Page 28 of Positively Pricked

And why was I thinking about this?

In front of me, Paisley still hadn't moved. Either she was planning to bolt, or she was busy thinking up her next excuse.

I crossed my arms and waited.

With a loud sigh, Paisley finally turned around. "Actually, yes," she said. "Iamgoing someplace. And I'm in a hurry, so—"

"Great," I chirped. "If you wanna toss me the money, I'll grab it fast so you can be on your way."

She put on her confused face. "What money?"

As if she didn't know. "The rent money."

She frowned. "But I already told you, I'll get it to you on Wednesday."

"Uh-huh." I gave her a look. "Because you weresupposedlyout of town."

Her mouth tightened. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"I don't know," I said. "Areyou out of town?"

"Oh, so now you're making fun of me?"

Was I?Probably, a little. But seriously, she had it coming. "Listen," I said, "I don't want to be a nag, but the rent was due five days ago. And I can't keep paying your share on top of my own."

"What are you saying? That I'm a deadbeat?" Her voice rose. "I'vealwayspaid. You know that."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But you've never paid on time."

At this, she had the nerve to look insulted. "I have, too."

Now, it was my turn to sigh. "Fine. Other than the very first month, you've never paid on time."

"Oh, so you're keeping track? Is that it?"

"Of course I’m keeping track. I have to. The lease is in my name."

"So?"

"So if it's not paid,I'mthe one in trouble."

"Oh, please," she said. "You are not. You act like someone's gonna drag you off to jail or something." She rolled her eyes. "God, you are so dramatic."

My mouth fell open. "Me?I'mthe dramatic one?"

"Well, you don't seemegivingyoua hard time, do you?"

What the hell?"You don't think it's hard when you don’t pay your share of the rent?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Paisley hurled her tote-bag onto the floor. "Ihavepaid. Every single month. Do we seriously need to go through this?Again?"

I eyed her bag. It was open at the top, and I spotted a familiar-looking wine bottle nestled among her clothes.

I felt my gaze narrow. "Is that my wine?"

She looked down. "What do you mean?"

I pointed. "That bottle of cabernet. Is that the one I just bought?"