One for the Road (Barflies Book 3)

by Katia Rose

  I hurry away to the kitchen so he won’t see my face, which is burning like he slipped chillies into my sandwich.

  I won’t ruin this.

  The past two days have been perfect. We talk, we laugh, we do friend things. I’m not going throw it all away by jumping in his lap. Maybe with someone else, but not with Zach.

  I already met with the girl from Roxanne’s work. It will be hard to watch someone live out my dream of going to Cheveluxe every day, but other than that, she’s an awesome girl, and we got along well. I’m signing the lease papers tomorrow. In four more days, Paige will be back, and I’ll find some other couches to crash on until I get the apartment.

  I am not going to screw this up in four days.

  Eight

  Zach

  SQUEEZE: a wedge of fruit served with a drink, meant to be squeezed over the beverage

  “Bye, Dopey Hopey.”

  My sister grimaces at my use of her childhood nickname and gives me the finger. I give a cheery wave to the screen of my phone, where we’re wrapping up one of our regular video calls.

  “I was going to tell you how excited I am to visit in a few weeks, but now I’m just going to tell you you’re an asshole.”

  “Love you too, Hope.”

  Her face softens a fraction. “Love you too, big bro.”

  We end the call, and I set my phone down on my desk, still grinning. No matter what’s going on in my life, chatting with Hope always gets me on the right foot, and tonight she gave me the perfect pep talk for the workathon I have planned.

  I pull my chair in closer to my closet-office and jot out a to-do list. For the first time all week, I have six hours of uninterrupted working time ahead of me. All the extra shifts I’ve been covering at the bar have sent me into red alert territory with my business. I know I have the option of just saying no, but I never seem to do it. They call, and I’m there. Hell, I’ve barely even contributed to any meme groups this week, and I take those things as seriously as my actual jobs.

  Tonight, however, I know for a fact they have more staff than they need at the bar, so there is absolutely nothing that should be able to pull me away from my laptop.

  I can hear DeeDee washing up our dinner dishes in the kitchen. She’s heading out to bond with her roommate-to-be later tonight, but she still insisted on cleaning up. I catch the sound of her singing that Selena Gomez song she likes so much over the noise of the water. Her accent is extra adorable when she sings. She’s probably dancing around the sink with a sponge in her hand. I give myself a moment to picture it, smiling at my laptop screen like an idiot before finally opening up all the programs I’ll need.

  Strangely enough, it’s easier to focus on my work when DeeDee’s here than when she’s not. The sounds of her cooking, or watching TV, or even just the knowledge that she’s dozing off in Paige’s room makes something settle in me. Having her here feels right, like a shifting scale reaching a perfectly poised balance.

  Her enthusiasm for my business is as encouraging as it is adorable. She wants to know everything. Every time I think I’m boring her and try to stop with the ecommerce talk, she begs me to go on. She keeps telling me she’s going to buy a dozen giant pool floaties the second her next paycheque comes in.

  I wheel myself in closer to my laptop and put the pedal to the metal. I’ve been working for close to half an hour when I take a break to stretch my hands. I’ve just pushed my chair away from my desk when a huge crash comes from somewhere out in the apartment.

  Followed by a scream.

  I’m out of my bedroom in nanoseconds.

  “DeeDee!”

  I scan the living room and see Paige’s door is open. I fly across the apartment and burst into the room only to find it empty. That’s when I hear the shower running.

  “DeeDee!” I pound on the bathroom door as soon as I reach it, but there’s no answer on the other side. I can hear music blasting over the sound of the water running. “DeeDee, I’m coming in!”

  I don’t know what I expected to find when I opened the door, but it was not what appears to be DeeDee tangled up in the shower curtain. The whole rod has been ripped down. DeeDee is partially covered by the white fabric where she’s bent over on all fours over the edge of the tub, her bottom half still in the bath and her hands braced on the bathroom floor.

  At least I think that’s where her hands are. Her whole upper body is covered by the curtain. What’s not covered are her legs—or her ass.

