The Temporary Roomie (It Happened in Nashville 2)

She clicks her seatbelt in the latch and swivels to look at me as I put the car in drive. “So where are we going? Dinner? Dancing?” She shimmies her shoulders, and knowing what I do about Lucy, I bet she regrets it instantly.

“Oh my gosh, better!” I say, wagging my eyebrows.

“Where?!”

“Get this: we are going to enjoy a nice relaxing evening of f

inishing off a fabulous bag of Twizzlers while sitting outside Bask.”

Her head tilts in suspicion. She’s onto me. “Isn’t that the place Drew is taking his date tonight?”

I morph my face into innocent shock. “What? Is it? I had no clue.” But really, I had no clue Drew would tell Lucy about his plans. It’s inconvenient they are so close.

I glance at Lucy in time to see her shoulders drop and arms cross. “We’re going to spy on my brother, aren’t we?”

“Noooo,” I say, like that thought never crossed my mind and I love sitting outside restaurants while I eat stale candy just for fun.

“We are.” She flops back against the seat and pouts. It’s all drama with this one. “I can’t believe you let me get all dolled up and made me believe we were doing something fun tonight, when really I have to stare at my ugly brother through a restaurant window!”

I scoff. “Okay, well, you’re totally wrong. He’s not ugly.” I glance sideways and find her burning a hole through my face.

“Last I heard, you weren’t attracted to him in that way.”

“What a little loose-lipped pouty-pouterson! Can he not keep anything to himself?” I say, deeply put out by him divulging our conversation to Lucy. How much of it did he tell her? Did he mention that all the pranks were really just him flirting? Or that he likes me? I still can’t wrap my mind around it. Drew. DREW MARSHALL LIKES ME. At least, he did before I kicked him in the metaphorical groin and ran away. What can I say, though? He’s not in the plan. Drew was never supposed to happen. He was supposed to hate me, and I’d hate him in return. No grand feelings, no recklessness. And definitely NO new relationships with a baby coming shortly.

“Okay, that’s it—turn around and take me home. I didn’t sign up for this.” I hit the child locks and gun it. She gasps in outrage. “Are you seriously holding me hostage right now?!”

“I’m really doing this for you.”

“How do you figure?”

Alright, she’s got me there. This has absolutely no positive outcomes for her. “Fiiinnne. I just don’t want to go alone, okay? Please go with me.” Lucy can’t say no to me (or really anyone). It’s her biggest failing in life, and I’m milking it now.

“Ooo, here’s an idea: you don’t have to go alone because YOU DON’T HAVE TO GO AT ALL.”

“OW!” I wiggle my knuckle against my ear. “I think you burst my eardrum.”

She rolls her eyes, not looking regretful at all that I’ll have to wear a hearing aid from now on. “Why do you care anyway? It’s not as if you like Drew.” She pauses and whips her head to me, auburn locks flying dramatically around her. “Or do you?!”

I grimace and pretend to gag like Ew, Drew? Hate him, grossest human I’ve ever met. “Absolutely not. I just think he’s lying and not really on a date tonight. I want to catch him.” Because who could find a date that fast anyway? And do women really write their names on the sides of to-go coffee cups outside of the movies? I think not, your honor.

I have had plenty of time to think about it the last two days since I first overheard Drew setting up this little “date”, and I’m almost positive it’s a sham. He got his pride hurt so he wanted to rub his ability to pick up women in my face. A little salt in the old wound trick. Well, HA!—I’m onto you, Drew. And I’m about to catch you in the saddest solo dinner date ever. Maybe he won’t even be here. Maybe he’s sitting on a bench by the lake, throwing bread to ducks while melancholy music plays in his earbuds. One can only hope.

Lucy gripes and complains at me all the way to the restaurant, but I mostly tune her out because I’m on a mission and won’t be deterred. Once we pull up at the restaurant, a valet comes to my door and opens it, revealing the plush taco print robe I didn’t bother changing out of. “Oh, no! Sorry! We’re not valet parking. We’re just waiting here for a friend.”

He’s judgy as he takes in my outfit. “This is a valet-only zone, ma’am. You can’t park here.”

“So sorry. I’ll move!” I shut the door and drive the car forward about four and a half feet.

Pesky valet knocks on my window, shaking his head. “Not here either. You’re going to have to pull around to the parking lot.”

The parking lot?! But that’s at the back of the building. I’ll never be able to see in the windows that way. How am I supposed to stalk someone without being able to see through a window?

Lucy’s bottom lip juts out. “Oh poo, I guess your plan is foiled and we have to go home.” She mock snaps like it’s bumming her out.

I point a stern finger at Lucy. “That’s enough sass from you.”

Doing as I’m told, I pull around the parking lot and get out of the car. Lucy follows suit, her heels clicking on the pavement, a panicked expression on her face. “Wait, wait, wait—where are you going? UH, Jessie, where are you going dressed like a human taco?!”