Amy sighed and put down her book. Jake had taken the extra blankets from the closet, folded up the quilt off the bed, and made himself a sleeping bag on the floor. He was so damn private, too, and uptight as all hell. He’d locked himself in the bathroom to change his shirt before going to dinner. Now he was in there again, putting on something to wear to bed. She’d changed into a pair of shortie pjs and sat propped up in bed. Too bad they couldn’t get internet connection. She had her laptop but hadn’t been able to play on it for days, and she was having severe withdrawal symptoms. Between no email, no telephone in the cabin, and a monosyllabic roommate, she figured she might go mad by the weekend. There was no television either, but at least she had a book. On the desk in the corner were several game sets. Pictionary, Scrabble, and a few she didn’t recognize. The door to the bathroom opened, and she grabbed her book, turning to a random page. “I’m going to sit out…on the deck,”
