Roommate Wars: A Billionaire with Benefits Romantic Comedy (All’s Fair)

“One month, no rent,” he said, his mouth twisting slightly as though he knew he’d snagged me with that last bit.

Money was the one thing I didn’t joke about. “Are you pitying me? Offering me a room because my apartment sucks?”

His life depended on the answer, because pity was the one thing I couldn’t handle. Not from anyone. I was competent, dammit.

A mixture of fear and disbelief crossed his face. “Have you met your sister? If she finds out I walked away and left you here, she will kill me. Then Max will stomp on me with his Ferragamo oxfords for upsetting his girlfriend. This is sheer survival on my part. Besides, it’s only temporary.” He looked around with a snarl. “If you lasted a week here, surely you can survive a month with me.”

How had he known I’d been here a week? Was he stalking me?

And I wasn’t so sure I could survive a month with him. That was a very long time when lingering attraction was involved.

“I won’t be around much,” he continued. “I hired a new CEO to free up time for other projects. I’ll be working long hours, getting her up to speed. You’ll practically have the place to yourself.”

Free up his time? Last I saw, the man practically lived at home, roaming around in sweatpants. And why was I actually considering this? “Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t like owing people.”

His gaze narrowed as though he were calculating. “Not even if the free rent was in exchange for taking care of a few things around the house? I don’t want to hire someone I don’t trust.”

“And you trust me?” My voice cracked on that last part.

He blinked as though I’d caught him in a lie. “I trust you with the place,” he finally said.

Which was as good as admitting he didn’t trust me in other ways.

I deserved that. This man had rocked me off-balance, and I’d run after our night together. Not exactly a winning response. But if the sex had been so forgettable for him, then my lingering feelings were a moot point. It still stung to hear he didn’t care.

This was a truly terrible idea, but I couldn’t ignore the financial benefit. If Jack was gone most of the time, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

He shifted his feet as though growing impatient. “In addition to helping me out, you’ll be giving your sister peace of mind. I won’t tell her where I found you.”

Okay, now he was bringing out the big guns. Not telling my sister about this place was a massive concession because it rivaled our mother’s hoarder house before we’d fixed it up. “One month?”

“In exchange for help around the house.”

Oh, I didn’t like the sound of that. It was too vague. There was definitely a catch.

We slept together the one night I’d sleepwalked into his bedroom, and it had been a low point for me. Not because of the sex, but because I’d practically thrown myself at him after crushing on the man for weeks when visiting my sister. A small part of me worried he’d complied that night to be nice. Or because, you know, easy booty call. He sure as hell had never acted as though he liked me before then.

Though he’d surrendered enthusiastically to my advances, so at least there was that.

In any case, given our history, “help around the house” could mean more than taking out the trash. “What exactly are you expecting? I’m not going to warm your bed, Jack.” He’d called the sex forgettable, but men made funny decisions when easy access was involved.

He drew back, offended. “What sort of man do you take me for?”

“A red-blooded one.”

The corners of his mouth pulled back, and he glanced down. “Fair. But no, that’s not what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of you taking care of the laundry and dishes. Maybe cooking dinner five nights a week.” He glanced around nervously. “Can we negotiate in the hallway? I feel mold spores making a bed in my lungs.”

I crossed my arms. “No.”

His sigh came out on a low growl. “I have a cleaning person who comes twice a month,” he said. “They give the place a deep clean, including your bedroom and bathroom.”

Free rent for a month, no black mold, plus someone to clean my bathroom? I wasn’t sure I trusted Jack, but he was speaking my language. “What else do you want from me?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Your sister would want me to help if I could. She already said you refused to move in with her.”

And living with Jack would be downstairs from her, where she could burrow all up in my business. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Do you have a better one?” His look was pure challenge.

I didn’t, and he knew it.

“It’s only a month,” he said again. “It’ll fly by before you know it.” Something must have caught his eye because he flinched.

I glanced at where he was looking. “Oh, that’s just Jack, my roach.”

His jaw shifted. “You named a cockroach after me?”

“You have a problem with that?”

Two more roaches scurried across the permanently sticky hardwood. “Fuck!” he said, moving farther away. “Maybe the rest of the people in this building should move out too.”

I glanced at my nails, unbothered. “I checked. My apartment is the worst. The others don’t have—” I waved in the direction of the black-mold wall. “There’s a leak somewhere in this unit, so it’s just special.”

He ran stiff fingers through his hair. “Are you coming or not?”

It was clearly making him nervous standing in my apartment. I must have a high tolerance for filth and critters after living with Mom for so long. Still, I hesitated. This wouldn’t be living with my sister or mom, but I’d still be mooching off another human being.

He sighed. “If this is about that night, can’t you just forget about it?”

My eyes widened. “Can you?”

He looked off, not meeting my gaze. “Course I can. I’m a man.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him, but if that were true, it bothered me. Even if forgetting was what I wanted, that night was burned into my brain, and I didn’t like that he could so casually forget.

“It’s already forgotten,” I said, and prayed the lie didn’t show on my face.

“Good.” He looked down my body. “Because you’re not my type. Don’t worry about anything happening.”

Again, ouch. Yet, somehow, his words reassured me. He didn’t want to go there, and I didn’t either. I wasn’t in the right mindset for a relationship, and something told me being in one with Jack would be a maelstrom. This was a business transaction, nothing more.

No matter what I’d told myself over the last week to stay put and not go running back to Mom’s, I was desperate to find something safer. If Jack’s place was a temporary stopover, would that be so bad?

He looked around. “Leave your stuff. It’s probably got mold spores. We’ll figure out what to do with it later. For now, we’ll get you new clothes, or you can borrow from your sister.”

“I’m not taking a single thing from my sister.” Sophia had worked her ass off, and this year was her time to focus on herself.

His mouth flattened. “Then you can wear one of my T-shirts. Happy?”

Not at all. His shirts smelled like him, and if memory served, he smelled amazing.

Everything about Jack was what had me scurrying down the fire escape the morning after we’d slept together. I’d felt protected and cherished in his arms—something I’d never experienced before. And that had been terrifying.

Jack scratched the back of his neck like he had the creepy-crawlies. “So what’s it going to be? Are you coming?”

“I don’t cook. You’ll have to deal with whatever I make. And it’s three nights a week, not five.” I hated cooking.

He nodded. “That works.”

This was a stupid idea I’d probably regret. “Fine. I’m coming.”