Page 33 of Idle

“Sorry, guys.” I point to the door. “I’ll let you be.”

Frank rubs the back of his palm against his lips. “No. Don’t. It’s fine.”

“Not like we could’ve gone much further in this place anyway,” Robbie grumbles, then collapses against the top bunk with a loud sigh.

Frank chuckles, which causes a ripple effect throughout the room. Helpless, I say, “This is so fucked up.”

“Or not,” Robbie responds.

Another round of chuckles.

Shaking my head, I toss the sketch pad on the floor, retrieve my pajama bottoms, and walk into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I knock on the bathroom door to announce my return. Don’t need to interrupt another make-out session.

“We’re in ourseparatebunks,” Frank calls.

Whew. Opening the door, I cross the bedroom, turn off the lights, and slip into mine, trying to ignore Bo’s empty bunk. Which, thankfully, is no longer above mine since he moved over to Dan’s.

I’m about to say good night, when Robbie breaches the silence. “So. Bo, huh?”

My gut twists. Needing to play this off like it’s no big deal—because it isn’t—I reply, “Looks that way.”

“Sucks.”

Robbie’s on point, but I don’t want to engage. Paige isn’t with me in any other sense than she’s my teammate for this competition. “We’re not dating or anything. She’s free to go out with whomever she chooses.” There. Sounds reasonable. Because I’m a reasonable sort of guy.

“I don’t know, man,” Frank replies. “If I were straight and was paired up with that knockout, I don’t think I’d be able to let her get away from me so easily.”

“But you’re not.” The bed crinkles as Robbie leans over the bunk.

“No,” Frank replies to his partner. “I’m only saying if I were Jesse, I wouldn’t be so blasé about it, you know?”

“I’m fine, guys. Let’s go to sleep.”

The room plunges into an uneasy quiet. Soon, their breathing indicates they’re falling into slumber. At least no one’s snoring like old jawbones Bo. In my mind’s eye, I picture him with my partner sharing a meal or even drinks. They’ve been out for hours, so they’re way past the dinner stage of the evening. Maybe she took him to a club.Maybe he took her to a hotel.

Paige needs to come into her own. She has a sharp decorating mind but lacks drive. And confidence in herself. For someone who portrays such a tomboy appearance, she’s remarkably insecure. I can’t wait to see her blossom.But not with Bo.

Beneath my hand, the sheets crumple as I make a fist. Theo and Xander warned me off her. For as long as I can remember, Homer railed against love before getting set into a career. No. Paige can do whatever she wants with whomever. It doesn’t affect me. I slam my eyes shut and count sheep.

The next morning, the ViewPad’s abuzz with excitement for the new project. Not to mention, we’re down to the final two rounds, and sans Nancy. At least Paige and Bo didn’t say a word about their date last night, so I can pretend it didn’t happen. Time to focus.

With Paige at my side, I open the door to 1626, and my breath whooshes. The public areas look amazing. The dark floors anchor the space, as Paige promised they would. When we’re inside, I give her props. “Your idea to make these floors dark was a stroke of genius. I went along with them because you were convinced, but you’ve made me a true believer.”

Her cheeks flush, and she glances at the floors. “Thanks. I knew they’d provide the perfect backdrop in here.” Her liquid chocolate gaze meets mine. “Let’s get going on the two bedrooms and bathroom for this week.” She opens her tote bag and starts digging.

I hold up her sketch pad and couple of pencils that I snagged last night. “Looking for these? I borrowed them last night and started drawing an idea I had for a desk.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks inflate. “Great. Let’s see what you drew.”

Her chirpy tone grates on my ears, but I ignore it. Not my business what Bo did to put it there. I show her my sketch, to which she cocks her head from side to side. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she grabs a pencil from me and adds some of her fantastic flourishes to it.

“There. I think this will be awesome. Great job!”

I accept her peppy assessment with a simple “thank you.” We walk down the hallway, stopping outside the first bedroom. “I was thinking of using this as the office. It’s the closest room to the public areas.”

“True.” She taps her bottom lip with the pencil. “But I’d rather have this one as a bedroom, considering no one wants their primary to be close to another sleeping quarters.”

“You have a point. Okay, bedroom it is. We’ll dress the other as the office. And since they both have closets, the next owners would be able to use them however they need.”

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