Page 6 of Cool for the Summer

“Told us what?” I’m starting to get a bad feeling about whatever my cousin isn’t saying.

“Spit it out,” Donovan says gruffly.

“So, we accidentally double-booked the house. Pete asked Van if he could stay here and take care of Cleo, and I asked you, Beck. And since you,” he turns to Van, “are such a great friend and you,” he points to me, “are such an amazing cousin, you dropped everything to help us out. Which we really appreciate.”

Jack doesn’t point out that he’s doing me a favor by giving me a place to live rent-free for two months, and I don’t bring it up.

“So what now?” Donovan asks.

“Well, if one of you wants to be let off the hook, now’s your chance to speak up,” Pete says.

I’m not about to give up the gig that easily. My fantasies about following Donovan to New York notwithstanding, I don’t really like the city. And if Donovan’s here, I’ve lost my incentive to leave. I glance at him, but he keeps his lips pressed together.

“Or you can both stay here,” Pete goes on. “Which I think is the ideal solution. That way, if one of you has something come up, there’s a backup to take care of Cleo. She’ll get twice as much attention, and the house is big enough that the two of you don’t even have to see each other much if you don’t want to. I know it’s a little strange to have an unexpected roommate, but, hey, we’ve had worse living situations, right, Van?”

Donovan’s lips curl. “Don’t remind me.” He glances my way, seeming to study me. I’m overly aware of my wrinkled shirt, my battered boat shoes. I was in too much pain to be self-conscious this morning, but now it feels as if I’m being inspected and will be found wanting.

It doesn’t help that Donovan, even in a casual T-shirt, jeans, and a plain black baseball cap, emanates a sort of rugged magnetic beauty, the kind that makes you want to never stop looking at him and shy away at the same time. I’ve never seen him act, but I can imagine a camera loving him, an audience hanging on his every word.

Maybe he’ll bail and I won’t have to figure out how to live in close quarters with a man I have a hard time simply looking at.

“Well,” Donovan catches my gaze for a split second, then turns to Pete and shrugs nonchalantly, “I’m cool with it if Beck is.”

I’ve never regretted my love of tequila more. My brain is too foggy to think this through. I don’t want to find somewhere else to live for the summer, but is it such a good idea to share a house with a guy I’m attracted to? On the other hand, outside the thrift shop, I gave Donovan an opening to ask me out—and he hadn’t taken it, so that answers that.

Donovan is just a guy. I try to remember the way we bantered in the coffee shop, the thrift store. We’d gotten along, right?

Besides, I really don’t have much choice. I have nowhere else to go.

“I’m cool with it.” My voice sounds far away to my own ears.

Pete and Jack share a relieved smile and Cleo barks once, as if to signal her approval as well.

I lean down to scratch her behind the ears, and the dizziness comes back with a hefty dose of nausea. I gingerly let myself off the stool. “I’m going to throw up now.”

“You don’t want to throw up that delicious breakfast, do you?” Donovan asks, sounding amused.

I put a hand on my stomach. “Might not have much of a choice.”

“Jack, do you have an ice pack?” Donovan asks quickly.

A moment later, a cold pack is being pressed to the back of my neck, and I’m being led to the living room couch.

“Better?”

I blink up at Donovan, my nausea receding. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Donovan winks. “No problem, roomie.”

My stomach swoops and it has nothing to do with my hangover. Shit.

“I’ll get the info on Cleo and fill you in later. Take it easy.”

“Thanks,” I say again, and Donovan leaves me to suffer in peace. I’m not at my best right now, but I have to believe that when I get the poison out of my system, I can handle spending two months living with a guy who presses all my buttons. It doesn’t have to be weird. I’m a grown up. I can totally handle this.

I close my eyes, move the ice pack from my neck to my forehead, yawn.

I’ll handle it just as soon as I wake up from my nap.

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