CHAPTER 9

Monday was my day off, and I was so incredibly ready for it. Strangely, I woke up to find my roommate sleeping in her bed. She must have come in after I’d already been asleep. I wondered why she didn’t just move in with Parker. She’d stayed over twice now, and had gone to his place for dinner again last night, so they were obviously serious.

I tried to be quiet getting out of bed, but she rolled over and looked at me. Smiled. “Hey!”

I’d never known anyone who actually woke up happy.

“Hi,” I muttered. First thing in the morning wasn’t when I was at my best.

“I am totally bummed,” she said. “It’s my day off and Ross has to work. I can’t believe that his day off is tomorrow and he couldn’t find anyone to swap with him—”

She was back to Ross now? Was that why she’d slept in her own bed?

“And it’s so unfair. The whole point of us coming here was so we could be together.”

“What about Parker?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“You slept over—”

“Yeah, so? What has that got to do with anything?”

I shrugged. “Apparently nothing.”

We obviously had a different view on commitment. I mean, I didn’t even want to hang around with the guy, even nonseriously, because I had a boyfriend far, far away.

Suddenly, she sat up. “So you want to go to the mall with me? They had some of the cutest little shops, and I’ve been dying to get back there, but it’s no fun shopping alone, you know? So how ’bout it, roomie? You and me, shopping ’til we drop?”

The other option was to spend the day alone lying on the sand or by the pool. Decisions, decisions . . . what the heck? I was ready to get away.

“Sure, I’d love to go the mall.” Not that I had any money to spend, but maybe I’d find something that would make a unique wedding present for Sarah, and I wanted to send something to Nick so he’d know I was thinking about him.

“Awesome!” Jordan said. “We’ll have oodles of fun!”

The mall was like a thousand other malls in a thousand other cities, and the fact that it was so familiar made me feel less homesick. Though until that moment, I hadn’t even realized that I was homesick.

Not that I had a lot of time to focus on home, not while shopping with Jordan. She was incredible. I’d never known anyone with so much energy or such shopping skills. She seemed able to take in an entire display with a single glance.

“Oh, look at this, isn’t this cute?” she asked, pointing to a pink halter with “YES, IT’S ALL ABOUT ME” glittering on it. “I’ve got to have this.” She peered over at me. “Parker is always telling me that not everything is about me. And that is just so wrong.”

So she was planning to still see Parker. Otherwise, why buy it?

“We should find one for you,” she said. “What sentiment fits you? Princess? Nah. Spoiled? I don’t think so. Too Hot to Handle? Yeah, that would do it.”

She turned to me, holding out the red top that she’d decided suited me.

I laughed. “I’m not too hot to handle.”

“It’s the closest thing I can find.” She shook it at me. “Come on. It’s just for fun. You can wear it to Parker’s hump party.”

“I’m not even sure I’m going.”

“Why not? I know he won’t mind. He told me to invite my roomie and my suitemates.”

So he hadn’t told her that he’d issued me a personal invitation? Wasn’t that interesting? Like he really didn’t want her knowing that he knew me.

Of course he didn’t want her to know. He’d already hinted a couple of times not to mention when he’d called or when he’d shown up at H & G’s. Although he hadn’t come by yesterday, and the awful thing was, I’d kept looking for him. But he’d obviously taken the hint when I’d told him that I didn’t want him bothering me anymore. So now he was going to let Jordan do the bothering.

“I think I’m working Wednesday,” I said.

“Well, if you’re not, you can come. And even if you are, the park closes at ten during the week. Plenty of time to party. Oh, look at these shorts. I’ve got to have them.”

By the time we were finished, we’d eaten lunch at the food court, Jordan had bought something in nearly every store—she’d spent way more than we’d make in earnings that week—and I’d bought the Too Hot to Handle shirt only because she was going to buy it for me if I didn’t, and I didn’t want her spending her money on me. I had a feeling that Jordan saw money the same way that she saw guys—disposable.

Not that it was any of my business.

I didn’t find anything special for Sarah or Nick.

“So how is it working at H & G?” Jordan asked as we were walking to her car.

“Not too bad.”

“You hear from your boyfriend much?”

