The Room Mate (Roommates #1)(45)

“You’re hung up on Paige. I can see it.”

I raised my brows. This was not the conversation I expected to be having. “Not even close.”

“You’re falling for her. You speak fondly of her often, and you’re spacey when you’re here. It’s happening. The great Cannon Roth has fallen.”

Such bullshit . . .

Women threw themselves at me daily. Love was never even on my radar, and I had no plans to change that. My heart was like a steel trap, strong and certain. Sure, they could bounce on my cock for an hour, but saying good-bye was easy because my heart was never even on the table. My goals were singular, and I never pictured a woman by my side while I pursued them.

Period. End of story.

Until Paige . . .

I might have told her I was cursed when it came to sex, that women fell in love with me and then pursued me relentlessly after, but she’d proven me wrong. Paige wasn’t in love, wasn’t pursuing me. Shit, she hadn’t even said anything when I admitted I loved her. Not even a thank-you.

It was a hard truth to face that Peter was right. I was the one who had fallen for her.

Finishing up in silence, Peter and I grabbed our trays from the table, stowing our dishes in the proper bins and throwing our trash away.

“Doesn’t matter.” I heaved out a sigh. “I’ve submitted my application for a residency.”

“That’s huge news.” Peter grinned at me. “About damn time.”

When Dr. Ramirez offered to refer me to a hospital in Denver with a world-renowned cardiology program, I couldn’t say no to that opportunity. Having his guidance and knowing he believed in me was everything. And with things the way they were with Paige and my sister, leaving town sounded pretty fucking awesome.

As we headed from the hospital cafeteria, a heaviness settled over my chest. Having selected my path, I should have felt lighter and at ease after all these long months of uncertainty.

Instead, the reality of my situation was hitting hard. I had fallen for someone I couldn’t have, and now I was doing the only thing I could—flee.





Chapter Twenty-Six


Paige




A knock at the door surprised me. For a split second, I held out hope that maybe it was Cannon. Then I remembered he never knocked, aside from his first time. He had a key, not that he had used it in over a week.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to find a meek college-aged girl with soft blond curls and sad honey-colored eyes. She was petite, dressed in leggings and an oversized University of Michigan sweatshirt that hung from her frame and made her look even smaller.

She met my stare, seemingly just as curious about who I was. Then her gaze darted behind me and into the living room.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Is C-Cannon here?” she stuttered.

“Not right now.”

“But he does live here?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling uneasy, not to mention I was totally unsure about how to answer her question. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her expression changed, and she offered a shy smile. “Sorry. I’m Michelle. Cannon’s girlfriend.”

My eyes about fell out of my head. “His what?”

Her smile fell. “I mean, I was. Now, I don’t know what I am. I haven’t talked to him.”

Several things clicked into place at once. She was the reason he suddenly needed a place to stay. He broke up with his girlfriend and needed a hideout. I’d been an easy escape from his reality. My throat tightened, and I gripped the doorway for support.

“He didn’t mention you,” I said.

Her smile fell away. “I’m not surprised. That’s Cannon for you. Our history is . . . complicated.”

He’d told me some of his complicated past with women, but now I wondered if he’d told me everything. Apparently not, because I had no idea who this woman standing on my porch was. He’d never mentioned the name Michelle.

“And you’re his . . .” Michelle paused, clearly fishing for information.

“I’m his older sister’s friend.” God, that sounded so lame.

“Ah. That makes sense. I mean, I didn’t think . . . never mind.” She grinned at me, an almost giddy smile that revealed her age.

“The next time I see him, I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

She nodded. “Please do. And ask him to call me.”

“I will.”

Michelle retreated to the curb where her little red sedan was parked, and I watched as she climbed inside, took one last wistful look toward me, and then drove away.

Still rattled from Michelle’s visit, I headed into my small kitchen to a depressing dinner for one.





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Cannon




I’d been staying with my mom for the past week and a half. Though Paige didn’t say it, I no longer felt welcome at her place. I felt even worse, because it was basically my fault that Allie found us that morning. I’d left my mom’s in the middle of the night without saying good-bye to anyone, shown up drunk at Paige’s, and apparently forgotten to lock the door when I got home. And I was hung over, so I didn’t hear Allie come in until she was practically in the doorway, watching us with judgmental eyes.