The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

“Yup, let’s rock and roll,” I said with a grim nod.

We took off at an easy jog, letting our muscles warm up and getting into the groove. Cullen chattered about a blind date he’d gone on that went horribly wrong, and I found myself having to slow my pace because I was laughing so hard.

“A lot of people have pictures of themselves in their apartments, Cull. I have a couple of me and you hiking, and that fishing trip-”

“No, see, that’s what I mean,” he said, shooting me an incredulous look over his shoulder as he jogged. “These weren’t group shots. It was literally just dozens of pictures of herself with her cats on every available surface. They were everywhere. In some, she was looking over one shoulder, like old-style glamour shots, and in others, she was leaning her chin on her hand looking off into the distance. So when I mentioned that she sure had a lot of pictures of herself, you know what she said?”

I shook my head, waiting for the punch line.

“She said, ‘If I don’t love myself, how is anyone else going to love me?'”

I chuckled and sprinted toward him to catch up again. “Isn’t that like a Dr. Phil quote or some shit?”

“It is. In fact, I’m pretty sure ninety percent of the things she said to me were Dr. Phil quotes. It was bizarre. But to top it all off, when I left, she said, ‘I don’t usually do this on the first date, but I really like you,’ and she kissed my forehead, like she was my great aunt or some shit. I’m telling you, bro, she was whacked.”

“So, when are you going to see her again?” I quipped.

He threw his head back and laughed. “Actually, I gave her your number. Hope that’s cool?”

As we wound our way around the lake, I couldn’t help but feel that twinge of nostalgia creeping in. Cullen really was like a brother to me, and I missed this. But since I’d started spending time with Evie, my own guilt over the situation made it almost painful to be around him. It was definitely time to tear off this fucking Band-Aid.

“Sounds like that’s one for the books,” I said lightly. “Speaking of dating, anything going on with your sister in that department? Been a long time since she’s had a boyfriend. Last one I recall was in high school, and even that was barely a thing.”

Cullen shot me a puzzled look and shrugged. “No clue. I don’t ask her about that shit. Mainly because I’m afraid she’ll actually tell me. You don’t get it because Pam is older, I guess, but it’s weird thinking about your little sister . . .” He trailed off and let out a disgusted growl. “You know what I mean.”

“I hear you,” I muttered, resisting the urge to change the subject and abort this clusterfuck of a mission altogether.

Suck it up, asshole.

There were only two options here. Tell him, or end it with Evie. Somehow in the past few weeks, option number two was no longer on the table.

I drew in a breath and let loose the first sally. “She’s a twenty-two-year-old woman, Cullen. She’s got to grow up sometime. Don’t you want to see her find a good guy and settle down? Maybe have a family someday?”

His reply came back without hesitation. “Nope.”

Guilt gave way to irritation, and I scowled at him. “That’s a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

His gait faltered as he turned his head to stare at me. “No, I don’t think. And I’m trying to figure out why the fuck you’re asking me this shit right now.”

I slowed, and suddenly the sound of his feet pounding the dirt beside me stopped.

Jesus, this was going to suck.

I stopped and turned to face him. He stood, his hands loosely on his hips, but there was nothing casual about his expression.

“You got something to tell me, Smith?”

The anger was already there, bubbling right beneath the surface. As much as I hated being the target of it, this conversation had been an eye-opener, and I knew now more than ever it was the right thing to do, no matter how ugly it got.

His eyes were trained on my face, his jaw clenched as he pressed. “Why all the questions, Smith?”

“Asking for a friend?” I shot back with a smirk, one last attempt to bring things down a notch and keep it light. But Cullen was having no part of it.

“I can’t even believe you’re thinking about this. She’s twenty-two. She’s practically a fucking kid,” he snapped, pacing now like a caged lion. Then he stopped in his tracks, his cheeks going chalk white. “Are you fucking her already?” he demanded in a whisper that somehow felt shittier than if he’d shouted it at me.

“No.”NôvelDrama.Org: text © owner.