“Jared Storm is my freaking housemate.”
“What?!”
“Scratch that. He’s my roommate. Room—mate,” I add for emphasis as all my frustrations from the day bubble to the surface. Winter Allen may be about to become Jared’s sister-in-law, but she’s been my bestie since we were toddlers, and I know she’ll understand.
“Hold up.” Winter’s tone goes from playful to near-panic. “Jared’s yourroommate?”
“Yes.”
“But how? Why? Can’t you just kick him out?”
“Not fast enough.” I fill her in on how Jared surprised me at the airport and we ended up here. “And he swears it will all be okay andwhy don’t we just try it?His cat did me in.”
“That sounds like a Storm,” Winter murmurs, and I can hear the sympathy in her voice. “I can understand how you’re feeling.”
Yes, she can. Winter ended up as Hunter’s housemate when she returned home to New Orleans, under a similarly-unplanned situation. Of course, they used to hook up as teenagers, and before long, they were again. All of these thoughts cross my mind, which makes me think of Jared, and now my face feels very hot.
I fan my cheeks with my free hand as I say, rapid-fire, “Not the same relationship between Jared and me. We’ve always just been friends.”
“But you two have something else going on,” Winter says. “I don’t know exactly what, but we can all see it.”
I jump in before she can say more. “It’s just too…close quarters here.”
“Maybe Jared’s right. Trying it isn’t the worst idea,” Winter says, and I can tell she’s decided to change tacks.
“I know where you’re going,” I say to her. “You want to help, and you’re actually encouraging me to follow my feelings.”
“Well, it’s better than burying your feelings.”
“Not in this case.”
Winter laughs. “I expect a full report in the morning.”
“Not a chance. Nothing is going to happen tonight. Promise.”
“How about a text and a photo of your cabin?”
“I’ll consider it.”
We both laugh.
“I miss you, Win. I’m already homesick.”
“Miss you too. Peyton and I went out for drinks tonight. It wasn’t the same without you.”
The knock on my door makes me jump.
“Be right there!” I call out. “I better go,” I say to Winter. “Send Peyton my love.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Jared and I sit across from one another at a booth in the back of the Lucky Cowboy bar. We each have a pint of beer and are sharing a plate of chicken wings and fries.
Jared grumbled that I’m bad for his healthy diet, but he didn’t fight me very hard when I went ahead and ordered the wings plate for two. I know what he likes, and I know when he needs to let the job go and relax for an evening. His eyes have dark circles under them, and I have yet to learn why.
I glance around the dimly lit bar at the sea of cowboy boots and hats.
“You don’t seem to fit in here,” I say as I turn back to him.
