Power Drilled (Roommates, #8)(7)



I sighed. “My portfolio’s in the trunk.” I got out of the car and moved to the back of my station wagon where he joined me. It took me three tries to get it to open—very little about my car worked correctly the first time. “It’s in there.” I pointed to the black portfolio.

While he peered into it, I concentrated on his truck. It was an old pickup truck. Well, old was a relative term, since it had to be newer than my car. It looked to be black or at least a dark gray or something.

A flash of light caught my eye, and I turned back to Jackson. He had his phone out, and for an alarming moment, I thought he was taking a picture of my sketch. Then I realized he’d just turned it on for the flashlight.

He stared at my sketch while I looked at everything else except that. Then he laughed.

“Hey!”

“Sorry.” He was obviously trying to stop, but he couldn’t. “It’s just that… well, you seemed to have zeroed in on some parts more than others. Some of my favorite parts, actually.”

I knew exactly what he meant. “I can draw people’s faces anytime. I don’t often get the opportunity to sketch men’s… private parts.” I sounded like a child again, but I couldn’t bring myself to use more specific language.

“I’d be a bit worried about you if you did.”

He panned his phone over the sketch. “I guess I’m lucky I even have a head in your drawing. The big head, I mean.” He was still chuckling.

My face was more flushed than ever, but he wasn’t looking at me. “I ran out of time.”

“All the more reason for me to come back.” His voice was more thoughtful now. “This really is well done. You have nice steady hands—at least when you’re not dropping your pencil, that is.”

“It was cold in the classroom,” I said stiffly. “My fingers were numb.”

“Really?” He dragged out the word. “I could’ve sworn you looked flushed while you were sketching me. Now that I’ve seen what you were focusing on, I guess I know why.”

I bit my lip and looked at the trees. Then his truck. Then the moon. Pretty much anywhere except in his direction. Then light flooded the back of my car, and I saw to my relief that he was sliding my sketch back into the portfolio. He looked up, peering over my shoulder as a loud, lumbering engine noise filled the night.

“Looks like your roadside assistance is here,” he said.

I nodded as I bit my lower lip. I was grateful to see the truck, but I sure as hell wished the driver had gotten here five minutes earlier. Then I wouldn’t have had to show my sketch to Jackson or anyone. I could’ve torn it up at home and no one would have ever seen it.

Except I knew I wouldn’t have done it. Even if I didn’t want anyone else to see it, I know I would’ve looked at it again. And again. And again.

Not because my drawing was spectacular, but because Jackson was.





3





PENNY





“He sounds super hot. Do you have a picture of him?” Lila asked eagerly.

“I wish,” I said honestly as I wedged the phone between my ear and my shoulder. I still had the sketch, of course, but no way was I showing her that.

“Do you know his last name?”

“No.” That severely limited my ability to stalk him online. Er, I meant search. It was natural to be curious about a man you just met, right? Especially one you’ve seen naked.

“Maybe your art teacher can give you his number.”

I gave a small laugh. “So I can do what, call him out of the blue?”

That was something Lila would do, but not me. She knew how shy I was. I no longer filmed videos for her, but she was still a very good friend.

“You could thank him for the ride the other night,” Lila pointed out.

I paced around my tiny living room as I considered that option. The hanging plant by the window needed watering. And there was a lump under the blanket on the recliner. I nudged aside the blanket and found a sock. A man’s sock. Jeff hadn’t been here in nearly a month, so what was his sock doing here? I carried it to the kitchen trash can.

“Penny?”

“I’m here,” I said. “I was just thinking about Jeff.”

“Don’t,” Lila said instantly. “He’s taken up too much of your life already. If you want to think about something, think about this new guy. Even if you never see him again, it’s healthier than thinking about your ex.”

“Agreed.” And more fun, too.

“Hell, I haven’t even seen him, and I’m going to be thinking about him.”

I laughed. “Isn’t three men enough for you?”

“They do make life interesting,” Lila said after a slight pause, and I wondered what she’d been thinking of. Probably some fabulously intimate encounter with her guys. “So that’s Dr. Lila’s prescription for you. Think about hot men, not idiotic ones who treat you like crap and then cheat on you with your cousin.”

Though it was a known fact—a painfully known fact—her words made me wince. Lila wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but she seemed to recognize she’d been too blunt.

“Sorry. I just—I’m still pissed at that piece of shit.”

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