Jack looks at me, blinking slowly. “That’s disgusting.”
“My descriptive and spot-on language or the question?”
“Both.” He picks up a remote—one of at least five—from the coffee table and turns on the TV.
I decide to leave it alone. For now. This couch is actually supremely comfy, and this sure as hell beats watching Housewives on my iPad. I take a sip of my wine. “One of these days, I will crack you, Jack Thomas.”
And if I’m not mistaken, that’s a smile I catch out of the corner of my eye.
JACK:Do I smell something burning up there?
ME:If you were really that concerned, you’d get your ass up off that super-comfy couch and check on me yourself.
JACK:Is that a yes?
ME:I’m fine, thanks for your concern. Just cutting the tops off glass bottles so I can use them as vases.
JACK:You’re cutting glass with fire?!?!?!?
ME:Relax, I read like ten Pinterest tutorials before I started.
JACK:Fire extinguisher is under the sink.
ME:Oh ye of little faith.
GEMMA:So I know I still have two more weeks, but what are we doing to celebrate my last day of school?
GEMMA:I need something to live for.
ME:You guys could come to my bar!
NICK:Are there free drinks involved in that offer?
ME:There are heavier-than-normal pours involved in that offer.
ME:As long as the tips are good, obvs.
GEMMA:We have to tip you?!?!?!?
ME:You do know I make less than minimum wage now, right?
GEMMA:I also know what you pay in rent to live in your SWEET-ASS HOUSE with your adorable roommate.
ME:Jack is not adorable.
HARLEY:He totally is and you know it.
NICK:So drinks at Sadie’s place?
ME:Hmmm. Sadie’s Place. I like the sound of that. Maybe I should open a bar...
ME:Dude, are you okay?
JACK:?
ME:That’s not an answer. Seriously, are you all right?
JACK:I’m fine, what’s the problem?
