Good Girl (Love Unexpectedly 2)

“She learned that from you?” I ask.

“Really? Unoriginal insults?” she asks, taking a sip of tea. “That’s what I get for bringing you something to drink?”

“You sure you didn’t just do it so you could prance around like that?” I say, raking my gaze down her body, deliberately condescending.

Jenny rolls her eyes. “Did you go to an all-boys school or something? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a girl in a bikini before.”

She’s right, and it pisses me off not only to be acting like a horny schoolboy but also to be called out on it.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask, bending down to pick up my hammer.

Her shoulders slump just the slightest bit, and I feel like an ass. But then her shoulders go back and her chin lifts before she turns on her heel and marches back into the house without so much as a goodbye.

A minute later I’m back at work, and I hear the now familiar strum of her guitar from the balcony above me, but it’s an angrier melody this time, fast and a little discordant.

And then she starts to sing, her voice pitch-perfect. “There once was a guy named Noah, he was as appealing as a boa. Whatever happened, whoa-oh-oh, whatever happened, whoa-oh-oh, to rot his soul?”

I shake my head. There’s more strumming on the guitar, and her Noah-hate song continues.

“His face was average, his eyes were cold. His body flubby, whoa-oh-oh. His kiss was filthy, his flavor bad. He tried to woo me, and it was sad, whoa-oh-oh.”

The song is ri

diculous. A little childish.

And yet as it continues on with a list of all my flaws, I can’t help but smile a little. Not only at her spunk…but at the very satisfying realization that I sure as hell am not the only one haunted by that kiss.

Jenny

Would you believe me if I said I’m not bored?

I’m really, really not, which is incredible, even to me.

Did it take me a little while to detox from my Instagram addiction? Yah. Does it feel weird to talk to my parents and Amber on a phone that’s connected to the wall with a cord? Absolutely.

But apparently even I didn’t realize how desperately I need a reprieve, because I’m feeling more whole, more Jenny out here in the middle of nowhere, with nobody but Dolly and Ranger to keep me regular company, than I did in L.A. Heck, I even feel more me here than I did in Nashville. I love that city to death, but after All of Me hit the lists, I couldn’t even get a Frappuccino without someone wanting to get a selfie with me.

But here in Glory, Louisiana, my mind’s never felt clearer, my music’s never been better.

I was right to come here.

Whether this place triggers some emotional response to that first song I wrote all those years ago or whether there’s something magical about it, it’s working for me.

This spontaneous, get-away-from-it-all isolation is working, except for one teeny-tiny detail.

The damn handyman.

I hope he liked my little song earlier today, because I meant every word.

Except for the part about his face being average.

Oh, and the part where I said his body was flubby.

His.

Body.

Is.