Page 15 of Lodged

Ruin: That’s the thing. I don’t know.

Rain: Color me confused.

Ruin: Well, I’m not sure if he’s just being nice or if he likes me back.

Rain: Oh, that’s easy to figure out. Ask him out.

Ruin: Are you crazy? I’m pretty sure there’s a rule against fraternization between teachers and students.

I see the dots on the screen, telling me Rain is typing. But it’s taking her a while. This should be good.

Rain: Hmmm. Desperate moments call for desperate measures. I know you, Ru. You won’t relax until you know if there’s something between the two of you. Isay you ask him out— if he says no, then you have your answer.

It sounds so easy, but if he says no, I’d not only be mortified by the rejection, I’d also have to see him at least once a week until the semester ends, and it’d be awkward as hell. No thanks, I don’t think I can do this.

Rain: What happened? Are you going to chicken out? You’re a MacAllister, for Christ’s sake. We don’t back down from a challenge.

I smile at the screen. Daddy used to tell us that all the time. “We are MacAllisters, our ancestors didn’t leave their land to come in search of a better life for us to be cowards.”

Ruin: You’re right. I need to know, one way or another.

Rain: Attagirl. *fire emoji*

Ruin: I love you, Raindrop. I’ll catch you later.

Rain: Back at ya, little sis.

Chapter 9

Gio Bianchi

I’ve turned in my dissertation to my adviser, and as soon as I leave his office, a sense of relief washes over me. I’ve been sleeping only a couple of hours a day to meet my deadline. It’s amazing how productive I can be when I’m under stress. Like clockwork, when I make it to Main Street, my phone pings with a text.

Vicente: You alive?

Vicente is one of my brother-in-laws, technically Luca’s, but close enough. He lives in London, and from time to time we check up on each other. Being the oldest siblings, I think we share a bond none of us share with our siblings.

Gio: Hi. Yes! Dissertation submitted. I can finally breathe.

Vicente: Excellent! Let’s celebrate.

I chuckle at his text—he’s the epitome of the uber rich bachelor. Fierce in the boardroom and a playboy in his personal life.

Gio: What do you have in mind? My time is limited.

Vicente: Of course it is. Come to London for the weekend—it’ll be fun.

“Who are you texting?” a voice says next to me, and I jump.

“Fuck, Penny. You scared the living daylights out of me.” My hand goes to my chest as I try to calm my racing heart.

“I’m sorry. How did it go?” she asks as we start walking down the street, looking for a place to grab lunch.

“Good. Now I wait to see if Dr. Smith approves it, then I can move forward with my dissertation defense.”

“Congrats! So who were you texting?” she asks, trying to look at my phone, but the screen has gone black.

“Nosy much?” I ask, a smirk on my face.

---