself to the music. “He’s protective.”

  “He was acting like I’m a serial killer about to lead you into my killing den.”

  “Hey, this is California,” I joke. “You never know.”

  She chuckles, throwing her hands above her head.

  “So, you got a part in The Hunted?” I ask to change the subject.

  Her face illuminates with a smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Can you believe it? A major motion picture for once. No more commercials or TV episodes. At least not until filming wraps. I hate seeing my name next to Patient Number Four or Mean Girl Number Two in the credits.”

  I would love to see my name in any credits, regardless of the role, but hey, we can’t always get what we want. Savanna beams with excitement while I secretly die on the inside. I’m happy for her, believe me, I am. I don’t want to be jealous. It’s not in my nature to allow myself to feel that emotion. But right now, it’s taking my body and mind by storm.

  I hug Savanna and get a whiff of sweat mixed with her flowery perfume. “Congrats, girl. You deserve it.”

  We met at an audition for a walk-on part in a television show, and when we ran into each other for the third time, we decided to stay in contact. I thought Savanna would land the lead role in a new murder investigation pilot similar to CSI, but we both messed up our lines. Savanna stumbled out of the casting room in tears. I was so nervous my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  Until tonight, I hadn’t seen her in over a year.

  “Pinch me,” she says. “Because it still doesn’t feel real.”

  I pinch her arm and laugh.

  “You work for Vinnie Sax,” she yells, her mouth inches from my ear. “Talk to him. He would rep you.”

  “Yeah, right. Vinnie only represents the top actors in Hollywood. He would laugh in my face if I asked him to help me get a role.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup.” She blows me a kiss. “You were always tougher than me. If anyone can handle this business, it’s you.”

  Acting is not for the faint of heart. You need to have a strong back and an even thicker spine if you want to survive in this business. It takes a lot of talent and determination to force yourself to endure the rude comments from casting directors. And even more confidence and self-love to push through the darkest moments.

  These people will break you down if you let them. I guess, in some ways, I have allowed them to win. All of their nasty comments and constant rejections has gotten into my head. Dylan helped me with my lines when we were together. He used to tell me that I had talent and not to give up on my dreams. But it’s easy for him to say. Everything he touches turns to gold.

  After I dance with Savanna for a while, the men join us on the dance floor. Sloan hands me a fresh beer. Dylan gives me one of his cocky smirks that go straight to my core. Max bends down to whisper into Savanna’s ear, and she nods. The boys look pleased, so it must have worked in their favor.

  And I guess I served my purpose.

  After we fall into a nice groove, Sloan latches onto a tall blonde who runs her long nails down his arm. I keep my fingers crossed that she can keep him busy long enough for me to talk to Dylan.

  Savanna clings to her husband like plastic wrap, molding her thin body to his muscular frame. They look like a couple in love, like the kind of people you see in movies and think, I want to be them. Yeah, this girl has it all now. And I’m still trying to get my shit together, fighting my unwanted feelings for my brother’s best friend after all these years.

  Dylan taps his hip into mine. His beautiful blue irises have sadness in them that makes my stomach knot. He wants me as much as I want him. It might seem like our relationship was built on sexual desi
re, but with Dylan, we had so much more. Sex was only a bonus.

  With Sloan occupied, Dylan suggests we get another beer. We move in the opposite direction of my brother, headed toward the bar. Dylan grips my hips from behind, steering me where he wants. He dips his head down to speak against my ear.

  “I told Sloan I’ll watch you tonight. But I never said I would behave myself.”

  I smile up at him. “You’re such a bad boy.”

  He wiggles his eyebrows with a playful expression on his handsome face. Dylan takes the empty bottle from my hand and drops it onto the bar. He orders another round for us, and we wait, surrounded by dozens of people. From this vantage point, Sloan would never find us.

  My skin pricks with electricity when Dylan slides his hands down my arms until his fingers are digging into my hips. I grip his muscular biceps, holding onto him like a vise as I sway my hips, grinding against him.

  A sensual look crosses his face, his eyes holding mine. We don’t need to exchange words. He wants me, that much he made clear in my bedroom earlier. All week Dylan has made comments about my body, and I love the way he used to worship me. Like I’m a goddess put on this earth for him to please. He made me feel loved and special, and during times of serious self-doubt, he made me feel whole again.

  “Be careful,” I say. “If Sloan sees us…”

  “Sloan’s too busy to notice us.”

  We grab our beers from the bartender, and then Dylan moves me away from the bar, closer to the back hallway but still on the main dance floor. Spinning around, I raise my arms above my head, and dance like no one is watching. As if Dylan isn’t burning a hole through me with his intense gaze.

  I back up into his erection that’s now pressing into my ass, rubbing my butt on him to see if he’ll take the bait. We can play these games all we want. For years, we have tried to fight our attraction for one another. It’s been a long fourteen months since my last boyfriend. And for those months, I’ve been lonely and horny and wishing I could have one more night with Dylan.