Page 32 of Drive Me Wilde

"You're learning," Jameson says.

I smile at him. "Maybe it is time to break out the stretched corduroys and belt."

"Thanks. And to add weight to that suggestion, I'm about to make some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Care for one?"

"Actually, that sounds good." Sunni's peanut butter and jelly still sticks in my mind as one of the better things to happen during my ordeal.

Rio all but tosses herself onto the sofa next to me. "Before we go through the pictures—check out this baby otter video Bella sent me."

I watch the video and agree with Rio that I want to have the baby otter as a pet. She yanks the phone away as soon as the video ends. "Uh oh, special alert coming in from Olivia." She giggles and gets a little squirrely about something her friend sent her. Her face turns red. "Jeez, Ollie, give a girl a warning," she says as she scrolls through some photos.

"Now I'm curious," I say. "What did Ollie send?" I reach for the phone, but she pulls it away.

"What's going on?" Jameson asks as he places the plates on the coffee table.

"Olivia sent something that is worthy of giggles and a blush," I say.

"Rio, what ya lookin' at?" Jameson asks with a fatherly edge to his tone.

Rio is holding her phone tightly in her hands. Her eyes round, and she sits forward so fast, her boots kick the coffee table. "Oh my gosh." She looks at me then at the phone and then back at me. "It can't be," she says.

I tilt my head. "All right. What's on that phone?" I reach for it but miss. Jameson is much better at grabbing it away.

"Darn you, Dad."

Jameson glances casually at the photo. "Why is Olivia sending you photos of grown men in under—" He stops and holds the phone closer. He repeats Rio's moves by looking at me and back at the phone. "Jones, why are you standing on a sidewalk with Landon Arlo and why is Arlo basically naked?" He turns the phone toward me, but I already know what I'll see.

I glance briefly at the photo and mostly notice that I look like hell.

Rio snatches the phone from her dad's hand. "Just a bit of friendly girl advice," Rio says. "If you're going to meet up with Landon Arlo in his underwear at least brush your hair."

"Is that what they're callingfriendlygirl advice these days?" I say with a lifted brow.

"Put the phone away and eat your sandwich," Jameson says in a tone that makes her do exactly that.

I sit back on the sofa with my sandwich, keenly aware that Jameson is still watching me. "He's the guy?" he finally asks. "That's the guy who pushed you?"

I look over. Rio is busy texting her friends, no doubt letting them know that the bedraggled woman standing next to Landon is sitting on her dad's sofa.

"Yes, he's the guy. But like I said, I pushed him first."

"And yet, if he comes to town, famous or not, he's going to have to deal with me."

I can't say I hate his instinct to protect me, and it's not the first time it's happened. I remember standing in the lunch line in eighth grade and having Greg Thompson bump into me so hard, I fell to my knees. Greg was a big, block-headed goofball, and he bumped into me because he was laughing about something and didn't watch where he was going. Greg outweighed Jameson by at least fifty pounds in middle school, but Jameson flew across the lunch quad, grabbed Greg by the shirt and hurled him into a set of tables. Greg got a fat lip and bruised knee, and Jameson got suspended.

I take a bite of sandwich and shrug. "He won't come here. He's moved on. In fact, he moved on while we were still a couple. That's why I pushed him."

Jameson sits up straighter in the easy chair. "So, you were dating Landon Arlo? The movie star?"

"You make it sound as if that couldn't possibly be. I lived in L.A., remember? The relationship was never broadcast in public. My boss, his agent, saw to that. She thought it would hurt his superstar potential if he was in a serious relationship, so he wore a lot of disguises when we went out. And while I'm not theschool jewel anymore," I continue sharply, "I've still got a little something to offer the opposite sex."

He takes a bite of sandwich and watches me with those pale eyes as he chews and swallows it. "Nope, not seeing it," he teases.

I throw my crust at him. "And you wonder why I always hated you."

He's still staring at me, and it's starting to make me squirm. At the same time, I don't want him to look away.

"Andyouhated me," I say, hesitantly.

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