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“How do you know what I’m doing?” She looked confused.

“I hate-follow you on Instagram from a burner account. I’m the person who always comments, ‘You’re not that pretty,’ and ‘Get over yourself.’”

“Good to know.” Her lips curved into a smile, but she didn’t let it stay. “I would say that it’s nice seeing you after all these years, but—”

“It’s not.”

“Agreed.” She walked toward the door. “Best of luck finding a roommate who doesn’t hate you.”

“Thank you.” I waited for her to step out before shutting the door.

I slumped against the wall and stared straight ahead.

It’d been years since I spoke to someone from my former life, someone who actually knew the ins and outs of skating. And for the first time in forever, my heart didn’t immediately ache mid-sentence when I discussed the fall.

Why does she have to be the best candidate? Should I interview her?

Granted, I still hated her down to her marrow, but I already knew that she would stay out of my way. We’d shared hotel rooms during competitions before—not by choice, but we’d managed to stay alive until checkout time.

Sighing, I opened the door to run after her, but she was still standing there.

“I really need a place to stay, and I can pay for the first ten months in advance.” The words rushed out of her mouth. “And this is like the nicest, most affordable condo I’ve seen online since I moved here. Even if it belongs to someone who is practically Satan, can you at least give me the interview? We don’t have to be friends to be roommates, and we’ve roomed together before, remember?”

“Well, that depends on how honest you are.” I crossed my arms. “How hard did you party when you surpassed me and ranked at number one?”

“Far harder than you did when you used to throw it in my face every month.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you know I was only number one for eight months, until Natalie La Croix got in the way.”

“She was so overrated.”

“Tell me about it.” She nodded. “Her programs were so technically sound that they were boring. I fell asleep forty seconds into her routine at Skate America.”

“That, and she always had a bullshit background story for her costumes,” I said. “She claimed that she wore flecks of brown dirt in her sleeves one time because she wanted the audience to see the beauty of the earth as she skated. She said that shit with a straight face.”

“I’m still convinced that the white angel dust in her Cup of China costume was a different type of dust, if you catch my drift.”

Her eyes met mine, and we both burst into laughter.

“We can do the interview,” I said. “But I can’t make any promises.”

“Okay.” She nodded and stepped inside.

“Tour first?” I motioned for her to follow me. I showed her the second master bedroom that was down the hall from me. Then we returned to the kitchen.

“It’s even prettier in person,” she said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You say that you can pay ten months in advance?”

“I can write the check by morning.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“No.”

“What about any weird habits?”

“I like to watch anime and Sailor Moon marathons every Saturday morning.”

“You still do that?” I crossed my arms, remembering that she used to skate to that show’s theme song during her warmups. “Don’t you know every episode by heart at this point?”

“Yeah, but they recently released a new collection of crystal toy wands, so I’m re-watching to get the movements right.”

I gave her a blank stare. The “I like to stare at dead bodies” woman was still in the running.

“Will it bother you if I have a guy friend over once in a while?” I asked. “We hang out in the living room sometimes, but I go to his place more than he comes here.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I don’t have any friends.”

“Me either. Outside of him, anyway.”

She smiled. “How does it feel to have a famous ex-boyfriend?”

“Huh?”

“Hayden Hunter,” she said. “The guy who came to all your practices and performances. Did you know he’s like a super-rich mogul now?”

“Oh. We’re still friends,” I said. “He’s the guy I was talking about. We were never dating.”

“What?” She looked stunned. “Never?”

“Never.” I shrugged. “There was nothing there.”

“Sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be. We get that question all the time.” I started to tell her that I would give her a decision by nightfall, but my phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket.

Just Hayden: Sarah just ran the mortician girl through a background check. She stabbed her last roommate a year ago and claimed self-defense.

Just Hayden: She also received a citation for keeping raw pigs’ heads at her last apartment.

I set down my phone. “What day do you want to move in?”

Three

Present Day

A few weeks later

Penelope

Eeerkkkkk! Eeeerrrkkk! Eeeeerrk!

The layover plane landed at Charlotte Douglas International with a sickening series of screeches that knocked me out of my nap.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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