by Emma Hart
“What?”
“Women are the worst,” I repeated, grabbing my seatbelt and buckling in before I looked at her. “We’re hard to live with, hard to understand, and even harder to get along with. We like to pretend that we support each other, but the fact is, most of us would sooner bitch about another woman and drag her down.”
“That’s some deep talk before a family dinner, Shelbs.”
“It’s true. And men aren’t exactly great. We all have our faults. We could all do better as human beings.”
“Great. You’ve gone from best friend to philosopher. Are you sure you write fiction and not those phony self-help books that are full of quotes pulled from random memes on the internet?”
“I don’t spend any time on the internet,” I said, staring out of the window.
“Liar. Last week, you told me you were writing, then when I checked in with you, you were taking a quiz on Buzzfeed to find out which Disney Princess you were.”
I opened my mouth and closed it a couple times before my response came. “We all need a break when we work. I like to take stupid quizzes on the internet. You can’t judge me.”
“Oh, I can judge you, and I am.” He laughed, hitting the stick so his blinker came on. “It’s why I work with people. I like to judge them.”
“I know. I’ve seen you watch Big Brother. You judge every single person on their walk into the house before you’ve even seen a real episode.”
“Shelbs, if you go on reality television, you’re literally inviting people to judge the fuck out of you. Kind of like when you’re in deadline mode and open the door in last week’s tank top, two-day-old sweats with a coffee stain on, no shoes, and pizza sauce around your mouth.” He paused, changing gears. “And that’s before anyone looks at your lack of washed hair.”
“Look, personal hygiene isn’t always a thing when I’m finishing books, okay? The voices can be loud. Kind of like a room full of toddlers.”
“All right, but it wouldn’t kill you to use a wet-wipe now and then.”
I leaned over the cab and hit him in the arm. “You’re a jerk.”
“I know.” He grinned, totally unbothered by my lame-ass punch. “It’s why you love me.”
I choked on my own spit, only just managing to wave him off by grabbing the bottle of water from the center console and rasping, “Dry throat.”
He shrugged it off. “But seriously, Shelbs, the shower is your friend.”
“And the vacuum is yours,” I shot back, wiping the corner of my mouth. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t even looked at it, much less plugged it in.”
“Oh, but Shelbs—”
“You do it so I don’t have to!” I said before he could.
I met his eyes and burst into laughter along with him. He was insufferable, but he was right, so… Who was I to argue with him?
I did do it. He really didn’t have to. I needed to change that. Make a schedule for something. “Maybe we really do need a schedule for chores. Like making you do the vacuuming and sink cleaning once in a while.”
“I don’t know,” Jay said slowly, pulling onto the streets where his parents lived. “A schedule? Would it work around work? Eh…”
“Stop trying to get out of it. It’s the one thing we haven’t properly addressed since the roommate agreement.”
“Chores? A schedule? I’m going to tell you the same thing I told you the first time you mentioned this. We’re not five, Shelby. I would think a pair of adults could figure it out.” He parked behind his parents’ cars, blocking them into the driveway.
I slid my gaze his way. “I just showed you the closet in the hall this week. Have you ever gone into it and used any of it to clean?”
“No, but—”
“That’s why we need a cleaning schedule.” I gave him a pointed look before I opened my door and jumped out. He did the same, and I said, “It’ll make it easier to live with each other. Besides, I might be more apt to share my food with you if I didn’t have to clean your man hair out of the sink.”
“All right, but I’m not touching the drain in the bath. That’s all on you, Rapunzel.” He bopped me on the top of my bun, causing me to glare at him. “Fair is fair.”
I rolled my eyes as he knocked twice on the door and pushed it open. “I never said I wouldn’t do it. We did put it in the roommate agreement, you know, and it was my addition, not yours.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just reminding you.” His grin was playful. “It also means you’re responsible for cleaning hair off the glass door of the shower.”
“Cute. Mr. Can’t-Work-The-Vacuum is making cleaning demands.”
“I bet I could work the vacuum if I tried.”
“Then try,” I said dryly.
“At least he’s doing his own laundry,” another voice called from the kitchen. Betsy. She appeared in the doorway, grinning widely, her blue eyes sparkling with laughter. “I bet he used that internet thing to figure it out, though.”
“Grams,” Jay groaned.
“He didn’t,” I replied, walking over and kissing her on her powdered, wrinkly cheek. “He couldn’t even turn it on until I talked him through it. Never mind that he forgot detergent.”
Her drawn-on eyebrows shot up, and she looked around me at him. “You forgot detergent? What’s wrong with you, boy? You’re soft!”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself laughing.
“I didn’t think!” Jay protested. “Honestly, I knew this was a bad idea. I should have left when Shelby got out of the truck.”
I rolled my eyes as the sound of his dad laughing filled the air.
“Shut up!” Jay shouted, sliding past me and his grandmother, but it only made his dad laugh harder. “The crap I get from the women in my life is bad enough without you adding to it!”
“That’s why you’re still single!” his dad shouted back.
I grinned. “No, his poor housekeeping skills and lack of ability to be a functioning adult is why he’s single.”
