The Roommate Agreement(38)

I shivered, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Still, neither of us talked. Not as I put the pasta into boiling water or as I created the sauce or as I cooked the beef, onion, and mushrooms.

Jay just stood there, against the island, watching me.

It was unnerving. I didn’t know what was going through his head, and I wanted to. Dear God, I wanted to know. I wanted to turn around and demand he say something, but every time I went to, the words got stuck in my throat.

I stirred the food until everything was done and I was able to drain the pasta and mix everything together. Serving it up, I glanced back at Jay. My eyes met his for the briefest second, and something about his intense gaze made my stomach flip.

Could Brie have been right? Was my crush mutual?

No—Jesus Christ, Shelby. That’s ridiculous.

Don’t even go there. That was a dangerous road to travel down.

I handed Jay his plate, and he uttered a quiet but tight “Thank you,” and took his plate to the small, round dining table. I joined him, sitting on the opposite side.

The silence stretched as we ate. It wasn’t the ‘moving on’ I’d hoped for, but hey, it was better than avoiding each other, right?

No.

It wasn’t.

Silence was the worst.

The literal worst. I couldn’t begin to guess what he was thinking. The tension in the air was crawling across my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand up, making me want to shiver until I shook it off.

This was horrible.

He was my best friend. There had never been anything we couldn’t talk to each other about, and my stupid, tipsy actions had created something.

Ugh.

I glanced up at him, catching his eye for a brief second. He dropped his gaze the second our eyes connected, so I just sighed and got up to put my plate in the sink. I needed to empty the dishwasher, but I just wasn’t in the mood right now.

I set to work clearing the dishes and wiping the sides down, trying to think of anything but what was happening.

Stupid wine. Stupid Shelby. Stupid brain.

Jay brought his plate over to the sink and put it in on top of mine. He paused, hovering behind me for a second. The sound of him sighing filled the air, and just when I expected him to say something, he didn’t.

He turned around and he walked away.

I’d had enough.

I slammed the wet cloth into the sink, splattering water over both me and the backsplash. Storming after him, I straightened my spine. “Jay.”

He gripped his bedroom door handle, keeping his back to me.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“Nothing I have to say will be productive,” he ground out, his shoulders visibly tightening.

Damn his tight t-shirts.

“But clearly you have something you need to get off your chest. If you don’t want to share, then fine, but don’t get on my back when I don’t feel like talking to you, either.” I turned away, heading back for the kitchen.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fine.”

I stopped and looked over my shoulder, raising my eyebrows in question.

He let go of the handle, slowly turning his body so that he could meet my eyes. “The only reason I stepped away from you last night is because you’d been drinking.”

I drew in a short, sharp breath that quickly shuddered out of me. “What?”

“You’d been drinking,” he said simply. “I…didn’t want to be responsible for something you’d regret this morning, so I stepped away and left.”

The lump in my throat was big. Suffocating, almost.

What was he saying?

“Are you saying you don’t care that I kissed you?”

“I don’t care that you kissed me.” His eyes never wavered from mine. “But you do care, so it’s a moot point.”

“Right.” I swallowed and wrapped my arms around my waist. “A moot point.”

Except it wasn’t. Nothing about any of this was moot. It was all very, very valid.

“Like you said, we can forget it ever happened and move on.” Jay threw his arm out like he didn’t care, but I could see otherwise.

The muscle in his jaw ticked. His biceps were taut, and there was a glint in his eye that told me he was lying.

More to the point, I knew he was.

I knew him. Better than I knew anyone. Better than I knew myself.

And I knew he was lying.

“You’re lying,” I said softly.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” I challenged, an edge to my voice. “Why are you lying to me?”

“Because you don’t want to know the truth, Shelby. Trust me on that.”

“If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t be standing here.” I lifted my chin a little, defiance flaring inside me. “I’m your best friend, Jay. You can tell me anything.”

“Not this.”

“Yes, this.”

He dipped his head, running his hand through his hair. “Fine. Fucking fine.” He jerked his head back up and took a step toward me, fire flashing in his eyes. “I don’t want to forget that you kissed me last night. I don’t want to pretend like it never happened, because if you’d been stone-cold sober, I wouldn’t have stopped you. I would have taken it a hell of a lot further and done something we’d both be regretting right now.”