Page 45 of Spiral
God.
“I’ll take him to bed,” Danny interjects, gripping Jonah’s arms and guiding him towards the stairs.
A few minutes pass before Danny re-joins us in the living room, this time without the drunken idiot. We’re straightened up by now – Georgia’s hair brushed back into her effortless Rachel Green-esque blowout, me without a raging boner for all to see. She’s managed to open her notebook and ask me a few genuine interview questions, much to my disappointment.
All I want to do is kiss her.
26 | Georgia
IS IT A requirement to be a male model to live in this house?
I swear to God, every man in here right now looks like a teenage girl’s wet dream. Jonah is drunk as all get out, but his handsome looks are still mesmerizing. He’s not nearly as good looking as Henry, of course; but at 6’2, with caramel-tinted hair and deep brown eyes, you can’t help but feel a little nervous around him. His cheeks and jaw are chiseled, much like the rest of his body, which is effortlessly tanned and covered in numerous tattoos of all different styles. I haven’t really met Jonah before – only seen him in passing when I still lived next door. But I can tell why so many girls go feral over him, filling his house to the brim in sexy outfits the second he announces a party is being thrown.
Danny is sober, thank God, and adorable as always. He’s slightly shorter than the other two – about 6 foot or so – but still very fit. Henry tells me that Danny used to feel insecure that he didn’t play football like his roommates, but, apparently, he now focuses that energy into constantly working out in the gym. His overgrown, golden-blonde hair hangs across his forehead in defined curls; it’s styled, but in that effortlessly messy way. His teeth are perfectly white and straight, beaming through his dimpled, boyish smile.
This house must attract women like moths to a freaking flame.
I suddenly realize just how many girls have probably been pinned to this couch, like I was a few minutes ago.
Barf.
27 | Henry
“SO, HOW’S THE article coming along, G?” Danny asks, flopping down into the overstuffed armchair beside her.
“It’s going okay. I still have a lot of questions for Henry.”
“Dang. Must be a pretty long article.” He glances at me, smirking, with a devilish twinkle in his eye.
Danny knows how to play an innocent, sweet boy around women. They love him to death – like he’s a teddy bear. And, don’t get me wrong, he is a great guy, and an even better friend. But if they knew about Couchgate…
“So, what’s the wheel of punishment?” Georgia asks, her tone mischievous.
I groan, letting my face fall into my open hands.
“Punishment wheel,” Danny corrects, and points to the wall beside our staircase. A small Wheel of Fortune type game board is pinned there, its bright colors mocking me from across the room.
“Do tell,” Georgia purrs as she makes her way towards it, squinting to read the small print on the device.
“If any one of us breaks the house rules,” Danny begins, “he has to spin the punishment wheel. Whatever the wheel says, goes. And it looks like Henry’s due for a turn.”
He punches my arm jokingly as I approach them, a look of regret strewn across my face.
“What rule did he break?!” Georgia asks, incredulous.
Danny clears his throat. I glare at him, my eyes screaming “do not refer to Georgia as a fucking hookup.”
He takes the hint, thank God.
“No, um, no interviews on the couch,” he stutters, side-eyeing me for approval.
“That’s a weird rule–”
“I’ll spin it now,” I stammer out, desperate to change the subject.
But at what cost?
I size up the wheel in front of me and swallow hard. Jonah’s messy handwriting conveys a series of increasingly horrendous punishments, some of which I’m not even sure are legal.