Jay shot me a look. “When did you last wash your hair?”
“Washing my hair doesn’t make me an adult. Using a vacuum cleaner and knowing which spray cleans the sink does. Spoiler alert: it’s the one that says kitchen cleaner on the bottle.”
“How did I know they were all different? They all look the same!”
Betsy sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you went so wrong, Jay.” She dipped her head and winked at me. “Is it your father? Did I do a bad job with him? Lord knows it’s not your mother. She’s a delight.”
“Who’s a delight?” Georgina, Jay’s mom, walked in with a wide smile and pulled me into a one-arm hug.
“We were just debating how Jay grew up to be such a bad adult and how much of a delight you are.” I grinned, keeping my eyes on Jay. He narrowed his at me.
“Oh, well, in that case, carry on.” Georgina squeezed me one last time and walked over to Jay, kissing his cheek. “Hello, darlin’. How was your date last night?”
“Jay had a date?” Betsy questioned. “Poor girl.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing.
Jay side-eyed his grandmother as she stirred spaghetti in a big pot on the stove. “It went well, Mom.”
Georgina pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge. “Are you seeing her again?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” Jay repeated.
“Why not?” His mom quirked one eyebrow as she poured three glasses out. “You just said it went well.”
He sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “It did go well, but I don’t see it going anywhere. She was nice enough, but yeah.”
“Probably too nice to put up with your crap,” Betsy said brightly.
“I cleared four perfectly safe snakes from your yard today and put up three shelves.”
“Yes, and you had to be guilted into visiting me in the first place.” She sniffed.
Jay
looked at me. “Remind me again why I came?”
I shrugged, taking the glass Georgina handed to me. “You made me come. Don’t look at me like that.”
“You came because your mother said so,” his dad shouted from the living room.
Jay muttered under this breath. None of us caught what he’d said, but that didn’t stop Betsy jabbing her spoon at him through the air for his insolence.
The back door nudged itself open, and Alice announced herself with a tiny yip that made me grit my teeth. The Yorkshire Terrier and I had a tempestuous relationship, mostly because her so-called barking made me cringe, like nails on a chalkboard, and the damn creature knew about it.
The tiny dog trotted through the kitchen, stopping right in front of me. She looked up at me with big, black eyes before turning her back to me and trotting off into the living room.
I watched her as she went until the sound of Betsy chuckling pulled me back into the kitchen. “What?”
“You’ll get along one day,” she said, dipping a teaspoon into the spaghetti sauce to taste it.
“I doubt that,” Jay said, stepping up behind her and peering over her shoulder. “She barely gets along with herself.”
“Remember who sleeps in the room next to you, jackass,” I shot back. “I’m also a writer. I could kill you and dispose of your body, and nobody would ever know.”
“Ah, but if you did that, you’d never know the pleasure we’ll get on his wedding day when we post the picture of him using a submarine as a pseudo-penis in the bathtub.” Georgina grinned, her green eyes sparkling the same way Jay’s did whenever he teased me.
Jay groaned, slumping against the counter. “Can we not?”
“Oh, but you were so cute!” she cooed, using her wine glass to hide her smile.
I sipped my wine to stop myself from smiling. Oh yeah. This was why I loved family dinner at the Cooper’s.
It was the one night in my schedule where I didn’t have to be the sole troll designed at getting under Jay’s skin.
It was the best.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN – JAY
The Liquor Cupboard Should Always Be Stocked
Tipsy Shelby was a fucking hoot.
Let that be noted. She was a total party after three glasses of wine, but tonight she’d had four. After the disaster that was Grams bringing out the old photo albums after dinner, Shelby had finally had enough wine to tip her over the edge of the stress she’d been holding tight in her shoulders the last few days.
Now, sadly, it was my job to get her into the elevator and into bed.
And I was stone-cold sober.
She was currently giggling in the passenger seat while looking at her phone. It could have been anything from cats jumping onto other items of furniture to people falling over or even the general news. She needed this downtime. She worked so hard for so little, so much for other people that I didn’t begrudge her this giggly time at all.
She’d be fine when she woke up tomorrow.
Still, I had to get her out of this truck.
I pulled up into my usual parking space and glanced over at her. She was still giggling, and she typed as she did so. I frowned at her for a second before I got out of the truck and walked around to her side.
“All right, you, come here.” I held out both of my hands for her to grab so she could jump down from the cab. “Let’s go.”
Shelby looked up from her phone, her eyes wide and ever-so-slightly glazed. “Are we at home?”
“We’re home, Chardonnay-girl,” I replied, gripping her wrists and guiding her down from the truck. “And you need to write tomorrow, so it’s time for bed.”
She jumped down from the truck, her flats silently hitting the sidewalk. “Really? It’s bedtime?”
“Sure is. Mom and Grams opened a bottle too many tonight, huh?” I wrapped one arm around her body and held her against me, ignoring the way she seemed to slot against me like she was made for me.
“No, shush.” She held one finger against her lips and burst into giggles. “I can walk, I promise. I’m not as drunk as Grams. I can handle an elevator.”
