No Interest in Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

assistant, Danielle, at this number to set something up. Can’t wait to meet him.” Carletta makes a wet kiss noise, then the message clicks off.
    I slowly roll over, squinting through the darkness to try to catch Shay’s face in the light of her phone. She has one eyebrow cocked so high it disappears into the shadows and an expectant grin on her face.
    I shake my head. “You’re shitting me.”
    “No. Let’s get you on that flight, yeah?”
    My hands fumble for the clothes she tossed at me. “All right. I’m definitely up.”
    3:25 A.M.
    The rain pounds against the windshield, and Shay hits the wipers up another notch. I double-check my seat belt.
    “The rest of this trip is on the company dime, right? Because I just spent my last four bucks on this.” I raise my coffee cup, then adjust my seat so I can kick my feet up on the dash. The second I put them there, Shay bats at them with the hand holding her very potent onion bagel.
    “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she says around her food. I keep my feet on the dash, despite Shay’s abuse. If I’m being honest, I like teasing the hell out of her. Because even when she’s swatting at me, there’s a hint of a smile that creases the corner of her lips. And when I glance over at her eyeing my shoes, there it is, pulling her mouth upward ever so slightly. Enough to make her look like she actually has fun in her very scheduled life.
    I drain the last bit of my coffee, but the caffeine’s doing shit to keep my eyes open. I lean back against the seat and zone out until it kicks in.
    S HAY, S CENE T WO :
Setting:
also freshman year
. She walked into my film studies class, and I choked out a laugh, scaring my buddy Alec out of the snooze he’d fallen into. She took a seat in the front row and pulled out her laptop and jabbed a pen into her ponytail. Like a douche, I leaned down and said, “You gonna take off that flip-flop and beat me with it, Elmo Girl?”
    She whipped around with a death glare, which got even more evil when she recognized me. Then she slipped her flip-flop off slowly from her dainty foot…and whacked me over the head with it.
    That was the first time I saw that suppressed grin.
    Shay growls something under her breath, pulling me from my in-and-out sleep. The rain hasn’t let up, and when I stretch out my limbs, I check the time.
    “Shit, it’s only been a half hour?” This will be the longest drive of my life.
    “Californians don’t know how to drive in this kind of weather,” she says, and because I was sort of dreaming about her smacking me with her shoe, I flinch when she bends to scratch her ankle. “This is like a light summer rain in New York.”
    I laugh as I look at the window, not seeing anything past the waterfall streaming down the glass.
    “You’re probably driving
with
the storm and not
out
of it,” I say, kicking my fallen feet back up on the dash. She sighs, reaches over, and pulls on my pant leg to get me to put them back down. Grinning at her, I finally relent, adjusting the seat back instead to stretch my legs. “Hey, so while I was at the pool, a Jason Sterne fan wanted me to sign her boob.”
    The car jerks a bit to the right, but Shay regains control and swats me.
    “Don’t joke around. I have to concentrate.”
    “I’m not joking. One lucky boob has my John Hancock. And a lucky arm, since I signed her husband’s skin too.” Travis said if I become a big name that’ll be his tat. I really hope not, since my writing looks like a three-year-old’s. But not gonna lie, that sent unrealistic fantasies of big jobs, movie posters, giant premiere parties, and lots—
lots
—of women replaying over and over in my head while I slept in that hotel bed. Probably explains the pleasure dreams.
    “How old was she?”
    “Huh?”
    “The woman attached to the boob you signed?”
    “Oh, I dunno. Early twenties maybe.”
    Shay nods, brings her pinkie to her mouth, and chews on the nail.
    “Why?” I ask.
    “Learning your