Dropout (The Good Guys Book 3)

by Jamie Schlosser

Her nipples were hard, which probably meant she was either cold or turned on. And it wasn’t chilly in here. Grandma set her thermostat at a balmy 75 degrees, often keeping the windows cracked even though she had the air conditioning on.

  Knowing this girl could be feeling the same instant attraction I was made my dick twitch. Suddenly I was very grateful for the apron, because it was hiding the stiffy I was sporting.

  Mackenna huffed and started to turn away. “Well, this is awkward, and not what I had planned for today, so I’m just gonna go…”

  “Wait. You’re making me clean this up by myself?” I asked, stalling.

  I should’ve wanted her to leave. She was right—this was incredibly awkward. But my desire to keep talking to her outweighed the humiliation. I still didn’t know why she was here, and I wanted to find out.

  Facing away from me, she paused. “Could you at least put some clothes on? That apron is ridiculous.”

  “My wardrobe is out of commission at the moment, so this is all I’ve got,” I said. “Unless you want me to just take it off…?”

  “No.” She quickly shook her head, and I watched the long strands swish against her lower back. I didn’t get a chance to admire the way her jean shorts hugged her rounded ass because she turned around with a determined look on her face.

  “Do you really want me to stay?” she asked while boldly eyeing the apron, challenging me to say no.

  “Yes.” I didn’t hesitate.

  Pressing her lips together, she assessed the room then let out a resigned sigh. “Okay. I’ll sweep. You get mop duty.”

  Her bossy, business-like attitude made me grin. I thought about arguing—just to keep her around a little longer—but decided against it. Between my wandering eyes and forcing her to clean up my mess, I had already crossed over the threshold of rude.

  After grabbing the cleaning supplies from the closet, I handed her the broom and we got to work. As she swept the flour-covered pennies into a pile, I filled a bucket with hot water.

  She stayed focused on the mess, doing her best to ignore me.

  I didn’t like it.

  “What are you doing, letting yourself into my grandma’s house anyway?” I asked, needing to know if this was going to be a regular occurrence. Partly hoping it would be. “Are you in the habit of breaking and entering?”

  “Beverly told me I could come over anytime,” she said defensively, her eyebrows furrowed. “I like Sweet Pea.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  She still wouldn’t look at me. “I take care of him, clean out his cage and stuff. But if you have a problem with me coming over, then you can do it from now on.”

  “Oh, hell no. I want nothing to do with that bird. He’s evil.”

  She stopped sweeping to glare at me. “He is not.”

  “He’s an asshole,” I stated flatly.

  “Most parrots are assholes,” she shot back.

  We were only a few feet from each other, and now that she was looking at me I noticed the unique color of her eyes. They were the color of the ocean. Not clear and blue like the Caribbean.

  Stormy.

  Gray-blue on the outside and sandy brown around the iris.

  I couldn’t help feeling like I’d seen her somewhere before. “You look a little familiar. Have we met?”

  “No.” She bent down to gather the coins and dropped them into the coffee tin, each one falling in with a clank.

  I crouched next to her to help, reaching for a few strays that had rolled under the table. “What’s your last name?”

  “Connelly,” she said warily, and suddenly it clicked.

  “I saw you in the news a few years ago. Your story was all over social media. You were that guy’s girlfriend. What’s his name… Jason or something.”

  She glanced away with a pinched expression. “Jaxon.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I snapped my fingers. “Jaxon’s girlfriend.”

  Her head whipped back in my direction and her eyes blazed, that storm raging in their depths. “Don’t call me that. Never call me that.”

  “Whoa. Sorry.” I held up my hands, realizing I’d struck a nerve. I didn’t remember much about her, just that everyone within a 30-mile radius had been talking about the breakup that ended with the guy freaking out and going to prison.

  Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.

  “What can I call you then?” I grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “How about Mack?”

  “No.” The last penny made it back into the container.

