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“I didn’t know the Brits weren’t. I thought you were stuck up, prudish people stuck in the sixteen-hundreds.” I paused. “And I’m not a prude. It’s just too early for this.” I waved my hand to motion over his whole body.
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Saylor, I’m making a cup of tea, getting some paracetamol for my raging headache, then going to get dressed. Do you think you can last ninety seconds?”
“I went to bed last night wearing a tank top that’s too big and both my boobs popped out.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Would you be okay if I took off my sweater and let the girls roam free?”
“Hey, if you want to free your boobs, then free your boobs. You can do what you want.” He shrugged.
I didn’t know if he was being serious, so I did what any person irritated at being awake this early would do.
Put down my coffee and pulled my sweater over my head, all the while praying to whatever deity that was listening that my boobs wouldn’t pop out like whack-a-mole.
They listened, and the girls stayed safely inside the tank top.
Dylan did nothing more than give me a withering look that held more than a hint of amusement. The kettle popped to announce it was boiled, and he turned away to fix his cup of tea.
Well, now I was cold.
That’s what I got for being a pain in the ass.
I pulled my sweater back on, ignoring his chuckle, and took my coffee to the sofa. Unfortunately, he followed me, still wearing nothing but a towel.
“Put some damn clothes on!” I snapped when he sat down.
“Hey, you’re usually still in bed at this point. If anything, you’re interrupting my routine.”
“Your routine? Of what? Scratching your balls and watching the sports news every morning?”
He looked me dead in the eye, slipped his hand under the towel, and scratched his balls.
“And you wonder why you’re single,” I muttered, grabbing the remote before he could.
“Probably the same reason you are. I’m a royal pain in the ass.” He grinned behind his cup.
“I—” I paused. “Yeah, that’s fair. I work hard at this, I’ll have you know.”
“Oh, I know. I do live here.” He looked at the TV. “Plus you’re still interrupting my morning routine.”
“I highly doubt the sports news has changed since last night.”
“And the entertainment news has?”
“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I don’t really watch it. I just don’t want to hear about… Whatever is happening in baseball or something.”
“Don’t mention baseball,” Dylan said quickly. “Especially not around Seb.”
“Uh-oh.”
“His doctor didn’t clear him for heavier weights. He’s having a rough time.” He met my eyes. “I don’t think he’ll ever play again.”
My heart sank. For as long as I could remember, all Seb had ever wanted to do was play baseball. Then he tore his rotator cuff and came home to rehab, but we all knew him never returning to the team was a real possibility.
I just… never thought it would actually happen.
“You think?” I asked quietly.
Dylan nodded. “Despite his hard work, his tear was a really bad one. By the time he’s fully healed, there’s no saying if the team will even need him back. Their new pitcher really improved toward the end of the season, plus he’s only twenty-two. It’s easier to hedge your bets on a younger guy.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“God knows. Probably annoy Holley until she locks herself in the storeroom at the store.”
“Not unheard of,” I mused. “Can’t you do anything?”
“I’m a personal trainer, darlin’. I’m not Jesus.”
“If you don’t shave your beard, you’ll start to look like him.”
“Sorry, Mum. I’ll get right to it.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so lucky you have me as a roommate. Nobody else in this town would put up with your shit.”
Dylan paused on the edge of the sofa before he got up. “I think that’s how you ended with me as a roommate, isn’t it?”
Tou-fucking-ché.
***
“I am not happy about this.”
“We know,” Holley sang. “Your eyeliner is smudged.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “My eyeliner is never smudged.”
“We know,” Kinsley muttered, shooting me a dark look. “It’s unfair.”
“It’s not my fault you sneezed that time you were putting eyeliner on,” I reminded her. “You made a cute panda, though.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” she muttered, picking up a stack of books she’d just priced. “You’re a dick.”
“No, you two are the dicks for making me do this.” I swept my hand down my body. “Making me do this stupid blind date thing. I can’t believe I’m dressed and ready to go.”
“Well, you are, and it’s almost time to leave,” Holley said without an inch of remorse in her voice. “Tori will be there, too, and so will Colton. It’s not like you’re alone.”
“Great,” I said dryly. “Can’t wait for that.”
“Come on.” Holley threw my coat at me. “I promise it won’t be bad.”
