Rooming With My Ex-Mate's Hockey Star Brother

TREY

”I know this is probably the wrong time to bring this up, but...” Sadie drops her suitcase onto the bed and turns to me. ”I’m guessing you know Ezra and I were together.”

Not even five fucking minutes in my apartment and she’s already talking about him. Could’ve at least unpacked a box first.

I lean against the wall, trying to figure out what exactly she expects me to do with that information when she’s looking at me like some kind of response is required.

Sorry my brother dumped you? He’s an asshole? Congratulations on finally noticing?

[Women require sympathy.] Trex supplies in my head. [You know a thing or two about that, don’t you?]

”I don’t care about your relationship,” I tell her. That’s about as much sympathy as I can offer.

”Oh.” Some of the tension leaves her shoulders as she rubs a hand over her arm.

She really doesn’t hide anything well.

Yesterday, I blamed it on nerves, but I’m starting to realize this is just how she operates. Whatever she’s thinking gets to her face first, and right now relief lasts about three seconds before the embarrassment takes over again. She looks like she’d pay good money to restart this conversation. Tough luck for both of us.

”We’re not together anymore, though,” she adds quickly.

I hold back a sigh. She’s really committed to making the first five minutes of living together as awkward as possible.

My attention drifts to the mess she’s made of her hair. She showed up at my car looking like she’d gotten into a fight with a cat, and judging by the half-dead bun and curls sticking out everywhere, I’m giving the cat the win.

It definitely didn’t look like that when I carried her boxes downstairs, which leaves about thirty minutes for whatever the hell happened. I’m still tempted to ask but my curiosity loses to self preservation. One uncomfortable conversation at a time.

Pushing her box aside with my foot, I gesture around the room. ”Everything you need should be here already. Towels are in the bathroom, extra sheets are in the closet. If you need anything else, let me know.”

She glances around. ”This is more than enough. I’m kind of a minimalist anyway.”

Minimalist? With a suitcase, two boxes and a duffel? What does she bring when she’s not being one? A moving truck? Furniture? A satellite dish?

”Sure.” I hold out my hand. ”Phone.”

Her attention drops to my palm. ”Why?”

”I need your number.”

She digs through her bag, pulls out her phone and unlocks it before handing it over.

I look down at it, then back at her.

The thing looks older than the apartment and twice as abused. It’s cracked in three different directions, and I’m pretty sure they stopped making this model sometime during my childhood.

I hold it up. ”This thing still works?”

She sighs. ”It works perfectly fine.”

”How?”

She gives me a look that kills any follow-up questions I might’ve had about how this thing is still alive.

Fine by me. I only need it to survive long enough to save my number.

I put it in and call myself, my phone buzzing against my leg a second later.

”Save my number.”

”Sure.”

She takes the phone back while I save hers, and with that handled, I move on to the stuff we probably should’ve discussed before agreeing to live together.

”There are a few house rules.”

Her duffel is halfway open when she stops. ”Rules? Like what?”

”If you’re staying out past ten pm, text me.”

She looks up. ”Past ten?”

”Yeah. Tell me where you are, who you’re with and whether you’re coming back.”

She doesn’t like it. That much is written all over her face, but after finding her alone in those woods, I’m not particularly interested in negotiating this one.

”I don’t want to wake up, realize you’re not here and have to start wondering if something happened to you,” I explain. ”Especially after the shit in the woods.”

She softens a little at that, although not enough to surrender the argument. I can see her thinking her way around it.

”Okay,” she says eventually. ”But you have to text me too if you’re staying out late. As your employee, I should plan ahead and know your schedule for better convenience.”

That’s a lot of words for, if I have to tell you, you have to tell me too.

”Fine.”

She nods and goes back to unpacking, pulling a stack of folded clothes from her bag while I run through anything else.

”Tell me before you bring people over.”

”Okay.”

”And no guys sleeping over.”

”I don’t have guys sleeping over.”

That came out fast. And offended. Mostly offended.

”Good. Then that should be easy.”

”I barely have anyone coming over at all.” She goes back to her bag. ”Mostly Lola. And I should probably warn you now that she might be here a lot.”

I remember Lola. Forgetting someone who stared at me that hard would take effort.

”She’s fine. Just tell me if anyone else is coming over.” I glance toward the door. ”And before you start expecting the same from me, half my team thinks they live here.” I push away from the dresser. ”Walker and Nash are downstairs, so they’re in and out of here all the time. I’m not texting you every time one of them comes up.”

She takes that in while putting another shirt away. ”So I should just expect random hockey players wandering into the apartment?”

”Pretty much.”

”Great.”

I can’t tell if she means that or not. Probably not.

”You’ll get used to them.”

She makes a small sound under her breath and keeps unpacking.

”Anything in the kitchen is yours too,” I add. ”Food, drinks, whatever. If you find something around the apartment you need, use it. You don’t have to ask. Just stay out of my room.”

She shakes her head. ”I know how to respect boundaries.”

”Good.”

”And thank you.” Her hand makes a small sweep around the room. ”For all of this. And the food and everything.”

There’s that carefulness again, as if she’s already worried about taking up more space than I agreed to give her.

”You live here now,” I remind her.

That makes her strangely quiet.

”Anyway.” I start toward the door. ”If you can follow all that, I’m looking forward to you not being a nuisance.”

A sigh follows me before I make it halfway out of the room.

I glance back.

”When you say it like that, you’re going to jinx the whole vibe before I’ve even finished unpacking.” She gestures between us. ”Why can’t you just say you’re looking forward to a good partnership? That sounds better than hoping I’m not a nuisance.”

A good partnership?

”And I know you’re busy,” she continues. ”You have hockey, the Trials, school and probably a million other things I don’t know about. I also know we’re not exactly...” She trails off, and for once her face isn’t helping me figure out where she’s going with this. ”On the same level, socially. You’re the future Alpha and I’m an omega you hired yesterday. You don’t have to remind me of that.”

I cross my arms.

”But if we’re going to live together, I’d like us to respect each other.” She squares her shoulders. ” I know you’re busy, so I’m not going to be following you around or bothering you all day. And whatever problems I have, I can handle them. You don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of hockey or the Trials or anything.” She hesitates. ”And I’ll do my best with the job. Obviously.”

The confidence she started with doesn’t quite make it to the end. She’s asking to be treated like an equal while promising in the same breath to make herself as convenient for me as possible. I’m not sure she hears the contradiction.

”Sure,” I say. ”I look forward to our... good partnership.”

A smile spreads across her face.

”Alright.” I nod toward the rest of her stuff. ”Finish unpacking.”

She gets back to it, and I leave, making it halfway down the hall before I slow.

Her door is still open behind me, and from here I can hear her moving around inside, already settling into a room that was empty this morning.

[She’s better than I remember.] Trex rumbles happily. [A lot better. I like her. Let’s keep her. Lock the doors so she can’t leave.]

What the fuck?

”She’s not a pet.”

[We’ll feed her.]

”That wasn’t my concern.”

[Buy her a better phone too.]

I rub a hand over my face and head for the living room, leaving Trex to plan the rest of Sadie’s adoption by himself.

I’ve barely made it to the couch when my phone buzzes against my leg. Pulling it out, I find a message from Walker.

Walker:Ad’s gone from the fan page. Still can’t believe your dumbass plan actually worked 😭Sadie there already?

Walker: does she remember you yet?

I read that one twice before typing back.

Me: Yeah. She moved in.

Me: No, she doesn’t remember.