Part 2The Lethal Revenge My Roommate Stole

"Bullshit," Dustin scoffed, stepping away from the window. "There's no way. Sylvia's standards are atmospheric. Why would she look twice at him?"

"Exactly," Brad agreed. "Guys with trust funds line up down the block for her. Rowan? Please."

Todd remained silent, but he had forcibly smoothed his features back into a mask of indifference. He looked me up and down. "You didn't just hire some random girl to impersonate Sylvia to mess with us, did you?"

I looked at his face—a face that truly believed it had outsmarted the world—and a genuine laugh bubbled up in my chest.

"Believe whatever helps you sleep at night, Todd."

I didn’t waste another breath on him. I turned and walked out, letting the door click shut behind me.

Down in the courtyard, Sylvia was leaning casually against a cherry-red Lamborghini. When she saw me, she offered a small, lazy wave.

The afternoon sunlight fractured through the elm trees, washing over her. She looked like a manifestation of old money and untouchable grace. No wonder Todd had obsessed over her for half a year.

And it was exactly for that reason that I had agreed to date her.

"Waiting long?" I asked.

"Just pulled up. Get in."

With practiced elegance, Sylvia opened the passenger door for me. As I slid into the low leather seat, I glanced up. In the third-floor window of my dorm, three faces were pressed against the glass, contorted with a jealousy so raw it was almost tragic.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

Sylvia took me to the indoor courts at an exclusive, members-only country club. The air smelled of expensive cedar and fresh tennis balls.

She stood behind me, her chest pressed lightly against my back, adjusting my grip on the racket.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Todd.

"Are you at the racket club?" his voice came through the line, tight and demanding.

I raised an eyebrow. The guy was like a phantom limb; an annoying, lingering itch. "What exactly do you want, Todd?"

He immediately slipped into his victim voice. "Wow, what's with the attitude? I’m just looking out for you, man. I don't want you getting played."

"Sylvia isn't playing me. Do us both a favor and stop calling."

I dropped the temperature of my voice to freezing and hung up.

Sylvia stepped back, offering me a pristine white towel. She reached out, gently dabbing a bead of sweat from my temple. "Everything okay? Your roommate giving you grief?"

I took the towel. "Yeah. Someone's just losing his mind because my girlfriend is so far out of his league."

She let out a soft, breathy laugh and reached up to ruffle my hair.

A split second later, a tennis ball whipped through the air, slamming hard into the space between Sylvia's shoulder blades.

She winced, her perfectly manicured brows knitting together as she spun around.

Todd came jogging onto the court, his face a picture of exaggerated, frantic apology. "Oh my god, I am so, so sorry! I totally miscalculated the swing. Are you okay?"

He leaned forward as he spoke. He was wearing a shirt unbuttoned halfway down his torso, making sure the slight flex of his chest was front and center.

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. Her gaze swept over his face, lingering for a fraction of a second on his exposed chest, before settling into a look of absolute, glacial boredom.

"I'm fine," she said flatly.

She grabbed my hand, turning to walk away.

Todd lunged, grabbing her forearm. "No, please, I feel terrible. Let me get your number. At least let me buy you a new tennis skirt or dinner to make up for it."

Sylvia glanced down at his hand on her arm. A flicker of genuine disgust rippled through her eyes.

"That won't be necessary. I don't give my number to strangers."

She turned back to me, the ice instantly melting from her features, replaced by a warm, honeyed gaze. "I'm sorry the vibe got ruined, baby. Let's go. I'll make it up to you tonight."

I smiled, casting a deeply satisfied look over my shoulder at Todd.

He was rooted to the spot, his face a sickly shade of gray.

My previous girlfriends would have politely declined him in front of me, sure. But I had always seen the hidden heat in their eyes. The secret thrill. And later, when I wasn't looking, they always accepted his follow requests.

Todd thought women were a monolith. He thought they were all the same.

What a shame for him. This time, he’d run straight into Sylvia Dupont—a woman who couldn't even be bothered to look at him twice.