To my beta readers; Kerri, Emma, Nedra and Liz for all your helpful feedback and for loving this story even when it was a mess.

To everyone on my Street Team, thank you for all your endless support and encouragement and for "pimping" my books out on a regular basis! You ladies are incredible and I’m grateful for you.

About Author

Roxanne grew up in New York City, where she studied theatre, stage management and screen writing. From an early age, she loved storytelling and knew she wanted to be a writer. While her genre was never limited, she now enjoys writing billionaire and sports romance, creating strong realistic heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She now lives in Florida with her real-life male hero.

Excerpt - The Roommate Deal

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Paige

People were staring.

Was it me or had this train grown incredibly crowded in the past few stops?

They’re not staring Paige.

And if they were, who could blame them? You could hold a lemonade stand with the number of sour pouts you’re pouring out.

I clutched my suitcase and pushed myself further into the window as an elderly woman settled next to me.

My chest squeezed tight when she gave me the look.

Don’t engage. “What?” I blurted.

“Oh nothing dear. You just seem… lost.”

“I’m on a train to Boston. I get off at Kingston and Third. I know exactly where I’m going, thank you.”

Lie.

Theoretically, I knew where I was going today; to Bella’s apartment in downtown Boston. But tomorrow… and next week…who knew?

I knew one thing though, I wasn’t going back to New York for quite some time.

In fact, everything Evan Gallaway made me nauseous right now and there was no end in sight for this feeling of betrayal, loneliness…and shame—all because I had asked a stupid question.

I counted to ten slowly. No. It wasn’t stupid, and it was better that I found out now than if I had wasted another year waiting for him to make promises of forever.

Even though it should have been clear to me from the start That Evan Gallaway does not do forever.

It wasn’t like I was expecting to be on my honeymoon at this point. I was only twenty-two. Although, the looks I was getting from strangers the past two hours did make me feel like I was just dumped on my wedding day.

But no, there was no wedding. Heck there was never even a ring, or a commitment of any kind. Was it so wrong of me to ask if he saw one coming?

I slumped further down my seat, closing my eyes, fighting tears as I—against my better judgment—relived the conversation from nearly forty-eight hours ago.

“What’s for dinner?” Evan had asked when he came into the kitchen Friday evening.

“Steak salad.”

“Sounds healthy,” he commented with blatant disappointment.