Rooter (Double H Romance) Read Free Page B

forth between the two of us.
    “I wasn’t flirting with him.” I put my hands on my hips. “He wanted to make sure I was okay after you screamed at me.”
    “Why would he care if he doesn’t know you?” He asks through gritted teeth.
    I sigh, tired of this conversation. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because he’s a decent person who doesn’t like to see girls being bullied by guys.”
    Mike throws his head back and lets out a boisterous laugh. “He  is  a bully! He’s Double H!”
    He’s a master at deflecting. It’s just like him to take the fact I’ve just called him a bully and put it on someone else instead.
    “That doesn’t make him a bully,” I counter.
    “Right,” he snorts. “You’re obsessed with him so you choose to ignore all the stories about them.”
    “That’s just it!” I yell and throw my hands in the air. “They’re stories. Rumors. We don’t know if they’re true.” I point at his face. “You on the other hand,  are  a bully. You’re mean to me and Miranda all the time.  That  is a fact!”
    “Stop it!” Miranda wails. She puts her hands up in protest and steps in between us. “Enough! This isn’t helping anything.”
    Mike points back at me. “I don’t want her here if she’s seeing that guy,” he commands. “He’s dangerous.”
    “I think you’re dangerous,” I counter.
    “I said stop it!” Miranda screams at the top of her lungs. She turns to me, takes a deep breath, and speaks calmly. “Please let me talk with Mike alone. Will you wait in your room for me?”
    Fine with me. I’m finished with this conversation. I stalk up the stairs to my room and slam the door behind me.
    My adrenaline surges. It’s impossible to sit still so I pace back and forth. How do I always end up in situations defending myself against things I have nothing to do with? I raise my shaking palms to my temples, fingers splayed.
    The sound of Mike’s voice as he hollers grates on my nerves. After everything he’s put me through this year I’ve come to truly despise him.
    Living here isn’t working out. It hasn’t been working out for a while. If Miranda wants to baby Mike and put up with his crap for the rest of her life that’s her problem. I don’t want it to be mine any longer.
    I’d give anything to have enough money to stand on my own two feet. Maybe I can fit in another job. I wouldn’t have any life, but if I could afford my own place, it might be worth it. Miranda will be able to find another roommate. She has tons of friends and acquaintances.
    I come to a halt and shake my head. Who am I kidding? At my current rate of pay, I’d need to work sixty hours a week to afford my own place. If I worked sixty hours a week and attended college full-time, I wouldn’t have any time to study. I’d be stressed all the time. I resume pacing and try to listen to what they’re saying downstairs.
    Fifteen minutes later there’s a knock on my door. I know it’s Miranda because I heard Mike peel away in his Camaro a moment ago.
    “May I come in,” she asks in a gentle voice.
    I open the door and gesture for her to enter. She looks nervous as I close the door. She takes a seat on the bed and fiddles with her fingers. I recommence my pacing. God, I hate it when she acts timid.
    “How can you believe I’d send someone here to attack Mike?” I beseech.
    “I don’t necessarily believe it,” she explains, looking at her hands as she continues to fidget. “It was just a question.”
    “I didn’t send him here,” I snap.
    “Are you seeing him?”
    I gape at her. “No. I’ve talked to him once. The day Mike yelled at me outside, Rooter saw it and asked if I was okay. That’s it.”
    “Okay.” She looks up at me with pleading eyes. “I believe you.”
    I come to a screeching halt. “Okay?” I turn to her. “No. None of this is okay! It’s not okay that I have to answer such questions. That I, yet again, am defending myself against something I didn’t do!”