Page 51 of The Defender

“No. The only coffee-related activity I’m cut out for is drinking it.” Carina sighed while Scarlett and I released small, simultaneous exhales of relief. “I’ll find something, but thanks for looking out. Sorry I’m such a buzzkill tonight.”

“You’re not being a buzzkill. I’d much rather be here with you guys than at some shitty bar with overpriced drinks,” I said.

“Exactly.” Scarlett stretched her arms over her head. “Besides, if we went out, we wouldn’t be able to watch Carina butcher her calligraphy in—ah!” She squeaked with surprise when Carina crumpled a sheet of paper and tossed it at her. It hit her right on the nose.

“That’s not funny,” Carina said through a glimmer of laughter. “My cursive isn’t the best, but it’s legible.”

Scarlett lobbed the paper ball back at her. This time, it got stuck in Carina’s hair. “Your Ns look like Rs.”

“Those letters naturally look alike!”

“Then how do you explain your Ts and Js?” I jabbed a finger at the thank-you card.

Carina’s eyes narrowed. “Et tu, Brute?”

“I’m just telling the truth. Don’t kill the messenger.”

The three of us stared at each other. There was a moment of contemplation before we dove for the table at the same time, and our night exploded into a full-blown paper ball fight.

“My Ts. Donot. Look like Js!” Carina punctuated her words with surprisingly accurate lobs.

Forget Etsy. She should pitch for Major League Baseball.

“Yes, they do!”

“That’s slander!”

“It’s only slander if it’s not true!”

“Brooklyn, look behind you!”

I squealed and ran behind the couch, my stomach cramping with laughter. My hair was weighed down with what felt like a dozen pieces of paper, and I ducked right as a particularly large projectile went sailing over my head. Our screams and laughter filled the flat.

Thank God Vincent wasn’t here to see us acting like a bunch of children on a Monday night.

Honestly, even if he were, I wouldn’t care. I needed this. I’d been slammed with work, and I was stuck on the ISNA application, which was due in a month. A silly night in with my friends was just what the doctor ordered.

Our “fight” lasted until we ran out of paper. Our laughter gradually subsided, and we collapsed onto the couch in a happy, tired heap.

“Where’s Vincent?” Scarlett asked after we caught our breath. “Don’t tell me you killed him already.”

I snorted. “No. He went out to help Adil with holiday shopping or something.” It was only mid-November, but Adil was notoriously enthusiastic when it came to buying gifts. “Living with him hasn’t been so bad. At least he’s clean and does his chores.”

That was the upside. The downside was the number of times we inadvertently saw each other half-naked around the house.

Vincent’s sculpted abs flashed through my mind. Heat prickled my neck, and I firmly shoved the image aside.

“See? Iknewit would work out!” Carina grinned.

“Mmhmm.” I avoided their eyes and plucked a stray paper ball out from between the couch cushions.

I hadn’t told them about my bet with Vincent yet. I felt bad about lying to them, but I was nervous about how Scarlett would take it. Sure, she was the one who’d suggested he move in, but I didn’t think she expected us to be anything other than platonic.

She also didn’t seem like the type who’d freak out if we kissed, but I couldn’t risk it. I valued her friendship too much.

I probably should’ve thought of that before agreeing to the bet.That was what my impulsiveness got me. Constantly trapped in sticky situations.

As for Carina, I didn’t want to tell her and make it so we werebothkeeping this secret from Scarlett. It was better for me to shoulder this alone.