The Do-Over (The Rooftop Crew #5) - Piper Rayne Page 0,15

my head. “I’m looking for something that doesn’t complicate the situation further.”

Patrice nods and buries her head in her phone again.

As we’re walking out of the station later, Patrice says, “Sorry, I guess I thought I had more single friends. Turns out I don’t.” She shrugs.

“Thanks anyway.” I’m not convinced she actually tried.

Nate honks his horn, interrupting us.

Patrice lingers by me instead of rushing over to her husband. “We’re going to get some test results from our fertility doctor.” She glances back at the station. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t.”

She beams and practically skips like a schoolgirl over to Nate. He raises his hand in a hello, and I do the same.

I can’t help but feel as though everyone’s life is moving forward and mine is stalled in neutral.

Fifteen minutes later, I insert the key into my apartment door, not sure what I’m about to find on the other side—but I can tell you, it isn’t Kamea asleep with a shirtless Jax on the couch. That definitely wasn’t on my radar.

Chapter Seven

Kamea

A loud sound startles me awake and I jolt, my head hitting Jax’s jaw.

“Motherfucker!” He quickly stands and grabs his chin. “Is your head made of steel?”

I rub my head and sit up straighter on the couch, realizing the sound must have been the door slamming. Knox stands just inside the apartment, looking at the two of us as though he’s about to set fire to the place. It reads a lot like jealousy, but I have to be misreading that.

“Sorry, I’m not the one who slammed the door,” I tell Jax.

Jax follows my vision to Knox. “What the fuck, man?”

“It slipped. I didn’t think you two would be up already.”

Jax cracks his neck. I can’t deny he’s attractive. He’s got the bad boy vibe going on, with the tattoos and the cocky attitude that could make the most devoted church lady reveal her kinky side. But the fact that my cheek was apparently on his bare chest doesn’t even excite me. Mostly because it’s his roommate that’s on my mind. But I can admire hot-blooded male perfection even if I don’t want him.

Jax says, “Maybe shoot me a text next time you let a stranger stay in our apartment.”

“I don’t get texts every time you bring a stranger in. You know how many times I’ve been walked in on in the bathroom or shower?” Knox puts his bag on the kitchen chair and grabs orange juice from the fridge.

“Not in weeks.” Jax heads to the bathroom. Again, he doesn’t shut the door.

“Shut the door, dickwad, there’s company,” Knox yells.

“You mean he doesn’t shut it when you’re here either?” I ask, sliding onto a breakfast stool.

Knox grabs another cup and pours me orange juice without even asking me if I wanted some. “All the fucking time. He’s got some weird issue, and since I might know his dick more than my own, I don’t really care.”

I raise my eyebrows.

He chuckles before turning to the fridge and pulling out eggs. “I’ve known the guy forever. You know, locker room and stuff.” He shrugs.

The toilet flushes and the water runs, signaling Jax is at least washing his hands again.

Knox washes his own hands then cracks some eggs into a bowl. “Do you like omelets?”

Jax walks by Knox, pulls coffee out of the freezer, and puts it in the coffeemaker. I watch in awe as they maneuver around like an actual couple, weaving and pausing around one another. Knox fills the pot of water and hands it back to Jax, who then takes the egg carton and puts it back in the fridge while grabbing cut-up veggies for Knox.

“Are you sure you two aren’t a couple?”

They stop what they’re doing and look at me, then their visions shift to one another. They both crack up laughing.

“I wish,” Jax says.

“Life would be a helluva lot easier,” Knox says, and I admire his forearm flexing as he beats the eggs into a scramble. He lifts the bowl toward me. “So do you?”

“Do I what?” I ask.

“Like omelets,” Jax fills in and sits next to me.

“Yeah, but I was just going to head out.” I shift my weight to slide off the stool.

Jax puts his hand on my shoulder lightly, pushing me back down.

“Stay for breakfast at least,” Knox says. His eyes are genuine and honest, and it would be hard to ever deny that look.

“Okay, but then I have to go.”

“Where to?” Jax asks, resting his head in his palm. “I thought you were