Josh and Hazel's Guide to Not Dating(16)

“We’re homeless, guys.”

Winnie looks at me like I’m being melodramatic, so I call Emily for sympathy.

“Flooded?” she repeats. “Seriously?”

I feel my lip wobble and the wobble spreads to my chin and then I’m crying into the phone, babbling about all the ruined art projects and carpet and my favorite blue espadrilles and how I’m not going to live with my bird and bunny for the next few weeks and I liked that apartment because it was sunny and my neighbor baked cakes a lot so it always smelled good and—

“Hazel, shut up,” Emily yells into the phone. “I’m trying to tell you. I think you can stay at Josh’s.”

I sniffle. “If Josh is anything like you about laundry and vacuuming, he would murder me in my sleep.”

“He’s going to be in L.A. for a couple weeks.”

I pause. So he booked the ticket, then. I’m both happy for Josh and sad. I want someone better for him than Tabitha, even though I barely know him and I’ve never met her.

“Let me add him in real quick.” Emily disappears before I can protest, and when she comes back, she makes sure we’re each on the line.

“I’m here.” Josh sounds tired and bored, and I can’t tell if it’s his usual lackadaisical manner or he’s upset … or both.

“So, Hazel’s apartment flooded,” Emily begins.

Josh sounds significantly more alert when he says, “Wait, seriously? While we were out just now?”

“You two were out just now?” Emily asks.

I ignore the strident interest in her voice and explain, “A pipe burst, and normally I’d be making lots of terrible sex jokes about that, but really, it just sucks.” I fidget with my car keys in the ignition. “I’ll be out for at least three weeks.”

Emily hops in: “Josh, I was thinking she could crash at your place until she finds somewhere to stay longer term. You’ll be gone and there’s plenty of space. She’ll even keep the tornado confined to the guest room.”

“I will?” I wonder whether Emily really believes this.

“No pets,” Josh says immediately.

“Winnie?” I counter. “I can pay you rent.”

“Is she housebroken?”

I press a hand to my chest, genuinely offended. “I beg your pardon, sir, my canine has impeccable manners.”

Josh laughs dryly. “Okay, sure.”

“Really?” I dance happily in my seat. “Josh, you are the best.”

“Whatever.”

His tone makes my heart wilt a little. “You sound so sad, best friend.”

“I’m your best friend,” Emily reminds me.

I can’t help the giddy lean to my words. “It’s been my plan all along to have you two fighting for my love.”

Josh sighs. “I’m hanging up now. I’m at work, and leave for L.A. at seven. Emily will give you her spare keys.”

“You doing okay?” I ask.

“Wait,” Emily says. “Why wouldn’t he be okay?”

I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “He was having some intestinal distress earlier.”

Josh groans across the line. “I’m fine.” He pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is a little gentler. “Call me if you, you know, need anything, Hazel.”

My heart squeezes so tight. “Thanks, Josh.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but I hear when he disconnects from the call.

Emily falls completely silent.

“Hello?”

She clears her throat. “I’m still here.”

“So, can I swing by for the keys? That’s so insanely nice of him, I can’t—”

“What is going on with you and Josh?”

I make a frantic time-out gesture, but Emily can’t see it. “Nothing, gah. Josh and I aren’t romantic, like at all. I just really, really, really like him. He’s like a Hazel magnet. I love his dry humor and sarcasm and that he seems to get me. I think we’re just becoming really good friends and it makes me really happy.”

“Really?” she says, and I start to answer before realizing that she’s making fun of my tendency to be superlative.

“Really,” I say. “Seriously. There is zero attraction there.”

Emily snorts. “Okay.”





SIX


JOSH


Two days, two flights, more drama than a drunken night in a freshman dorm, and here I am: back home again. So of course my door won’t open.

Jiggling the key free, I kneel down until I’m level with the lock. I replaced both of the doorknobs when I refinished the front and back porches only a year ago, and can’t think of a single reason why the front door would be jammed.

Unless, I think, leaning in to get a closer look, someone tried to pry it open.

Hazel.

I straighten, looking down at my watch as I debate what to do. This day has been nothing but a nightmare, and even though I know I should go to my sister’s place and sleep on the couch, the only thing I want right now is to take my clothes off and climb into my own bed. It’s after two a.m., which means Hazel is most likely inside and asleep in the guest room, so there’s no harm in letting myself in and explaining it all in the morning, right?