Page 17 of The Temporary Roomie: Extended Edition

Wait. What?No. There will be no seeing Drew’s body.None. Don’t even want to!Bleh.

Thoroughly freaked out by that train of thought, I clear my throat and spin away, storming toward my room. Or the freezer, so I can dunk my head into the ice tray. Drew’s chuckling lingers in the air behind me, and I decide to let him think he’s won. Victory is always sweeter when your opponent underestimates you.

Ten minutes later, I hear the door to Drew’s bedroom shut. Feeling confident that the ogre has retreated into his cave for the night, I walk on tiptoes all the way back down the stairs, yellow laundry basket in tow. I’m a dirty little sneak all the way into the laundry room, and when I open the lid of the washing machine, I smile down into the murky water, then dump all my undies inside to mingle with Drew’s scrubs. I will not go commando tomorrow, and Drew will not win this match tonight.

Unfortunately, though, when I read my text message from my grandfather, I’m informed thathedid win.

GRANDADDY:Four packages of Oreos. I win. Tray needs a pincher.

In the morning, I wait until I see Drew drive off in his car before I walk downstairs. I personally moved the laundry over from the washer to the dryer before bed because I didn’t trust Drew to not let my undies sit and mildew. But when I open the dryer, it’s empty. Drew’s clothes are missing, and so are mine. Misplaced hope pushes into my heart and I think maybe he folded my laundry for me, or at least put them in the living room.

One thorough sweep of the house later, I realize I might never see those panties again. That freak hid my underwear! All ofthem! Is this life’s way of punishing me for wearing every scrap of my clothing before washing them? Wonderful. Looks like I get to go underwear-less today.

Just before I leave the house for work, I get a text.

SEXYDREW:Be careful outside today, Commander. It’s a little breezy.

Apparently, that asshole also stole my phone, unblocked his number, and gave himself a new contact name.

CHAPTER 9

Jessie

I’m a stewing, angry little panty-less troll all morning. My thoughts are nowhere but on all the ways I plan to exact revenge on Drew (in addition to the gem I already have planned for the fundraiser, of course). Over brunch, Lucy finally notices my intensity.

“What is it with you today?” She has a big bite of blueberry muffin in her mouth. “You look like you’re constipated.”

I am. I’m constipated with revenge.Ew.Yeah, that was a little gross. “Sorry.”

“You’re not going to tell me? Is something wrong?”

Other than the fact that these jeans are chafing my butt? No. For some odd reason, I don’t want to tell Lucy what happened with Drew. It’s irrational to want to keep it to myself. It was a rude prank he pulled; I should be overflowing with joy to slander that man further. Instead, it feels like it’s a little secret between me and Drew. I’m holding on to it like a captured lightning bug in a jar. In the dark I’ll watch it flicker, and I’ll smile.

I should tell Lucy . . .

“Just tired. Still not sleeping well.” I avoid looking at her because I’m afraid she’ll see that I’m still holding back half the truth.

The bell over the door chimes at the coffee shop—our favorite place to go for a midmorning coffee break when our schedules magically align, and we both have an hour off at the same time. Lucy looks over my shoulder. A smile lights her face, and in my opinion it doesn’t match the words that come out of her mouth.

“Look, Drew just walked in!”

My heart kicks into overdrive. “What!” Irrationally, I drop my sunglasses from my head to my nose, grab for a dinky paper menu, and hold it up to my face. “Do you have a floppy hat?!”

“You know I don’t.”

“But you’re a mom.”

“You say that like it’s an explanation for why I’d have a floppy hat hidden on my person.”

I peek wide eyes at her over the menu. “Why do you carry around an enormous purse if not to be prepared for everything? Never mind. Has he seen us? Don’t draw attention.”

She waves her hand over her head. An astronaut in space sees her because her movements are so exaggerated and waves back. “Drew! Over here!”

“You’re not getting anything for Christmas this year.”

She sticks her tongue out at me playfully. I make a distorted ugly expression. When I feel a big shadow loom over me, I haul the menu back up to my face and unfold it like a newspaper until my nose practically touches the ink. I feel Drew’s voice rather than hear it.

“Hey, Luce. Who’s your mysterious friend?” He says it with a hint of amusement. He knows it’s me. I should just put down the menu, but I don’t. I want to hide from him, and I’m not entirely sure why.

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