“We talk at least once a day, usually before I go to bed. And he’s always forwarding me all these jokes through e-mail. Each e-mail’s subject heading is like a hostage watch or something: day 3 without Megan, day 5 without Megan.”

“That’s sweet!”

“It’s so negative, though, like looking at a glass of milk and saying it’s half empty. My subject headings are forty-seven days ’til I’m with Nick, forty-five days ’til I’m with Nick.”

“The anticipation, the countdown. I’m so with you. Positive vibes to get you through the separation. It’s a shame he’s not here. Even seeing him a little bit would be better than not seeing him at all.”

She popped the trunk and dropped her packages inside. I put my single sack in there as well. Then we got in the car. She put the key in the ignition, turned it . . . nothing.

She looked over at me like I’d done something to the car. “It won’t start.”

“Maybe you didn’t turn it far enough.”

She tried again. Nada. Zilch.

“Great! Just great!” She searched around in her mammoth-sized purse and pulled out her cell phone, punched a button, waited . . .

“Hey! I’ve got a problem.”

I tried not to listen as she explained what was happening. It seemed kinda nosey. When she ended the call, she said, “Parker will be here as soon as he can.”

Parker. Great. This could get awkward.

“Let’s wait outside where it’s a little cooler,” she said.

We sat on the hood of her car, my stomach knotting more tightly as the minutes went by. I knew it was ridiculous to worry about what might happen when Parker finally arrived. Would he acknowledge me? Had he told Jordan that he’d called me a couple of times, that we’d shared ice cream, that he’d taken his break with me?

Did any of it mean anything? It couldn’t. They’d slept together afterward. He was just being . . . friendly to her roommate.

A black Mustang pulled up beside us, and Jordan slid off the hood. I didn’t think it was possible, but my stomach knotted up even more tightly when Parker got out of the car.

They greeted each other, then he looked at me, and even though he was wearing sunglasses, I had the impression that it was an extremely penetrating look and my discomfort with the situation intensified.

“This is my roomie, Megan,” Jordan said.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Parker said.

“When?” Jordan asked.

“Long story. What’s wrong with your car?” he asked impatiently.

“It’s broken.”

He scowled. She shrugged and held up her key. “It won’t start, doesn’t make any noise.”

“Great. Probably the battery.”

“Probably. Why don’t you let me take your car while you figure it out? Megan and I have things we need to do.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business. But let’s do a vehicle swap, and we’ll fix you dinner tonight.”

“Who’s we?” he asked, but he was looking at me, probably because I was slowly sliding off the hood, wondering what Jordan was about to get me into.

“Me and Megan.” She glanced over at me. “You don’t mind, do you?”

How could I say no without seeming ungrateful?

“Sure.” If I’d used a longer word, my response would have been a stammer.

“So see?” Jordan said to Parker. “You get a free meal out of the deal.”

“I’m not sure that makes it worth it.”

“Sure it does,” she said. “Pop the trunk so we can get our bags out.”

Hardly knowing what else to say or do, I walked around to the back of the car to get my bag. Parker opened the trunk.

“Good Lord!” he said when he saw all the bags inside.

He reached in at the same time that I reached in and we bumped heads.

“Sorry,” we said at the same time, each of us rubbing our respective heads.

“I just have the one little bag,” I said, pointing and reaching, but he was reaching too and somehow with us both grabbing it, the shirt fell out.

“Sorry,” he said again, quicker at grabbing it than I was.

It unfolded as he was lifting it out. Then he was staring at it, a grin forming over his face, before looking at me.

I snatched it from his fingers. “It was Jordan’s idea.”

His grin grew. “But you’re going to be the one wearing it. Are you too hot to handle?”

“You’ll never know.”

His grin faded and I bit my lower lip. Why had I said that? Why was I so touchy whenever he was around?

Because he belonged to Jordan, but didn’t act like it, and I belonged to Nick, but had a hard time remembering that whenever this guy was around.

“Sorry,” I mumbled again, but I don’t know if he heard me. He was too busy gathering up all of Jordan’s bags and carrying them to his car.

And now I was going to have to spend the evening fixing this guy supper?

Could life get any more complicated?