Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(11)

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Me: Which one of you dumbasses opened your big mouth to Scarlett about me being a sad puppy?





Bowie: I was planning on it tomorrow. Why?





Gibson: We all would have. No one’s had the chance yet.





Me: She just gave me a roommate.





Jameson: Of the female persuasion?





Me: Shelby Thompson, GT’s little sister.





Devlin: Scarlett works in mysterious ways.





Gibson: You can do better than that, McCallister.





Devlin: Your sister amazes and terrifies me. I fully support whatever scheme she’s concocted.





Bowie: Amen.





Me: I hate you all.





6





Shelby





I’d been Scarlett Bodined.

And I hadn’t seen it coming. I’d heard rumors of such things. I’d been warned. And I’d still been steamrolled by a tiny Southern belle whose master manipulations deserved to be immortalized in the annals of psych journals.

I was tempted to throw out my fifty-percent done paper and start all over with Scarlett as the star.

Then Jonah walked back into the house.

Our house.

This was not the ideal solution I’d thought I was engineering for myself. And now I was stuck in a house with Jonah “Eight-Pack” Bodine.

“Um. So hi,” I said when he came to a halt and just stared at me with those green eyes. Smooth, Shelby. Super smooth and casual.

I was a nerd and as a nerd, I excelled in flirting with nerd men. My interactions with tall, lean, frowny athletic types were slightly less natural.

He was dressed in workout gear. Shorts, a t-shirt, sneakers. And everywhere I looked, I saw things I liked. Muscle. Stubble. Sharp green eyes that looked as though they could peel my skin back and look inside me. He had a breathtaking smile that I’d spotted a time or two, but he definitely wasn’t aiming that particular weapon at me now.

He gave me a long blank look.

Nervously, I smiled wider.

His brows knit together.

Our facial expressions were carrying on different conversations.

I knew there was a simple misunderstanding at the heart of Jonah’s barely concealed contempt for me. But I also knew he wasn’t exactly amenable to clearing the air right now.

“I’m sure we can work this out,” I said cheerily.

“I don’t know what you did to make my sister think this was a good idea,” he said calmly. “I don’t want to know. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” With that, my new roommate somberly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

A moment later, I heard a door slam and music kick on somewhere above me. Scarlett’s abbreviated tour hadn’t actually included the upstairs. But I’d get to that. For now, it was imperative to establish a territory.

I was in a hostile living situation. And I was not about to let the enemy corral me into a bedroom. With him pouting or manscaping or learning to play death metal on the ukulele—whatever attractive, athletic types did in their spare time—I was free to assert myself downstairs.

It would be too easy in this situation to retreat. To ensconce myself in a bedroom and stay out of Jonah’s way. He’d been here first. But I was sticking. I was staying in Bootleg Springs until this dang dissertation was finished. And I was going to be comfortable while doing it, gosh darn it!

Glancing around, I tapped my fingers to my lips. The kitchen was a galley setup with the back door at the far end. Not enough room for me to spread out in there. Heck, there was barely enough room to open the refrigerator door. And forget about opening the refrigerator and the oven door at the same time.

The dining room was on the other side of the kitchen wall. It had a funky wallpaper mural of birch trees and a battered and charming table that overlooked the scrap of backyard. But the high-backed chairs would be too uncomfortable for me to spend long hours in them.

The living room would do, I decided, testing the overstuffed beige couch. It was comfortable and angled toward the fireplace and the TV mounted above the mantel. There was a big window looking out onto the porch, and a shabby chic occasional table and two chairs tucked into the corner. I could confiscate that area and use it as my office.

Back out on the porch, I grabbed my most important belongings. My laptop bag and my box of research. Nothing was going to derail me this time. Nothing was going to stand between me and my degree. I plopped everything down on the table and lowered myself back onto the couch.

Decision made, space claimed, I closed my eyes for a minute. The backache was sharper today, and I regretted carting all of my belongings onto the porch. Now, they’d need to be hauled upstairs, and I lacked the energy for it. I was toeing the line already. Much more, and I’d shove myself right over the edge.

I’d focus on the essentials. Everything else would be safe on the porch. It was covered.

I wondered if there were bears in Bootleg Springs. I wasn’t exactly the outdoorsy archetype. I was the stay inside and read a book type. Living in Pittsburgh for the past few years had limited my wildlife experiences.