Page 8 of Home Brewed (The Perfect Cup #1)

“My parents are real conservative and about lost their minds when I brought home my first girlfriend.” That startles me, and it must have shown on my face because she quickly continues.

“I’m bi and they didn’t understand it, didn’t really try to.

I was eighteen at the time, and they said if I wanted to live ‘an alternative lifestyle’ then I could move out.

So, I did. We see each other at family gatherings and holidays now, but that’s sort of it.

I’m still close with my brother, James. He travels a lot for work, though.

He’s in Winnipeg right now, touring with his band.

We try to see each other as often as possible.

With him gone so much, it can be hard.” She pauses for a moment to sip, and I think to collect herself as well.

“I think he’s truly incapable of pursuing something that isn’t music related.

My parents keep trying to ask when he’s going to settle down, join the family business, and give them grandbabies, and he’ll just go off about where his band is touring next.

” She chuckles, swigging back the rest of her glass.

Her eyes have gone shiny, and she’s starting to slur her words, which explains the rambling.

It does make me feel better that both of our families suck.

“To shitty families!” I decree, putting my half-full glass in the air towards her. She looks in her glass to find it empty and promptly picks up the bottle and clinks it against my glass.

“And terrible men!” she adds. We both laugh a little and then it falls silent. As much fun as it is to find camaraderie through it, it still sucks to think about my family, the void that’s left where my loved ones should be. Maybe I should look at moving, getting a fresh start somewhere.

The more I sit around thinking about it, the more I realize how completely isolated I’ve been for the last two years.

I can feel a heavy knot forming in my chest as despair takes over.

What do I even have? A job that I hate? A new friend who I recently caught screwing the guy who I thought would maybe be the love of my life?

“Maybe men aren’t for you,” she says, grinning over at me mischievously.

“You mean, like, I should look at becoming a nun?” I don’t understand why she looks so smug.

“No! Maybe you’re attracted to women, and you haven’t figured it out yet, you should try!”

“Try what?”

“Women! I am right here, I’m pretty, you’re drunk, it’s the perfect combination!” her smile is so wide and wild that I start cackling.

“Nessa, I think you’ve cracked!”

“No, no! For real, maybe it’s not only Justin that sucks!

Maybe it’s just all men!” Before I can answer, she’s wrapped her hand around the back of my head and brought her lips to mine.

Never one to knock it before I’ve tried it, I give in and kiss her back for a moment, placing one hand on her arm as I lean towards her.

Her lips are soft, her skin warm, and when we pull apart, I’m staring deeply into her eyes. I can see the moment her face screws up, which I’m sure is a mirror of my own.

“Technique was like, seven out of ten, and I believe we can conclude that you are very, very, very straight,” she announces, sipping back more wine.

“How can you tell I’m straight from one ki-… wait, only seven out of ten? What did I do wrong?” Nessa throws her head back and laughs, nearly tipping herself over, and even though I’m a little outraged about my low scoring, I laugh along with her.

“Straightness is something you’re born with, nothing to be ashamed of, love,” she winks at me. “And if you want a more thorough evaluation…”

“Nope! I’m good, let’s stick with straight and see if I can’t find a handsome man to practise that technique with,” My face must be bright red because Nessa bursts into another round of cackling.

I feel the pit in my stomach grow at the thought of rejoining the dating pool, something no amount of laughter was going to get rid of tonight.

I am one hundred percent not about to bring up my almost kiss with Beck…

or allow myself to dwell on it too much.

It’s not something that is ever really going to develop anyway, and he was my ex’s boss.

As though she can sense my thoughts heading in a dark direction, Nessa takes the glass of wine out of my hands.

“We should order Chinese!” she declares to the ceiling.

“Most restaurants are probably closed now. Besides, I don’t have any dishes,” I say, grimacing when the memory of smashing everything comes rushing back.

“How in the crap do you not have dishes? You are like, the most put together adult I’ve ever met. Adulting seems like your form of meditation, no offence. ”

“Well, I did walk in on you screwing my long-term partner and now I’m drinking with you right in the spot I recently rage-smashed all those dishes, so that’s not exactly a glowing endorsement.”

“Details!” she cries out, continuing on without waiting for a response, “Anyway, we need to get you some dishes and maybe some plants or something because, honestly, your little empty apartment of singleness is making me sad.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. It’s making me sad, too.” I stare off towards the bedroom where there is a bed frame and mattress I still need to get rid of. Justin’s boxes are all stashed there, too, so I don’t have to look at them while I sleep in the living room. “We could always go to IKEA?”

“Oh my god, yes! I am so down for an IKEA trip! Why don’t I stay the night, and we can go first thing tomorrow morning!

” She looks so overjoyed, and maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I find myself agreeing.

Looking over to see it’s already nearly midnight somehow, I clear the rest of our snacks off the floor and grab some untainted blankets from the hall closet.

“I haven’t been staying in the bedroom after everything. You can sleep in there if you don’t want to go home tonight. I promise not to murder you in your sleep.” I offer. Nessa’s face immediately falls.

“You haven’t been able to stay in the room?

” She looks stricken as she crosses the living room to me and wraps me in an enormous bear hug.

“I am so, so sorry that I had a hand in that. I know you’re not blaming me or anything, but I still feel bad that I ever made you uncomfortable in your own home.

I promise to be your little personal assistant tomorrow and we will make sure that this place becomes your home again.

” She places a kiss on my cheek and takes the blankets from my arms. “We sleeping on the couch?” she asks, walking over to it and starting to put together the makeshift bed.

“Um, I am. I’m not sure there’s room for two. Or you can have it if you want?” I’m not sleeping well anyway, may as well be on the floor.

“Nonsense! We are besties now, we can snuggle for one night,” she says cheerily, lifting up the blanket for me to crawl in, “but you have to be the big spoon.” I am in no mood to argue with her this late, and the idea of not having to sleep by myself doesn’t exactly suck.

I crawl under the blankets, and Nessa immediately scoots up in front of me, taking my arm and wrapping it around her.

The coconut smell of her shampoo fills my nose, and within minutes, I can hear her gentle snoring.

I settle down under the blanket, my new best friend acting as a human teddy bear, and I close my eyes, finally allowing the sleepiness of my tipsy brain to win.

Maybe things won’t suck as bad tomorrow.