I seriously doubted that. It took a hell of a lot to get my grandmother drunk, and she was nowhere near this tipsy when we left. “Well, just in case.”
I selected the key on the ring with one hand and put in the code for the building, hauling Shelby in with me. She almost tripped on the tiny step inside, but she grabbed hold of my shirt, fisting the material, and giggled again.
I shook my head, wrapping my arm around her a little tighter, and pressed the button on the elevator.
Shelby hiccupped.
My family was a terrible influence on her.
“Water and aspirin when we get upstairs, okay?” I looked down at her.
She looked up at me with her brown eyes widening. “I’m not that drunk, Jay.”
“You’ll still thank me in the morning. I’ll even make you breakfast.”
“As long as it’s not bacon,” she muttered. “It’s not normally possible, but you made bacon taste bad.”
I rolled my eyes and guided her into the elevator. I wasn’t going to argue with her on that—bacon was, for some reason, my nemesis in the kitchen—and I just didn’t want to argue with her.
Arguing with her, in general, meant I would lose, and since alcohol made her more stubborn than usual…
Let’s just say I wanted to do it as much as I wanted Wolverine to give me a prostate exam.
“You were a cute baby,” Shelby whispered, cupping her hand over her mouth like we were in public. “Even when you used submarines as a penis.”
“I didn’t use submarines as a penis,” I replied. “I happened to be holding it in that position when Mom took the photo.”
“It’s going on the wall at your wedding.”
“I’m never getting married.”
She groaned. “Birthdays, then. I’ll send them to the email of your future girlfriends. I will find a way!” She punched the air, almost sending herself toppling over.
“Not that drunk, my ass,” I said, pulling her back before she could stumble through the now-open doors and fall flat on her face.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled, once again gripping my t-shirt. “Got a bit excited.”
“You’re insane.”
“No, I’m not. It’s not my fault there are voices.” She tapped the side of their head. “They’re loud. One of them wants to have sex.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Oh. That’s my voice.” She snorted then clapped her hand over her mouth to hide it.
My eyebrows shot up, and I stopped outside the front door to look down at her. “Your voice is the one who wants to have sex?”
Her cheeks flushed, and she refused to meet my eyes. “No comment.”
I stared at her for a moment longer before I let her go to put the key into the lock. It clicked when I turned it, and I pushed the door wide open so I could easily help Shelby through.
“I got it.” She waved her hand in my direction and used the doorframe to get inside. I shook my head, following her and shutting the door behind us. I paused to lock it, turning just in time to grab Shelby and reroute her to the kitchen.
“Water and aspirin,” I reminded her. “I’m not going to listen to you complain about a hangover tomorrow just because you had a little too much wine with my mother. By now, you should really know better.”
“Pish.” She gripped the counter as she opened the fridge. “Your mom is fun. Especially when we get out the baby pictures.”
“I’m going to call your mom and have her send me your baby photos.”
“Go ahead. She probably lost them.” Shelby looked over her shoulder at me. “You know what she’s like. She can’t even remember my birthday most years without setting herself a reminder.”
Well, that was true. She was the ditsiest person I knew.
I pulled the aspirin from the cupboard and tapped two out of the bottle for her. I set them down on the wooden
cutting board and got two for myself, then took hers over to her. She was frowning at the water bottle, and I grinned when I realized what she was doing.
I put down the pills again and took it from her, easily untwisting the cap.
Now, she frowned at me. “How did you do that?”
“I twisted it the right way.”
“Ohhh.” She tilted her head to the side. So much so that she almost fell over.
“Okay. Drink this and take the aspirin. You’ve had enough injuries for one day.” I handed her back the bottle and shoved two of the pills at her.
She did as she was told, taking them from me. She tossed them into her mouth and washed them down before setting the bottle down. “Thank you. You’re such a good friend. Even if the voices in my head want to have sex with you.”
My eyebrows shot up as she sent me a dreamy smile. “All right. It’s time for you to go to bed.”
“Are you coming with me?” She giggled, clutching the water.
I rounded the island and gripped her upper arms to direct her to her room. She was clearly drunker than she was letting on, but that was what happened when you drank three glasses of wine before you ate dinner.
“Jay’s taking me to bed.” She giggled more, but this time, it was all interspersed with hiccups. “Oh, dear.”
Oh, dear, was about right. That was exactly how I felt right about now.
“Here we are.” I pushed open her bedroom door. It was so much tidier than mine was. I had clothes strewn across the floor where I’d tossed them into my laundry basket and missed, but there wasn’t as much as a trailing cable on hers. Her desk didn’t even have an empty glass on it, and there was already a coaster on the nightstand. Even her damn trash can was empty.
It was amazing how two such different people were such good friends.
“Can you get yourself changed?”
Shelby turned, eyes widening, and looked at me. “You want to undress me?”
Yes.
“No,” I replied. “But I don’t want you hurting yourself again if I leave you alone.”
“Ummm.” She looked around the room. “I think I’ll be okay.” She gave me a small smile.
“You sure?”