  I’ve only got a side view, but even that has me pausing mid-step into the bathroom, every question and offer of help dying on my lips as I take in the sight of that perfect, perfect curve.

  “Zach? Is that you?”

  I think I make a sound, but I’m not sure.

  “Hello? Zach?”

  She starts shuffling around, trying to free herself. All it does is make the curtain slip father forward.

  This time I’m sure I groan.

  “Uh, yeah. Hi. It’s me. What, uh—What are you doing?”

  Hi? Did I really just say ‘hi’ to her?

  She huffs from under the curtain. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  I scan my brain and don’t come up with anything.

  “Uh, to be honest, DeeDee, you’ve got me there.”

  The combination of the water and music is so loud we’re both shouting to be heard. I shake my head a few times before finding the motor skills to reach for DeeDee’s phone on the counter. I press the pause button before moving close enough to shut the shower off.

  “Ah, merci. WAIT!” She shrieks so loud I literally jump. “Don’t look at my butt!”

  Of course, that makes my eyes drop straight to her butt, and I can see a whole lot more of it from here.

  “You’re not looking at my butt, are you?”

  With all the willpower I contain, I raise my eyes to the ceiling and step away. “Nope. Not looking at your butt.”

  “Good.” She lets out a resigned sigh. “So, I fell over.”

  “What is it with people and falling over in this apartment lately?”

  The curtain rustles. I think she’s trying to shrug. “Well, I have an excuse. I was dancing, and I slipped.”

  She was dancing. In my shower. Naked. Like she is now.

  Rein it in there, Hastings. Focus on the task at hand.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so, but I am stuck.”

  Lord, have mercy.

  “Um, all right. How about I hold the curtain rod up so you can actually escape, and you try to manoeuvre out of the tub?”

  The curtain rustles again.

  “DeeDee?”

  “Ah, ouais. I nodded.”

  “All right.” The bathroom is so small I have to sit on the lid of the toilet to get into the right position. “Ready when you are.”

  “WAIT!”

  She’s going to give me a heart attack if she keeps the screaming up.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m naked!”

  “Right.” Like I could forget. “I’ll grab the rod and then close my eyes.”

  There are way too many puns about rod grabbing I could use here. I push the thoughts aside and lift the cheap plastic thing I bought when Paige and I first moved in, since the place didn’t even come with a curtain rod. Then I close my eyes.

  If heaven is real, I’m earning my place there today. I don’t peak at DeeDee at all during the whole time it takes her to get up. I don’t even try to catch a glimpse through slitted eyes. I listen to all the rustling and huffing and squeaking, and I do my best not to imagine all the wiggling and crawling and crouching that’s going along with it.

  “Et voilà!” she finally exclaims.

  I open my eyes.

  She screams again.

  “I’m still naked!”

  But I can’t look away. Not this time. Not when she’s standing there with her wet hair plastered to her shoulders and chest, the strands moulded to the curves of her breasts. She’s wr
apped a towel around her waist. The water droplets trailing down her stomach catch the bathroom light just like the blue gemstone in her belly button ring.

  That damn belly button ring.

  It’s not like I haven’t seen it before; her crop tops always put it on display, but right now it feels like my whole world has shrunk down to her skin and that tiny piece of metal. I want to trace its outline with my tongue. Every perfect inch of her is so close all I’d have to do is reach out my hand and pull her to me.

  “Zach—”

  Her mouth hangs open like she had more to say, but she freezes, and her breath catches when her eyes lock with mine. Both our chests heave.

  There’s something dangerous in the air, some flammable chemical just waiting for a match to fall. I can almost hear the tension, a sharp whine whose pitch gets higher and higher the longer we stare. My heart is trying to beat itself out of my chest, reaching for her since my hands don’t seem to be able to.

  I want you.

  The rhythm that pounds through my veins booms out those words.

  I want you. I want you. I want you.

