Room...but Not Bored!. Dawn Atkins

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СКАЧАТЬ to spend a year in Europe. That was what she wanted, though she’d stopped talking about it. He’d seen the flyer on her desk when he was home at Thanksgiving—Study Abroad. See Europe and earn college credit. He’d asked her about it and she’d sounded so jazzed until she read him the costs. Then her enthusiasm faded. Too much money. She didn’t have to say it.

      That was when he decided he would make it happen. He’d pay her way, arrange everything, including running interference with the old man. Jake would not let Penny suffer for his sins. As soon as she had her high school diploma, he’d break her out of the brig his parents kept her in.

      “So, I can’t wait for this weekend,” Penny said. “You can teach us to surf—I’m bringing Sheila. She wants to sailboard.”

      “Um, that’s kind of why I called,” he said, hating to disappoint her. She asked for so little from him—or anyone. “We’ll have to postpone the trip for a couple weeks.”

      “Postpone it? Why?”

      “The living situation has changed. It turns out the owner sold the cottage and now I’ve got a landlord living here.”

      “So, we’ll bring sleeping bags and crash on the floor.”

      “Not yet. She’s a little touchy right now.”

      “She? Your landlord’s a woman?”

      “Yeah.”

      “She single?”

      “Why does that matter?”

      “So turn on the Jake charm already.”

      “I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t kick me out on my ass.”

      “Does she have eyes? Ears? A libido?”

      “Libido? That is not a word you should even understand, let alone use.”

      “I’m sixteen, Jake. I’m a woman. With womanly needs.”

      “That’s enough of that.” The whole idea creeped him out. “You take it slow. You have your whole life to get involved in…that stuff….” He felt himself flush. Penny needed a solid guy who would look out for her, worship the ground she walked on, and only when she was mature enough to get serious.

      “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said. “You sure I can’t come?”

      “Sorry.”

      “I guess Mom and I will rent movies or something.”

      “Go out with friends. Don’t let them trap you at home.”

      “They don’t lock me in a tower. If you’re so worried about me, talk your landlord into letting me stay. What’s her name?”

      “Ariel.”

      “That’s pretty. Is she? Pretty, I mean.”

      “She’s all right.” Compactly built, with everything in the right place from what he could see through the business suit. For a moment, he thought of sleeping with her. Bad idea if he wanted to live here through the summer and maybe beyond.

      Sleeping with a roommate was a mistake he’d learned from Charlotte. She’d agreed they’d keep it light, just enjoy each other, but then she wanted to know where he was every minute, pouted if he wasn’t home for dinner, acted like a wife, for God’s sake. Then he’d hurt her feelings. He’d hated that. Why did women think they could change him? Why did they even want to? He was who he was and that ought to be enough.

      “So, why not…see what happens?” Penny said.

      “We are not having this conversation, Pen.”

      “Okay. I just wish you’d find someone special so you’d stop hassling me.”

      “I’m just looking out for you.”

      “Then get me invited to the beach house.”

      “I will. As soon as I’m sure I’m staying.”

      “If she’s a woman, you’ll be staying.”

      He wasn’t sure how to take that and did not like his sister even hinting about his love life. “Do something fun this weekend,” he commanded, then hung up, his roommate jumping into his mind. She’d be hot in bed, he’d bet—active, motivated, goal-oriented. Useful traits in the sack. Hmm.

      Nope. He needed Ariel as a roommate, not a playmate.

      A PUFF OF DAMP AIR blew Ariel awake. Had she left the window of her London flat open to the drizzle? She opened her eyes just as a wet, black blob snorted at her. Focusing one eye, she made out an animal muzzle and realized it was attached to the dog that had burst out of the house when she’d first arrived. Pleased that he’d awakened her, the dog pranced a couple of steps, then shook itself mightily, spraying water and sand everywhere.

      The reality of Ariel’s situation came back to her like a belly flop in the pool of her stomach. Gone was the charming London flat she’d shared with Trudy, replaced by a cramped beach house jammed with water sports junk and construction debris. She picked up the sound of rock-and-roll playing in the front of the house and a woman’s teasing laugh, followed by Jake’s voice.

      The dog, poised near her face, gave a desperate whine—get up and play. When Ariel didn’t move, he loped to the more interesting side of the house.

      She felt gritty all over—her skin, her hair, her eyes. It wasn’t her exhausted imagination, she learned when she found sand on the sheets and pressed into the undersides of her arms.

      The fading light told her it was dusk. Woozy and not a bit rested, she looked at her travel alarm, which she’d taken from her bag when Jake’s banging around the cottage woke her for the third time, and saw that she’d only napped for an hour.

      She looked at the giant hole in the wall between her room and where Jake would sleep. Judging from the lush sound of that woman’s voice, Jake might have company tonight. She’d like to tell him no—the last thing she wanted to hear were erotic moans and headboard banging—but she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up sex with him in any regard. She’d only have to put up with his nocturnal guests for one night, maybe two, until Jake moved out.

      Ariel brushed off the grit, climbed out of bed and went to the bureau mirror to see if she looked as bad as she felt. Oh, yeah. Her hair had come loose from her bun, her mascara formed exhausted semicircles under her eyes and she had the indents of sand pebbles all along her left cheek.

      She felt something soft under her feet and found her silk stockings in a tangled wad. Clusters of holes and long runs decorated the delicate silk. She’d protected them from sand damage only to have that monstrous dog nose them off her bureau and ruin them. She didn’t even have the energy to work up a fit of temper at the dog. At least she had a second pair in her suitcase.

      “Jake, don’t,” the woman called in a tone that meant don’t stop. Feminine wiles and coy flirtation. Blech. Ariel didn’t play games. If she wanted to sleep with a man, which she did from time to time, she showed him with a deep kiss, or responded favorably to his caress. Or she just plain suggested it. Why get silly about СКАЧАТЬ