Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(3)

“I… I’m… mine’s not done,” I said, my voice barely loud enough to reach him.

Fortunately, Susan was already waving her sketch in his face, moving around to stand at his side. How was it that she had more game than I did? Well, most women did, but she was in her sixties. She had grandchildren. She was wearing sandals with socks.

But with Jackson’s attention on Susan’s work, I was free to stare at him again. My fingers itched to reach for the pencil and sketch the line of his throat, but that ship had sailed. Instead, I took my last opportunity to stare at him with awe.

Susan looked up and bit back a laugh. “Come on, Penny, show this handsome young fellow your drawing.”

Oh no. Panic filled me. “I… it’s not done.”

“That’s okay,” Jackson said in his warm voice. “I don’t think Carl was expecting a masterpiece in a ninety-minute class.” His blue eyes pinned me in place. “I’d really like to see it.”

It was really hard to say no to a man who looked like that, but it would’ve been even harder to show him my sketch. But I couldn’t figure out what to say to the Greek god in front of me.

Fortunately, at that moment, Carl called Jackson’s name. My art teacher was at the back of the room, standing next to the door of his office as he waved Jackson over.

“Saved by the bellow,” the young gorgeous model mused, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Have a nice evening, Susan and Penny.”

Wow. The sound of my name rolling off his tongue was almost enough to make my knees give way.

“Wow,” Susan said, echoing my thoughts as Jackson walked away. The tight robe outlined the contours of what looked like an excellent backside. That had never been a part of a man’s body I’d been particularly interested in, but that was before I’d laid eyes on Jackson.

Then Susan pushed my arm in what she likely thought was a good-natured way. “Why didn’t you show him your drawing?”

“Are you kidding? I could barely even talk to him.”

She laughed. “I noticed. But holy crap, he was fine. If I were thirty years younger… and not married, well, I’d be all over him.”

“Yeah,” I said uncomfortably. It felt like I was a teenager again and all my friends were gushing over a cute boy in our class. I never knew the right thing to say in those kinds of situations.

Susan sighed wistfully. “It’s going to be a hell of a letdown to draw a fruit basket or whatever next week. See you then, Penny.”

“See you.”

I slid my sketch into a large portfolio folder and put away my easel and the stool. Most of the other students had already gone, and I didn’t want to walk through the dark parking lot alone. Before I left, however, I took one last look at Jackson. He was talking to Carl in his office, still wearing his robe.

A fantasy flashed through my mind. It involved Jackson coming out and offering to model while I finished my drawing. But that quickly morphed into a more adult scenario in which he took me in his arms and pulled me down on top of him on the platform in the middle of the room, and—

I shook my head to clear it. Art class was over, and there was no point in thinking about such an impossible scenario. But as I made my way out into the parking lot, I couldn’t keep a small smile from my lips. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d thought about a man in a sexual way. Having a broken heart didn’t lend itself to that kind of thing very well. Heck, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d smiled, but I sure had tonight.

It had been accompanied by a blush the size of a small nation-state, but hey, at least I’d smiled.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to me much these days.

Maybe Jackson had brought me some good luck.





2





PENNY





Ten minutes later, as the engine of my ancient station wagon started to make an unhealthy but familiar sound, I was less convinced that the handsome male model had brought me luck. Or at least not good luck. I guided my car onto the shoulder of the dark road that led from the community college. My car was a complete piece of crap, but thanks to my friend’s mechanically inclined boyfriend, it hadn’t had any problems in the last few weeks.

Until now.

The engine sputtered to a halt, but my first thought was gratitude that at least it wasn’t blocking the road. That had happened to me more than once this past year. I was long overdue to get a newer car, but that had been out of reach even before I’d lost my job. So there was no chance of it now.

The smell of burning rubber floated through the vents, but I was used to it now. The first time my car had broken down like this, I’d scrambled out, expecting it to burst into flames at any second. But now, sadly, this was familiar territory.

That didn’t mean I knew what to do, however. I checked my phone. It was nearly ten. That meant I would be waking my parents if I called them, so I ruled that out. My first choice was my friend, Lila, but she was out at the inn this week, which was well over an hour’s drive. Plus, she’d feel obligated to bring Gideon, and he’d already spent far too much time fixing up my joke of a vehicle.

I did a quick survey of who lived nearby. My parents both came from big families, so I had aunts, uncles, and cousins spattered throughout the Chicago suburbs. But a recent family rift made me hesitate to reach out. It was too hard to remember exactly who’d sided with me and who’d supported my awful cousin, Tanya.