Page 181 of How to Win the Girl

“Ring it again.”

Shannon presses the doorbell again.

“I swear I saw someone come home before. There’s a light on upstairs,”the new girl says.

“Dallas Colter’s girlfriend lives here. I told you that already,” Shannon snaps at her, testily.

“Jeez, I was just saying.”The roommate tosses her long black hair.“Do you think he’s sleeping with her?”

Shannon turns to look at her friend.“Don’t be an asshole. Of course he’s not sleeping with her. He’s sleeping with me.”

“Well, now maybe he’s sleeping with that girl you saw him on a date with. What did you say her name was?”

Once more, Shannon turns to her friend—and it’s hard to make out her expression on the small screen from the video footage, but the body language is telling me it’s not a friendly look.

“Don’t be a bitch,”Shannon finally says.“It’s not serious. He went out with her as a joke.”

I haven’t said shit about Daisy to Shannon, and I certainly would never tell her I went out with Daisy as a joke—not only because Daisy would have my nuts in a vise but because it’s not fucking true.

“Why isn’t he home? They should be done working out by now,”Shannon can be heard grumbling. “Check that window.”

How would she know whether or not I should be done at the gym? Does she stalk me?

Jesus.

I told her not to catch feelings the first time we fucked; seems like she’s not such a great listener and did not follow my directions.

Drew watches over my shoulder as Shannon and the black-haired girl peer into the first-floor windows, accessible by the porch, their hands shielding the light so they can stare into the living room windows. Then the dining room situated to the right of the front door.

Seriously.

What the fuck.

“Did they not notice the camera?” I squint at the tiny screen. “Why would they be doin’ and sayin’ that shit if they knew they were gonna be recorded?”

“Beats the hell out of me. I was thinkin’ the same thing.”

“Shannon, they’re not here. Can we go now?”the friend asks. “No one is home.”

“Fine. I’ll just come back later.”

I watch as they leave, retreating down the front porch steps the same way they came—but in a huff—the video camera footage eventually going black, having finished recording the motion on the porch.

“Well.” Drew sighs. “This certainly seems to be an issue. What are you gonna do?”

Do? “I’m going over there. This is bullshit.”

* * *

“Oh my god, Drake!”Shannon’s loud, over-the-top greeting grates on my last nerve. Too sweet, too excited.

Fake.

“You should totally come in,” she tells me, reaching for my hand as I linger in the open doorway, her nails scratching my forearm in the most annoying way.

And by the look on her face, she thinks this is a social visit or the kind that will end in one or both of us climaxing on her bed.

Why can’t she just fade away like I want her to?

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