  Both of us stood, and she reached around me to place it in its spot next to the sink. The kitchen was small, so she had to get closer to me. I could’ve moved back to make more room for her, but I didn’t. I stood my ground, letting her arm brush against my stomach.

  I thought she was going to leave, but instead she turned to gaze out the window over the sink. She was just a foot away from me now, and I stared at her profile. Those full pink lips stood out against her pale skin.

  “How long will you be here?” she asked quietly, curiously.

  “All summer,” I replied and something akin to dread flashed across her face, the corners of her mouth turning down.

  I was a little offended. She was the one who’d let herself into my grandma’s house, uninvited. We’d barely met, but I got the distinct feeling she didn’t like me much.

  “Well, Mack,” I taunted, deliberately using the nickname she didn’t want. Leaning in close enough to smell the clean scent of her shampoo, I whispered, “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

  She sucked in a breath and stepped away. I was sure she was about to run from the room, but she didn’t get the chance.

  Grandma came around the corner, her purse slung around her shoulder. “I’m back. Forgot my checkbook.” She glanced back and forth between Mackenna and me, then smiled wide. “Oh, good. You two have met.”

  “Barely,” I grumped, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the apron.

  Ernie was right behind Grandma, and his eyes widened under the shadow of his ballcap as he took in the condition of the room and my attire. Or lack thereof.

  “Jimmy was just telling me how much he loves Sweet Pea,” Mackenna piped up. “He said he wanted to clean his cage from now on, so I guess you won’t need me for that anymore.”

  Shocked at the blatant dishonesty, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Liar.”

  “James Peabody Johnson,” Grandma gasped, and even though Mackenna didn’t smile, I saw her lips twitch at the use of my full name. “You’ll be polite to our guest.”

  “Breaking in doesn’t really make her a guest, does it?”

  “Mackenna’s welcome here anytime. You’d best remember that,” Grandma said firmly.

  The gorgeous girl shoved the broom in my direction. I took it from her, making sure our fingers brushed. The hair on my arm stood up at the contact.

  Standing back, she put her hands on her hips, scowled at me one last time, then glanced at Grandma. “I need to get back home anyway. It was nice to see you, Beverly. You too, Ernie.”

  As she walked from the room, I could see white handprints from the flour on her waist. The sight of it was somewhat erotic, and I wished I’d been the one to put those prints there. I heard her whistle a goodbye to the parrot, then she was gone.

  “Well.” Ernie hitched his thumbs under the suspenders he always wore. “Gotta say, this entire situation is mighty uncomfortable. I’ll go wait in the car. Great to have you here for the summer, Jimmy!”

  Then it was just Grandma and me.

  “Well, that was embarrassing,” I said pointlessly.

  Shaking her head, Grandma clucked her tongue. “Goodness. I hope you and Mackenna can work out your differences by tomorrow.”

  “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Mackenna volunte
ered to paint my house. I thought you could lend a hand.”

  I grimaced. “I think she hates me.”

  Grandma shrugged. “Fix it. Unless you don’t want to help.”

  “No way in hell am I letting her do the work by herself.” I may have been a lot of things, but lazy wasn’t one of them. And, despite what the past few minutes might suggest, I wasn’t an asshole either.

  “Good answer,” she said with a nod, then her face softened in the way it did when she wasn’t joking around or cussing up a storm—which was hardly ever. “I mean it, Jimmy. Be nice to that girl. I think she needs friends. Poor thing hardly ever smiles.”

  Feeling a mix of emotions, I glanced out the window at the house next door. I searched the windows, hoping to get a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin, but I saw nothing but closed blinds.

  “She comes over to hang out with the shit machine?”

  “James!” Grandma scolded, then cracked a smile. “Yes. Mackenna loves that crap factory. That girl is an enigma. I’ve never known anyone so kind, yet so closed off at the same time. I’ve tried to get her to open up to me, but it’s been tough. And you know how likable I am!” Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air.

