The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition (It Happened in Nashville #2)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Jessie

TUESDAY

Everything took too long today. So many highlights, so many women wanting to reinvent their look. At five o’clock, I wanted to throw my bowl of lightening cream against the wall and yell, “Yeah, yeah, you look fine! Go home and love yourself as you are!” But I stood there like a good little hairstylist and finished taking a woman’s hair from a level four brunette to an ambitious level seven warm blond until eight o’clock. Because in the hair world, you don’t get to clock out at five. You stay until the job is done.

I floor it all the way home. Home. Drew’s home, I mean. His Jeep is in the driveway, and I feel an eagerness to get inside.

I open the door too exuberantly, and it slams back against the wall. He’s sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and nearly throws it over his head. He’s wearing his trademark at-home look: Hoodie. Sweatpants. Bare feet.

Except, thanks to me, he also has a swollen black eye.

He’s adorable, and I have to admit it to myself, or I’ll burst.

“Is a killer chasing you or something?” he asks, wide eyes looking to where I flung the door open.

Oh, right. He can’t know I rushed in here like a maniac so I could see him. I look over my shoulder. “Yeah. Gosh, you should have seen him. Big. Burly. Scary knife.” I shiver and shut the door, smiling when my back is to him.

“In that case, lock it.” He grins, and my heart flutters.

My legs are crying out for me to go to the couch and sit down beside Drew, but I’m still not sure if I’d be welcome there or not, if I should go there or not. I think it would be a bad idea.

There, woman, you’ve seen him like you wanted, now go to your room and behave.

Drew leans forward and rests his elbow on his knees, bowl of ice cream in hand, and takes a casual, unhurried bite, staring at me the whole time. “Are you going to stay over there all night?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay.” He takes another bite with the spoon upside down in his mouth and slowly pulls it back out. So yeah, I can’t stand here watching him eat ice cream all night like a freak. I can’t, right? No. I can’t.

He licks his lips and sets the bowl down, stands, and then nods toward the couch. “Sit.”

Drew disappears into the kitchen, and I shuffle over with weak legs. I sit down. Cross my legs. That feels weird, so I uncross them. I lean back and then feel like Santa with my jolly round belly, so I sit back up. How did I sit before Drew came along?!

“Here.” He’s in front of me now, holding out a bowl of ice cream. Cookies n’ cream, mmm. I laugh, though, when I see a single floret of broccoli perched on the side of a scoop. His grin is tilted and making my world spin. “Balance, you know?”

“Balance,” I say with a solemn expression.

And that’s that. He sits beside me on the couch, and we eat our ice cream while watching the most boring documentary in the world. It’s so good.