“Hm. Like Kacey’s man?”
Fucking Kacey. This is all her fault; she’s too pretty.
Jessie
You ruined my life.
Kacey
That seems a little dramatic. What did he do?
Jessie
Just the fact that you know it’s him I’m talking about proves my point. He built Gran new window boxes.
Kacey
How dare he! Did you call the cops?
Jessie
You don't get it. She likes him. He's stealing my grandmother!
Kacey
*gasp* the audacity!
Jessie
If he was anyone else I'd sleep with his best friend to get back at him.
Kacey
You're ridiculous.
I slam the front door behind me. I want him to know I’m home. The longer I was at Gran’s, the angrier I got. She kept going on and on about how nice he was and all the things he’s done for her over the last two weeks. She’ll get attached and have her heart broken when he leaves. It’s not a good idea for either of us to get used to having him around.
He will disappear for rodeos for months, and even when he’s back in town, he won’t be living here or hanging out at Gran’s. He’s just hurt and bored. Once he’s healed, he’ll have better places to be and things to do.
I’ve ignored and played down the fact that Trey isverysuccessful at what he does, but he is. He has multiple national finals qualifications, a huge following on social media, and sponsorship deals. Our lives—and tax brackets—are very different. He’s paying me fifteen hundred dollars a month in rent, for fuck’s sake. Not to mention he hasn’t been in town long enough to hear the whispers about my family, but I’m sure once he does, he won’t hesitate to put distance between us.
Trey Bennett and Jessie Hawkins are Penthouse vs. Farmhouse, Gourmet meals vs. Gas station snacks, Day vs. Night. There isn’t a world in which a man like Trey will ever end up with a woman like me.
“What’d that door ever do to you?” he asks, sauntering into the living room.
“Stop stealing my grandmother!” I angrily blurt, sounding like a complete lunatic.
He looks disheveled, like he’s been working, and his face crinkles in confusion, but I keep going. “You can’t keep going over there, fixing things and helping her. She’s going to get attached, then be crushed when you leave.” I’m breathing harder now. Seeing him in his backward baseball cap, blond hair falling over his brow, baby blue eyes assessing me—probably trying to figure out when I went insane—only makes me more upset. My sexual frustration is at an all-time high since he’s moved in. I’ve had more wet dreams in the last two weeks than I have in my entire life. Gran was right, I have the hottest roommate in the history of the world, and he’s fuckingnice.
Why can’t he be a dick?
“Um . . . Sorry?” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Listen, we need to talk about something . . . “ That’s when I notice the sheet pinned up, hanging over the entry to the kitchen. “Okay, don’t freak out . . . Things went a little further than planned, but it’s okay. I’ll fix it.” He takes a step toward me, raising his hands like I’m pointing a gun at him.
“Fix. What.” I grit out between my teeth.
His cheeks are now red, and a hand nervously rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to show you a sample . . . and . . . “ he hesitates.
I push past him to pull back the sheet. “Myfloor,” I cry.
