Viola: No, he’s hell-bent on ruining my life.
Courtney: Well, the offer still stands. Could book a flight and be here by tomorrow!
I wish.
Viola: I can’t. I already promised Drew and Mia I’d go to Lake Tahoe this weekend.
Courtney: Did you really have to mention that bitch’s name?
I chuckle, anticipating that exact reaction. She’s had a crush on Drew since the first day she met him, four years ago. Drew’s a good-looking guy, a police officer, but he’s clueless to how he affects girls. Unlike Travis, he doesn’t think he’s God’s gift to the women population.
Viola: LOL, sorry.
Courtney: I want to hear about all the juicy details when I get back!
Viola: Trust me, there’ll be no details to give.
Courtney: I highly doubt that. Mwah!
I sigh and roll my eyes. Courtney always knows how to brighten my mood, even if it’s at her expense. I click back to my messages and read over Jason’s.
Jason: Any chance you’d be interested in joining me for a Battle of the Bands Wednesday night? I promise it’s not as lame as it sounds.
I’m a little surprised he’s asking me out again. I figured Travis would’ve scared him off, and if it wasn’t for the way he looked at me as if he wanted to eat me for dessert, I’d be giddy as fuck for his invitation. But Jason doesn’t make me feel anything. There’s no spark. However, it’d get me out of the house for the night and give me more ammunition against Travis.
Since I’m not in the business of using guys and leading them on, I tell Jason the truth. If I’m going to get back at Travis for his stunt with my vibrator, it might as well be testing his jealousy limitations.
Viola: I’d love to go! But I have to tell you it’d just be as friends. You cool with that?
Even if he does agree to just be friends, Travis doesn’t have to know that. In fact, I think I’ll even make a trip to the mall beforehand for some essentials.
Jason: Honestly, I’m glad you mentioned that. I was thinking the same thing, so I’m glad we’re on the same page. You’re a cool chick to hang with, and if I can avoid Drew’s foot in my ass, I’d rather take that route.
I let out a nervous giggle and send him back a smiley emoji.
Jason: Pick you up around seven.
Viola: Sounds good! See you then.
“Fucking piece of shit!” Travis’s deep roar makes me jump, and for a split second, I forgot he was here. “The hell you work this thing?” His fingers are furiously stabbing the keyboard.
“You mean it’s not doing exactly what you say even after you sweet-talked it?”
“Not now, Viola.” His shoulders tense.
“Ooh, Viola. You must mean business,” I mock, ignoring his harsh tone.
He glares at me, not at all impressed with my backtalk. I turn back to my Kindle, ready to ignore him once again. But then he surprises me and grabs my attention in a much softer, helpless tone.
“Any chance you know the common restrictive regulations for advertising in the European market?
“I might,” I say, not even looking up from my book.
“Do you think you could maybe help me out before I smash my fist through the screen?”
“You mean to tell me you actually don’t know something?” I ask, smug. “But I thought you knew everything?”
“Do you always have to be a sarcastic know-it-all?”
“Well, I don’t have to be, but I think it adds to my appeal.” I smile, gloating.
I finally look over at him and see a disheveled Travis. He looks more tired than usual, maybe even mentally exhausted. Hell, it’s only day three of this two-week roommate arrangement, and I’m mentally exhausted from whatever it is we have going on. The back and forth, the tormenting one another, the emotional exhaustion that comes with hating him one moment and wanting his hands all over me the next.
I clear my throat to distract myself from those thoughts. Showing any signs of vulnerability around him would only make things worse. He’d use it in any way possible to get back at me.
“All right, smartass. So, can you help me or not?” His tone isn’t as harsh, but I can see he’s frustrated.
Hmm…a little frustration and groveling might be good for him. “Well, I could…” I linger, not quite ready to give in.
He exhales roughly, tightening his grip on the armrest. “Will you?” His features tighten and his jaw locks, frustration written all over him. I almost feel bad for messing with him. Almost.
“What’s in it for me?” I ask, using the opportunity to gain some of the household power back.
“Um…how about a roof over your head? A fridge filled with food? A bed to sleep in?”
“You mean, half of those things. Drew pays the rent, too. And face it, you’d still be paying for those things even if I wasn’t here, so your argument is invalid.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, whatever. What do you want?”
I turn slightly, facing him. I need him to know I’m serious. “I help you with whatever project you’re working on, and you have to abide by all the house rules. No exceptions.”
His head falls back against the chair cushion, and I can tell he’s rolling his eyes at me. “So, you basically want me to be a monk in my own damn house?”
“Just while I’m here…” I correct. “The moment I leave, throw a naked kegger for all I care.”
He snorts, his face finally loosening up a bit. “All right. If that’s what it’s going to take, then fine.”
“Wow, look at us!” I beam, plastering on a wide, fake smile. “Compromising like an old divorced couple.” Or at least making some progress at making this work the rest of the time I’m here.
However, I have a feeling this weekend isn’t going to be so accommodating.
Chapter 14
Travis
Viola may be a smartass, but she knows her stuff. I study her mouth as she talks about the articles of the European Community Treaty in detail. She notices me staring and stops.
“What?” Her eyes narrow, and I flash a little smirk and shake my head.
“The main point of this is not to have misleading advertising. It’s not like the American market where we can basically insinuate someone’s boobs will grow or they’ll lose a hundred pounds in a week. Or you’ll get chicks if you drink Bud Light. It’s stricter. We do have the Federal Trade Commission, but the European treaty is that on steroids,” she continues and then stops abruptly. “Are you even listening?”
“You have no idea.” My lips tilt up, hanging on her every word.
She fidgets under my gaze. “Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. Your rules. Aren’t they a bit ridiculous?”