“Anyway,” he goes on, like he hasn’t just steamrolled every last ounce of my patience. “I’m not saying our roomie is busted or anything. Just saying if she smiled more and wore, like, less clothing, maybe someone would’ve locked her down by now.”
I stare.
Nugget sidles up, doing his best to set his ball in the palm hanging at my side, it’s wet, drooly texture causing me to wince.
“Pretty sure Poppy doesn’t give a shit about what you think of her.”
Cash lifts his brows. “No need to get all feminist on me, bro. I’m just saying—she could clean up if she wanted. There’s potential under there.”
Under there.
Like she’s some project to be excavated.
Like she needsfixing. “Pretty sure she’s exactly who she wants to be.”
“Dude—why do you care? Jeez, she’s just a roommate, it’s not like she’s your girlfriend. Chill, man. All I’m saying is—I don’t get the hype.”
Hype?
What hype?
No one asked him to give him unfiltered opinion of her.
If she walked in on this conversation I would be so fucking horrified. Heard him picking her apart like she’s a clearance rack item he doesn’t want but still feels entitled to critique?
My roommate kicks at a rock with his toe, totally oblivious, watching as it bounces off the deck and into the well-manicured lawn. “Seriously, bro. You’ve got to admit—if she just put in alittleeffort…”
“Oh my god, dude—shut the fuck up!”
I glance over in time to see his brows shoot up. “Whoa.”
I scrub a hand down my face and look away. Nugget barrels past my legs, so close his dark fur brushes against my legs.
“Wait.” Cash laughs awkwardly, but something in his expression shifts. “Are you into her?”
Silence.
“Shit,” he breathes, realization dawning. “Youare.”
I don’t answer. Just stoop to pick up the ball, throwing it again—harder this time. Hard enough my shoulder twinges.
Because yeah.
I might be.
And he’s the last fucking person I want knowing it.
Cash whistles low. “Okay. Damn. Didn’t realize you had it bad.”
“I do not have it bad. Stop,” I say flatly. “She’s just?—”
Mine.
Off-limits.
Not yours to dissect.
“Okay, okay.” He holds his hands up, backpedaling so fast he might trip over his own inflated ego. “I was just messing around. You know I run my mouth,” he fumbles. “She’s… she’s cute.”
