Olivia throws a towel at me and laughs. “Now stop staring at the wall like a dumbass and help us with the groceries.”
Groaning, I head to the kitchen and start unpacking the bags and filling up the cabinets while Nick pushes around dirty dishes. “Always making me do chores.”
“Therapy ain’t free, boy. Gotta pull your weight.”
“And the dishes are supposed to be clean,” Nick retorts, his tone impassive.
“Not you turning on me, Nick!” She hits his back. “Traitor.”
I hold back a snort, but she rewards me by throwing a bag of toilet paper at me, making me chortle as she flips me off for catching it.
Spending time with her is always so refreshing. She loves to roast my entire existence and make me help her clean their place as if I lived with them.
In the end, it’s quality time, so I don’t mind.
“When’s your date?” she asks, winking at me. “You better go all out for him. Can’t fuck up your only chance.”
I smile, proud of what she accomplished. She raised mountains to get away from her sack of shit family and get a scholarship at NYU. I know she still feels guilty for leaving her little brother behind, but she had no other choice.
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Tonight. I’m picking him up at seven. I made a reservation at Francie’s.”
“Francie? That’s real fancy. Ha, it rhymes.” She whistles, leaning against the counter. “Rich people sure know how to eat well and expensive.”
I chuckle, tensing from her remark. Our statuses are clearly not on the same level anymore. Sometimes I wonder if she dislikes my wealth as much as she hates celebrities and famous billionaires.
“Fuck, my cigarette!” She runs over to the ashtray to find her cigarette has smoked itself.
“Are you doing something today?” I ask.
She glances behind me at her roommate before answering, “Nope. Nothing. Maybe just cleaning a bit ‘cause you can see the mess we live in.”
Nick frowns at her words and corrects her. “Yourmess.”
“Yeah, yeah. My mess.” She playfully rolls her eyes and nods toward her bedroom. “We’ll hang out in my room to not bother mister clean.” She grins and gestures toward the bedroom before hopping inside. “You still gotta tell me every excruciating detail from the past two days.”
I snort and close the door behind us. “Remind me, who constantly complained whenever Xander gossiped?”
“That’s not the same,” she retorts. “This is storytelling, not gossip.”
Rolling my eyes, I playfully shove her onto her bed with my foot and slump in her armchair. “You’re so full of shit. Get ready for this ‘cause I’m gonna spend the entire afternoon telling you about Aoi. I won’t shut up even if you beg me to.”
She throws a pillow at me. “Stop edging me and spill!”
“Okay! Okay!”
20
Aoi
I overslept and completely forgot to text Aiden.
We were supposed to meet this morning for coffee, but I was so exhausted after tossing and turning all night that I completely forgot about our appointment.
I got dressed in a hurry and rushed out of my hotel after I called him to apologize and ask if we could reschedule. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound offended in the least and offered to meet later this afternoon.
So, here I am, running to my car and coiffing my hair in the mirror, trying to make myself look less out of the gutter than I do. I drive all the way to Central Park where Aiden is waiting in a small coffee shop, and oddly enough, I’m not nervous.
Hopefully, he’s not getting trampled by hordes of fans.
