The Temporary Roomie (It Happened in Nashville 2)

“We are going to get a better look in that restaurant.” I can feel the giant wobbly topknot bouncing enthusiastically on the top of my head with each step.

“Oh no we are not,” Lucy says, scurrying up behind me in her flashy dress. Good for her. She never wears flashy dresses. I’m surprised Cooper shared her with me tonight. “Are you serious? I just noticed your matching burrito slippers! No one can see you like this! Take it from someone who has been caught in all manner of embarrassing situations…you don’t want this,” she says, gesturing wildly up and down my body.

“That’s the difference between us—you get caught. I do not.”

Her eyes bug out. “Rhyming, Jessie? RHYMING! This isn’t the time!”

“It’s always time for a good rhyme.”

“Jessie, stop.” Lucy tugs on my hand, pulling me to a halt. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you, I want to catch him in the lie.” Someone is not paying close attention when someone else is talking. Not to point fingers, but…it’s Lucy.

She’s exasperated. “The real reason, please.”

I sigh and shift on my burritos. I can’t tell her the truth—she’ll tell Drew. Not because she means to divulge my feelings to him, but because she’s Lucy and can’t lie or keep a secret to save her life. Letting my eyes speak louder than my words is the only hint I’m willing to give her. So I hold her gaze and shrug my shoulders in a look of resigned defeat, the pathetic look of a person not wanting to admit the truth but who is also hopeless to hold it inside much longer. I’m a prisoner to my own fear, and that’s how it has to be right now.

“I just need to, okay? It’s important to me.”

Lucy’s brows crunch together, and her lips pull to the side. She assesses my face, thinking it over for a few seconds. Finally, she groans…loudly and with an open mouth. “Okay. Let’s do this. But please, for the love, don’t let him see us. I’m too old to be spying on my brother.”

I scoff, offended that she would even feel the need to say that. I’m wearing a taco robe and plush burritos on my feet—believe me, if there were an option where I didn’t have to be here tonight spying on Drew, I’d take it. I tried to sit home like an uninvested bystander, and it didn’t work. TV couldn’t distract me. I matched each of my socks in a flash. I ordered a luggage set off of the Home Shopping Network that I’ll never use. In the end, I had to come and see Drew on this date for myself, because apparently, I love torture.

Lucy and I sneak around the building, opting to hover on the opposite side from the judgy valet and peek through the glass. The restaurant has nearly floor-to-ceiling windows except for a three-foot-tall brick edging, so we are able to have a mostly unobstructed view of the warmly lit, expansive dining area. There’s a shiny black concrete floor and so many Edison bulb light fixtures I’ll have a filament spot burned into my eyes for the rest of the week. The tables are made of a dark oak wood, and the chairs are black tufted leather. It’s trendy, and moody, and exactly the sort of place I’d love to go on a date. Instead, I’m standing outside with my nose pressed to the glass dressed like a taco shop mascot escaped from du

ty.

Lucy bounces beside me. “Do you see him? Can we go yet?”

No…I don’t. I DON’T! My eyes scan around the restaurant with jubilant glee as I take note of every single patron and not a single sign of Drew in sight. “I knew it!” I fist-pump the air. My heart is exploding. This was all a ploy to make me jealous! He said he wouldn’t sit around and pine after me, but he can’t help it. He’s definitely on a bench somewhere, Sufjan Stevens playing in his ears. And now I get to gloat, dropping cryptic little comments over our bowls of cereal in the morning, making a big show of wanting to know every detail of his date. Am I mean and horrible? Yup, but fighting with Drew is the only outlet I have for the desire that builds inside me every time he’s around. It’s the only way I can let it out.

It’s going to be—wait. No.

Lucy gasps. “There he is! Walking toward that table across the room! He must have been in the bathroom…”

My heart sinks all the way down to the lettuce in my burritos as I watch him smile at the woman now sitting in front of him. She’s beautiful. Down to earth, curvy, I-rolled-right-out-of-bed-this-pretty-and-radiant sort of woman. She looks sweet. Sort of like the way Lucy looks with those wide, innocent doe eyes. I would never have pegged this woman to have scribbled her number on Drew’s coffee cup. I bet it was the only daring thing she’s ever done. Good for her. GOOD. FOR. HER.

Lucy puts her hand on my arm. “Looks like he really is on a date.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious! I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud. Lucy doesn’t deserve my wrath. It’s my own fault for not telling Drew the truth. I made my bed, and it’s time to lie in it. Alone. And cold. And manless.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? Your jaw is clenching so hard I’m worried for your teeth.”

I relax my face and give her a pacifying smile. “Better?”

“No. Now you look like a serial killer.”

“You’re full of compliments tonight. Let’s go, I need some Twizzlers now.”

Before we turn away, I see the woman put her hand on top of Drew’s, and I’m filled with the urge to go rip that arm from its socket. No sooner than the woman’s arm touches his skin does it look like Drew gets hit with a bolt of awareness and his eyes shift like magnets to where Lucy and I are standing. We both gasp. Lucy does what she does best and drops to the ground out of sight. I do a spin roll until my back meets the brick siding. I wish I could drop to the ground too, but I’m 8 months pregnant now so the only thing that’s dropping these days is this baby.

“Do you think he saw us?!” Lucy asks.

“Nah—we’re good.” He totally saw us. “C’mon, we better get out of here. NO, DON’T STAND UP! Army-crawl, woman!”

“Oh my gosh, if I get knee scrapes from this, I’m never forgiving you.”