  Then her phone buzzes with a text, and my eyes dart towards it. In that split second, whatever force had its hold around us slips, and once again, I feel it: like we were standing on the edge of a moment, a circle of light from a streetlamp we toed the line of and refused to step inside.

  DeeDee turns away and shimmies her towel up higher, pausing to throw me a mocking look over her shoulder before she leaves the room. “It’s like you’ve never seen boobs before, dude.”

  Dude.

  One of the most intense moments of desire I’ve ever experienced in my life just occurred, and she called me dude.

  I hear her close the door to Paige’s room, but I stay perched on the toilet lid for a long, long time. It takes a while to get my heart under control. Every time I think I’ve slowed my breathing and returned from the brink of cardiac arrest, I’ll picture her belly button ring, or the outline of her nipples hidden under that pink hair, and things rev back to life.

  Two more days.

  Two more days until Paige gets home and DeeDee heads wherever she’s going next. She told me she’s got it covered, and I didn’t press for details. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine her leaving. She hasn’t even been here a week, and I don’t remember what living here without her was like.

  There were probably less broken shower curtains.

  It takes me a few tries to get the rod back in place. By the time I emerge, DeeDee’s all dressed to go: crop top on, jean jacket thrown over her shoulder, and her still-damp hair done up in two little buns on top of her head. She wears it at work like that a lot. It’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. I stand there staring at her as something burns hot in my chest.

  She looks up from where she’s digging through her purse in the living room, staring at me with the wide, round eyes of a deer in headlights. I watch her swallow as the air between us crackles again.

  She has to feel this. She has to.

  “See ya later!” She breezes right past me without slowing down. “Don’t wait up!”

  Then the door is swinging shut behind her.

  Hurricane DeeDee strikes again.

  Work is futile after that—so futile that when Lisanne texts me to say her first official management shift at the bar is going to shit and three of the staff didn’t show up, I don’t even stop to consider the consequences to my business or how much I should say no before I’m slamming my laptop shut and grabbing my wallet and phone.

  Nine

  Zach

  ON THE ROCKS: a drink poured over ice cubes

  The chaos I walked into at the bar is all but over by midnight. The servers were fine as soon as they had an experienced employee leading them, and Lisanne assured me they’d be fine for the close when she told me to punch out.

  I dig my phone out of my backpack after pulling my jacket on in the kitchen. I switch it off airplane mode, and a few texts pop up. The first two are from DeeDee, sent around 7PM.

  Roomie couldn’t hang out very long. I’m almost home. You need anything at the store?

  I got you chocolate, but I might eat it before you get home.

  The third one is from Paige, sent at a quarter to eight.

  Forgot to let you know my weekend set got cancelled. Coming home early. Should be there in fifteen minutes.

  Oh.

  Oh shit.

  Just knocking on Paige’s door scares me. The idea of what she’d do upon finding a random stranger hanging out in her bedroom is beyond terrifying. I was planning on keeping DeeDee’s residency a solemn secret from Paige I’d take with me to the grave.

  It’s been four hours since she was supposed to get home. That’s plenty of time to hide a body.

  I jog all the way to my building, running through possible outcomes in my mind. I’ve never actually seen Paige get mad. I’ve just seen her look like she could get mad, and that’s bad enough.

  I make it up to the apartment, panting for breath from bounding all the way up several flights of stairs, and pause to dig out my keys. That’s when I hear the booming bass beats of the kind of music Paige plays at her shows. The volume is loud enough that I’m sure we’ll have neighbours complaining any minute now, but above the noise, I can just make out the sound of—

  It almost sounds like laughing.

  Oh god, I knew she was probably murderous, but what if she’s full-on sadistic?

  I get the door open and burst into the living room to find a sight even more unexpected and incomprehensible than DeeDee wrapped up in the shower curtain.

  They’re dancing.

  Beer bottles and chocolate bar wrappers are strewn across the coffee table. There’s a scarf thrown over the shade of the floor lamp to cast the room in a deep blue glow, and there, right in front of me, Paige and DeeDee are busting a move. Paige is smiling.

