He Picked My Roommate, I Picked a PhD Instead Chapter 07
I’d barely reached the dorm entrance when I saw Keaton’s car parked at the curb. He didn’t get out. Just
watched from behind the windshield.
I ignored him and walked inside.
On the stairs, my phone buzzed again. Another unknown number texted: [Sloane, I know you’re mad about Sierra. Baby, you know I care about you the most. Don’t be like this. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I’ll take you out.]
I stared at the message for two seconds, deleted it, and put my phone on silent.
Woke up early the next day. Dug up an old tutoring group chat. Contacted a parent for an afternoon trial
lesson.
The kid was sweet, and his mom was happy. We set a schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday afternoons.
Forty dollars an hour.
I was just flipping my second grilled cheese of the evening when someone called out, “One sandwich, extra
sauce.”
I looked up. It was Keaton.
Hands in his pockets, standing in front of my cart. His eyes caught the burns on my hands. He started to
step closer, then turned his head away.
I didn’t say anything. Just cooked the sandwich and handed it over. “Ten dollars.”
He scanned the code. The payment alert chimed loud. Two thousand dollars.
The other food vendors turned to stare. I clicked into the transaction and tried to refund. “That’s too much.
It’s ten.”
“Keep it.”
He set the sandwich on the counter without eating it. “Your cart’s new. I’m helping you out. Bringing
business.”
“I don’t need it.”
The refund went through. I turned to the next customer. “We’re done.”
His smirk flickered. He leaned closer. “Still mad? You used to be over it in two days. I came all the way to
support you. That’s enough.”
I ignored him and kept cooking.
He stayed. After a while he said, “It gets dark. Want me to walk you back to your dorm?”
“No.”
I wiped my hands. “Don’t stand here messing up my business.”
He froze, then reached for my arm. “Sloane, I came to apologize. Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“I said we’re done.”
I stepped back, pulling my arm away.
He stared at me, lips pressed together. Long pause.
“Then I’ll come back tomorrow?”
I didn’t answer. Just kept cleaning up.
The cart next to me asked, “Your boyfriend?”
“No.”
