Your roomie is being a dick. Want to go to dinner and bitch about him?
Gemma:
To be clear, are you asking me to dinner to actually bitch about Rook, or do you just want to take me to dinner? There are right answers on this test.
Spencer:
I definitely just want to take you out.
Gemma:
A+
Spencer:
Knox said you're off-limits (reference above-mentioned dick moment), so if that's going to cause a problem, then we can hold off.
Gemma:
Sorry, wait… he told you on MY BEHALF that I'm off limits??
Spencer:
That's what he said.
Gemma:
Apparently, we need to bring Rook into the 21st century. How does Friday dinner sound?
Spencer:
Sounds like a date.
Iput off calling the animal rescue.
For one thing, I reasoned, Pumpkin had been through an enormous upheaval over the weekend. First, she'd been taken from her home—probably even her mother—on Friday, and then she'd been dumped into the ungrateful arms of a surfer bro. Then, she'd been foisted on me, threatened with eviction, and inspected by a dog the size of a small rhinoceros. She had been through enough without immediately taking her to someone else.
For another thing, I totally had this lamb thing handled. After Rook had been oddly willing to take on a few night feedings, it really wasn't bad to keep up with Pumpkin's needs. And if she was okay, and I was okay, then what was the rush?
By Wednesday, I'd already had her fully worked into my routine, and once I realized that Pumpkin was old enough to eat the alfalfa I picked up from a feed store, I didn't need to wake up at night to feed her. Sure, the living room smelled like… hay. And Rook had a peeved expression on his face every time he came home, but he didn'tsayanything about Pumpkin still being there.
When I came out of my room the following Friday morning, I found him actually holding the lamb under one arm while he stared out the window and sipped his coffee with the other hand.
As I shuffled out of the bedroom and took in the sight of burly, straight-faced Knox cradling a baby sheep under his arm, I rolled my lips between my teeth and fought a smile. He had a sheen of sweat glistening on his exposed biceps from his morning workout, and the dim kitchen lights slashed geometric shadows across his toned body. I could admire that sight for hours, but Mini had ideas of her own, and she slipped across the hardwood, skittering and falling all over herself in her attempt to join Knox and Pumpkin.
Knox glanced my way, mug poised halfway to his mouth and expression unreadable. "Good morning." Mini stopped a whisker from colliding with his legs, but Knox didn't even flinch, he was so used to her spastic antics. Pumpkin stretched her neck, peering down at Mini with silent interest.
I folded my arms over my crop top, smiling. "Morning. How's our baby fluff ball?"
One of Knox's eyes squinted. "What do you mean, 'our?'"
"Did I say our?" I came to join him, stroking Pumpkin's head affectionately. "Freudian slip."
"We're not keeping it."
I glanced up at him through my lashes. "Who saidwewere?"
A flicker of amusement lightened his features. "I'm onto you, Gem. Don't even think about it."