  DeeDee spots me out of the corner of her eye but doesn’t say anything until she finishes doing what I think is an advanced form of twerking.

  “Zachy Zach! Where’d you go?”

  That gets Paige’s attention, and she immediately goes stock-still as a look of pure mortification comes over her, like this hit to her stone-cold reputation is the most embarrassing thing in the world. Two seconds later, she’s sitting on the couch with her arms crossed in the sleeves of her ever-present giant hoodie, typical stoicism back in place.

  “Uh...I was at work?” My brain is still trying to figure out if this is actually happening.

  Paige reaches for her phone, and the volume of the speaker set up on the coffee table lowers until it’s just background noise.

  “Paige came home,” DeeDee informs me in a statement of the obvious. “She’s really not as scary as you think.”

  “Hey. Let’s not be hasty.” Paige turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “So, I hear you let DeeDee sleep in my room?”

  Okay, this is the moment where she murders us.

  “Paige, I’m really sorry,” I admit. “I should have asked. I really crossed some roommate lines here, and you deserved more respect from me.”

  Whether she’s going to kill me or not, I mean that.

  She shrugs. “It’s no big deal. DeeDee told me about what happened. I’m glad you gave her somewhere to stay. You’re a good dude, farm boy.” One of her blink-and-you’ll-miss-it half-smiles appears. “Plus, DeeDee is pretty fucking cool.”

  “Yeah I am!” She plops down on the couch next to Paige and reaches to tug the scarf off the lamp so I can see them both in better light. “Look at Paige’s hair!”

  At first I don’t notice anything other than the fact that it seems to be wet, but then she shifts her position, clearly uncomfortable with the scrutiny, and I notice the subtle purple hue of the shiny black strands.

  “You dyed Paige’s hair?”

  “Ouais! Isn’t it génial? It’s only semi-permanent. I was thinking of doing a purple ombre a few months ago, so I had it with all my stuff
. It’s perfect for Paige! I have never seen hair like this before.” DeeDee lifts a plum-tinged lock up and rubs it between her fingers. “It is so soft, but also...also...Ben, I don’t know the word in English, but Paige thinks it’s because her mom is from Vietnam and her dad is from...?”

  “Puerto Rico,” Paige mumbles.

  DeeDee looks back up at me. “Did you know Paige speaks four languages?”

  I can’t help the bemused smile that spreads over my face. They’ve been in this apartment together for less than five hours, and DeeDee has already convinced my iron wall of a roommate to divulge personal information, dye her hair purple, and dance unashamedly on the living room carpet.

  DeeDee Beausoleil is an unstoppable force.

  “I did not know that,” I admit, shaking my head.

  “We ate your chocolate,” Paige informs me. “Figured you deserved it, given the whole unexpected guest thing, but we saved you some beer.”

  “How gracious.”

  It sounds like an invitation to hang out, so I decide to just take every unexpected turn of the evening in stride. DeeDee doesn’t seem to be having any trouble acting like the entire shower incident didn’t happen, and I’m not about to announce, ‘I can’t hang out with you guys because I think about seeing DeeDee naked and dripping wet every time I look at her.’

  I grab one of the folding chairs we keep up against the wall for the rare occasions when we have too many guests to fit on the couch. Things get a little easier after I’m halfway through my beer. DeeDee keeps up a constant stream of chatter, coaxing Paige into sharing a few details about her trip to Toronto and making us both laugh so hard at her commentary that we’re in danger of spitting out beer.

  There’s something magic about this girl. There’s no other word for it. She wiggles her fingers, and the whole world walks her way.

  Everyone who sets eyes on her sees it, but that’s the thing; I don’t want the girl everyone else sees. If these days with her have made me more sure of anything, it’s that. There’s something deeper to DeeDee, maybe even something darker, and I want it. I want every piece of her: the good and the bad, the ugly and beautiful. I don’t want hints and half-moments. I want to grab on with both hands.