Full Package(6)
I slash my hand through the air. “Fuck no. Not in the history of the world.”
“Plus, you like my cooking, and I like your ability to not hog the bathroom mirror for a full hour when you dry your hair and do your makeup.”
I gesture to my face. “In and out in under five. All-natural beauty here.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “The other great thing is we’ll each have our space. Since I work early we wouldn’t be on top of each other every second.”
My dick stirs, not because I’m horny for her, but hello? The image of her sweet, sexy body on top of me is legally required to induce an erection. If it didn’t, I’d need to be tested for ED.
“We’d only be on top of each other a few seconds a day,” I fire back, because that was too good to resist. Then, to sell myself more, because this is the golden ticket for both of us, I add, “I’m also amazingly good at reaching objects on tall shelves, opening champagne bottles, taking out the trash, and any other manly tasks you want to throw my way. Not to mention sewing up wounds and restarting hearts.”
She taps a finger to her lips. “Manly tasks can be helpful. Plus, I have at least two dozen unopened champagne bottles crying out for your attention.”
I pump a fist. “Does that mean you’ll take that roommate ad down? Like, now?”
She grabs her phone and removes the ad. Like that, we take the aspirin to fix the problem, and we don’t even need to call the doctor in the morning.
3
From the pages of Josie’s Recipe Book
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Josie’s Swedish Fish Rolls
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Ingredients
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1 tablespoon butter 12 marshmallows
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(But please, use the gelatin-free kind, because gelatin = gross. And as my friend Spencer says, beef candy is not a thing.)
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2 cups puffed rice cereal 4 Fruit Roll-Ups Swedish Fish
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(The number of Swedish Fish is up to you. My rule of thumb is as many Swedish Fish as you need for the recipe, allowing for the fact that you will eat them as you make the sushi because Swedish Fish are delish.)
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Directions
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1. Melt butter in a medium saucepan over low heat and add marshmallows. Stir marshmallows until completely melted.
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Speaking of melted, that’s not at all how I feel around Chase Summers, no matter how good-looking he is. I swear that man does not melt me. He does, however, entertain me, and that’s one of the many reasons I suggested we move in together. Living with Chase will be like having HBO on all day. Except, you know, minus the nudity. Unless I peek at him in the shower. And I’m totally not going to do that.
* * *
2. Add cereal and coat thoroughly.
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3. Roll out the fruit roll-ups. Place 1/4 of the coated cereal onto each fruit roll-up and spread across.
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4. Place a line of fish on the coated cereal.
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5. Roll up the fruit roll-up with the crispy treat and the fish inside. Gently. Sushi candy needs a subtle, sensual touch.
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6. Place a sharp knife into a bowl of very warm water. Slice. Serve.
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7. Share with a friend.
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Optional step: Pat self on back for having the most excellent idea of sharing an apartment with a good friend who makes you laugh and helps your business. We are such a great fit.
4
Josie and I walk across town like two conquering generals who joined forces on the battlefield of New York real estate. Now we put the carnage behind us as we lay down the law of our new future.
Since she and Natalie took over a month-to-month lease from Charlotte when she moved out, we’ll be paying some dude named Mr. Barnes. He owns the place, and Charlotte paved the way to transfer her lease when she left. Don’t let anyone tell you New York real estate isn’t about luck and who you know.
“I don’t have a lot of rules, but I’ll be frank. I don’t like dirty socks, so please don’t be a slob,” Josie tells me as her sandals click on the sidewalk en route to her place in Murray Hill. Her short little skirt shows off her bare legs, toned from the soccer rec league she plays in. Even though I’m not checking out her legs. Her strong, shapely legs.
I scoff. “I’m basically the neatest guy around.”
She gives me a side-eyed stare. “And you’re straight?”
I hold up my hands. “Woman, straight men can be clean. Do not stereotype.”
She laughs and elbows my side as we stroll east. “I’m teasing. I know both things about you. Your straightness and your cleanliness, Doctor McHottie,” she says as we pass a flower shop. The nickname nearly halts me in my tracks, but before I can ask why she called me that, and if she does really think of me that way, she’s moved on to a new topic. “As for music, noise, TV, and all that jazz, all I ask is we be respectful of each other. I do wake up early to open the bakery, and I need a solid seven hours of sleep or I’m a total witch.”