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“Why are we even talking about this?” She smiles and reaches up to cup his beard-stubbled cheek. “We both know the only place you’re taking me is Benny’s,” she says, her expression turning set and stubborn. “For pancakes. And I don’t snore.”
“You are a pain in my ass,” he tells her, fighting a grin. “Seriously, I can’t even deal with how much of a pain you are. And yes, you do.”
Tess narrows her eyes at him, the hand on his cheek reaching up to grab his ear to give it a jerk. “Just for that, you’re buying me pancakes and a side of bacon.”
“Don’t,” he says, widening his eyes at her, tucking his ear into his shoulder. “You almost pulled it off last time.” Finally noticing me and Sara standing over them, Con gives up, sighing as he stands with Tess still in his arms. “I’ll throw in a hot chocolate if you take tomorrow off.”
I sneak a look at Alisha, worried that Con and Tess’s antics might be making her uncomfortable but she’s not even paying attention. She’s standing next to Sara like she’s ready to leave, still fucking around with her phone like we’re not even here. Like she couldn’t give a shit that Con had her bent over the bathroom sink less than fifteen minutes ago and here he is with another chick in his lap. Granted, that chick is Tess. But still.
From the doorway, Declan clears his throat. He’s got it propped open with his foot, his message clear. Get the fuck out. He looks annoyed with the lot of us and it reminds me of when we were kids. He’s only two years older than us but he’s always been surly as fuck. He can usually handle the sexual innuendo that is 99% of their usual banter. What he can’t handle is watching Tess and Conner take care of each other. He never could.
Tess shoots Declan a look that seems to pass right through him before focusing on her negotiations with Con. “Pancakes, bacon, hot chocolate and pie. And I’ll come in at noon.”
“Alright—noon.” He grins at her. “That’s probably for the best,” he says, heading for the door, still carrying her. “You gotta come in and feed your cats, anyway. All forty-three of them.”
“I hate you,” she sighs, winding her tattooed arms from around his neck. “You’re the biggest bastard I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Well now, we both know that’s not true.” Conner laughs, throwing his brother a look on his way out the door. “Later, bro.”
Ouch.
Once we’re all standing on the sidewalk, Declan shoves his key in the lock and gives it a twist. “Goodnight,” he says to no one in particular before heading toward the parking lot on the side of the building.
“You sure that’s a no on the pancakes?” I call after him and smile when he flips me the middle finger. Things will still be tender between us tomorrow but the worst is behind us.
A car pulls up to the curb in front of us and a guy who looks like my eighth-grade math teacher gets out. “Someone call an Uber?”
“Yeah,” Alisha pipes up, finally shoving her phone in her purse. “I’m heading to that party in Allston, you want to come?” she says. Allston is another college town a few miles from here.
Sara looks at me for a second before shaking her head. “No, I’m gonna stay here.”
“Suit yourself,” Alisha shrugs, opening the door to her getaway car. “Call me,” she says to Con who makes a non-committal sound while giving her an awkward wave. She’ll never hear from him again and they both know it.
Alisha and her Uber pull away while Con, Tess and Sara make their way down the sidewalk. They get about fifty feet ahead before Sara stops and turns back to look at me. “Are you coming?”
The last thing I need is to do is buy Sara breakfast because that’s just going to give her hope when there is none.
But it’s 1AM and Cari still isn’t home. Regardless of what I need, the last thing in the world I want is to lay in bed and listen for her key to hit the door. Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do to her when it finally does.
“Yup,” I say and jog to catch up.
Thirty-six
Cari
It’s 3AM and I’msneaking into my apartment like I missed curfew. I’m trying to be a considerate roommate. That’s what I tell myself. That Patrick has a game in the morning and making noise when he has to wake up in a few hours would be rude. I’m sneaking around like a rebellious teenager because I’m a good person. Not because I feel guilty about staying out so late.
I shouldn’t have bothered. I know he’s awake and in the living room the moment I shut the door. Knowing that he’s sitting on the couch, a prime seat from which to watch what he thinks is my walk of shame, waiting for me like a disapproving older brother, makes me angry. Like he has the right to criticize anything I say or do.
Sighing, I cross the living room, toward my room. The hall light is on, the soft glow of it splashed across the floor, casting the couch in shadows. I can’t see him but it doesn’t matter. I know he’s there. “I didn’t mean to keep you up,” I say into the dark, tossing my clutch onto the coffee table between us. “I lost track of time.”
He doesn’t answer me but I think he laughs. I can hear the quiet push of it, disturbing the air between us. He’s as angry and confused as I am. I need to remember that. I need to go to bed and not make things worse. I need to ignore the fact that right now, there’s no such thing as worse when it comes to me and Patrick.
“Good night, Patrick,” I say, my high heels clicking across the hardwood floor.
“You could’ve just asked me, you know,” he says from the dark, stopping me cold. “I would’ve been glad to show you.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about but it doesn’t matter. It’s not his words that affect me. It’s his voice. The deep hum of it shoots through me, down my spine to seat itself between my legs. I think listening to Patrick read the phone book would make me wet.