  Chuckling, I nodded. “It’s impossible not to like you.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “I’ll try to be nice,” I promised.

  “Good. Be the charmer I know you are. You’ve got something in your hair.” She gestured toward my head, then looked at the flour still covering a good portion of the kitchen. “I don’t think baking is your thing. Hopefully you’re better at painting.” Walking out of the room, she called over her shoulder, “And by the way, you look good in peach.”

  Then I was alone again with no lunch, one hell of a mess, and a dick that was still slightly perked up from meeting her.

  Mackenna.

  I wasn’t proud of myself. I’d just been a complete jerk to the hottest girl I had ever seen.

  Initially, the reason for that was mostly because I was mortified, but there was something about pushing her buttons that turned me on. Her attitude was defensive, aloof, and almost dismissive. And it might’ve been childish but I wanted her attention, even if it was because I made her mad.

  An already-interesting summer just got a lot more intriguing.

  Grabbing the mop, I went back to cleaning the disaster in the kitchen and promised myself I’d make peace with Mackenna tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 6

  MACKENNA

  Early morning sunlight filtered through the bathroom window as pulled my hair into a messy bun. Guilt weighed on me when I thought about the way I’d snapped at Beverly’s grandson the day before. He had every right to be upset with me for walking in on him like that.

  It was his house, after all. Well, at least for the time being.

  On my way out of Beverly’s yesterday, I looked at the family picture on the wall. A much younger Jimmy sat next to a blond-haired boy in front of a Christmas tree. When she told me about her grandkids, I’d assumed that picture was recent.

  It wasn’t.

  The last thing I expected to see in that kitchen was a solid wall of muscle, tanned skin, and tattoos.

  He caught me off-guard and I reacted badly, especially when he brought up Jaxon—the one thing no one could seem to forget. Apparently, three years didn’t make much of a difference in this small corner of the world. Jimmy wasn’t even from this area, but he remembered.

  It wasn’t just that, though… I’d been shocked by the way my body responded to the sight of those tattoos. The freaking nipple piercings. Inky black hair and green eyes.

  Along with his cocky attitude, it was a lethal combination. Exactly the kind of thing that drove women nuts.

  I hadn’t felt true physical attraction in years, and never with that intensity. If I was being honest, that was what caught me off-guard the most.

  I shouldn’t be attracted to a guy like Jimmy.

  He had bad news written all over him, and last time I got with a bad boy, it ended horribly to say the very least.

  I didn’t need temptation or distraction. One thing I certainly didn’t want was heartbreak. I had a feeling Jimmy could be the trifecta of all the things I should avoid.

  As far as I was concerned, he was completely off-limits. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t be civil toward him. Jimmy and I would need to get along if we were going to be temporary neighbors.

  Or maybe I could just stay locked away in my house for a couple months.

  But what about the ice cream sandwiches?

  There was delivery for that sort of thing, right? Shaking my head, I laughed at how ridiculous I was being.

  Surely, Jimmy had better things to do than hang around this sleepy town all the time. Convincing myself I probably wouldn’t see him very often, I made the resolve to be nicer next time I ran into him.

  After putting on raggedy gray shorts and an old white tank top, I went outside and made my way to Beverly’s backyard.

  My footsteps faltered at the sight in front of me.

  Jimmy was there, shirtless and sweating from exertion as he spread a coat of the most obnoxious shade of green I had ever seen onto the white brick exterior of the house.

  I don’t know why I assumed I’d be painting alone. When Beverly mentioned the project, I offered to help, but that was before I knew about her new roommate.

  Of course Jimmy would be helping. He was a strong, able-bodied man.

  For a few seconds, I considered backing out. Occasionally running into Jimmy was one thing. Being forced to work together for days?

  I wanted no part of that.

  I could just say I wasn’t feeling well and spend the rest of the day spying on him from my window. But I’d never been one to flake on my commitments. I just needed to suck it up.

