The Roommate Agreement(4)

“And that’s the problem.” I waved three fries at her. “He thinks he’s being respectful, but he’s not. I lost my shit at him this morning so I think he’s starting to realize I can’t keep living like this, but I don’t know what to do.”

Brie waved down our server and motioned for two more drinks. “You could call his mom. She’d have his grandma come around and beat his ass.”

“Yeah, but then that puts me in Betsy’s debt, and I don’t think I have enough money to buy all the Fireball she’d demand.”

We shared a smile. Jay’s grandmother’s obsession with Fireball wasn’t exactly a secret in town, and it’d caused her to remove her shirt in public more than once.

I did not want to be the person who was responsible for that.

The entire town was still getting over the last time. Especially since Betsy, uh, favored letting the girls go free, if you know what I mean.

“Well, at the very least, you need to lay down the law,” Brie replied, slicing her burger in two. “Lay out some rules or something that you both agree with. And, for the love of God, find out if he’s going to stay permanently to get his ass on your lease.”

With a sigh, I swirled a fry through the ketchup on the side of my plate. “I know. But I don’t want him to think I’m forcing him to stay or kicking him out.”

“Just tell him that you need a roommate. That’s why you allowed him to stay anyway, wasn’t it?”

“That and I’m not a heartless bitch who’d put him on the streets.”

“Well, yeah, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have notice. He just thought everything would fall easily for him like it always has.” She shrugged and sat back. “You need a roommate, and he clearly doesn’t want to leave. But you have to make it official and set some rules.”

I tapped my nails against the table. “All right. I’ll give him two options. Sign onto my lease and live here properly with rules, or he has a month to move out. Or is that not enough time?”

“A month is fine. In the meantime, I’ll find you a safe to store your Oreos in, just in case.”

New drinks were placed in front of us, and we both grinned.

Now that was a best friend.

? ? ?

The apartment was deathly quiet when I got back. I checked the time and saw that Jay would still be at work for another hour, so I wouldn’t see him until some time closer to ten.

If he remembered to stop by the store for my Oreos.

Not that it mattered. I’d wandered to the store on my way back walking home from the bar where Brie and I had met for dinner. I was now the proud owner of three different packets of Oreos, which meant I no longer got to wonder why my shirts were getting a little on the fitted side of life.

Look, writers didn’t wear fitted shirts. We barely even wore pants unless they were sweats or yoga pants. We weren’t here to look pretty; we were here to write until our fingers bled and we cried into our wine.

Nobody said it was a glamorous life.

Still, I’d gotten my work done before I’d gone for dinner with Brie and now I was happily under a blanket on the sofa in the living room. My shorts were made of soft fleece and were probably a little on the indecent side, but they had a super-stretchy waist, so they paired exceptionally well with my Oreos and my tank top that, for once, didn’t have a cuss word on it.

And on the screen was a healthy dose of The Big Bang Theory. Namely, Sheldon Cooper and his spot.

I could relate.

I had a spot.

There was a puffy chair in the corner of my bedroom with a little footstool that was my most comfortable writing spot. It’d once been in the living room, but after I’d found men with sixty pounds of muscle on me using it as their seat, I moved it.

The cushion was molded to my ass, thank you very much. I didn’t need someone with some tight-ass buns ruining the squishy mess mine made.

I tore open the second packet of Oreos—no, I had not eaten the entirety of the first one—and lay back on the sofa cushions. My introvert reveled in the silence of the apartment in these moments.

It was just me, my greedy ass with my cookies, and my favorite TV show.

This was the life.

You know, if I didn’t have to pay rent.

Damn being an adult.

I settled in comfortably and watched as the episode rolled onto the next one. There’s something so relaxing about watching a show you’ve seen a hundred times before. That was how I felt right now—relaxed.

I could easily fall asleep right here, but that would be pointless. Jay was the loudest human being known to man and he’d just wake me up when he came in.

I sighed. How was I supposed to sit and broach the subject of him still living here? Not only was he loud and messy, but he had the attention span of a hungry ant. Unless it was football, then he had an uncanny ability to sit still for the entirety of the game, blocking out everything but whatever the Dallas Cowboys were doing wrong in his humble opinion.

It was a weirdly impressive skill.

I pulled another Oreo from the packet and focused on the TV screen. Turning off my brain was hard, mostly because fictional people lived there and liked to tell me what to do, but I was also a chronic over-thinker.

Which was why I could barely focus on what I was watching.

Groaning, I put the cookies on the coffee table and rolled onto my side. I reached for my water and, right as my fingers made contact with the bottle, knocked it off.