  Forcing my feet forward, I took the opportunity to study his body while he was unaware of my presence.

  His black gym shorts hung low on his hips, and I could see the gray waistband of his briefs. The muscles of his back and arms flexed as he used the roller, going up and down in long, steady strokes. The angel wings on his back had something written within the feathers, but I wasn’t close enough to see what it said.

  I was so focused on finding out I didn’t see the garden hose in the grass, and the toe of my flip-flop got caught on it.

  Nearly stumbling to the ground, I used every core muscle I didn’t even know I had to keep from falling. Arms flailed ungracefully. Hands flapped through the air. My feet did some sort of weird dance as I struggled to stay upright.

  Jimmy must have heard my scuffle because he turned just in time to see me straightening my shoulders, trying to play it off like I didn’t just almost bite the dust in front of the hottest guy ever.

  “Hey, Mack. Thought you weren’t gonna show up.” He smirked. “Thought maybe you changed your mind.”

  “It’s Mackenna,” I corrected haughtily, smoothing some loose hairs away from my face. The guilt I’d been feeling earlier was replaced with unwelcome sexual attraction and a bit of irritation. “And it’s only 8:30. I didn’t realize you wanted to get started at the ass crack of dawn.”

  “Your dear friend, Tweety Poo, woke me up at 5:00 this morning with his ungodly screeching,” he said. “Figured I might as well make good use of the time.”

  “I’m not a morning person,” I grumbled.

  “That makes two of us.” Jimmy laughed, and my heart did some sort of weird fluttery thing. Then he put down the roller and held out both of his fists. “Hey, pick a hand.”

  The sun glinted off his nipple piercings, and the temptation to gawk at them was almost too much. I kept my eyes trained on his face as I pointed at his left fist. When he turned it over and opened his hand, there was nothing there.

  “Wrong,” he said before opening the right hand. A
Hershey kiss sat in the middle of his palm. I stared at it, not sure what his intentions were. He extended it my way, and I reared back a little when he invaded my personal space. “For you. A peace offering.”

  “Oh.” Surprised by the random act of kindness, I picked it up, my eyes flitting from the silver-covered chocolate to Jimmy’s face. “Thank you.”

  Unwrapping the candy, I popped it into my mouth. The chocolate melted on my tongue and my mood lifted.

  Maybe Jimmy wasn’t so bad after all.

  I sent him a grateful look and picked up my paint brush. Starting with the trim around the windows, I purposely chose a spot several feet away and we worked in silence for a while.

  My phone pinged with a text, and I smiled when I saw who it was from.

  Krista: Mom said you’re coming over this weekend!

  Me: That’s the plan

  Krista: Why not today?

  I almost laughed at her impatience. I could imagine her doing the puppy-dog eyes she had down to a science.

  Me: I’m painting my neighbor’s house and trying to ignore her irritating grandson

  Krista: Painting and babysitting duty? Rough deal

  Me: Not quite. He’s an adult

  Krista: Is he hot??

  I rolled my eyes. At fifteen years old, she was boy-crazy and too cute for her own good.

  I snuck a peek at Jimmy, who seemed to be busy concentrating on his section of the house. Trying to be very discreet, I snapped a picture with my phone, then sent it to my sister.

  Krista: Holy shit!! Please tell me you’re getting some

  Me: Don’t say shit. And no one is getting anything from anyone

  Krista: Boo. You’re no fun. Mom and Dad won’t even let me date yet

  Me: Good. Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?

  Krista: I am. It’s so close to the end of the year that the teachers don’t even care. Mr. Dennison is asleep

  A picture came through with the caption “Seriously”, and I couldn’t hold back the amused snort. The history teacher looked exactly how I remembered him. Bushy gray mustache and thick-rimmed glasses. His bald head was tilted back in his desk chair, his eyes closed and mouth open.