“Eva—”
My phone buzzes on the counter with itineraries from Clayton. Eva glances at it, then at me. “Work?”
“Yeah.” I take a breath. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her expression shifts, the sleepy contentment fading into something more guarded. “That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not—I mean, it’s bad. It’s just…” I run a hand through my hair. “Clayton called about a zillion times while we were asleep. Meow Mobile’s funding ran out. I need to go meet Clay to beg for my job.”
“Oh, Asher. That really sucks.”
“I really need this trip to go well. Like, really.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “What if the job is gone? What then?”
“Then I will fucking panic, enter bankruptcy, have to sell the house… Should I go on?”
Eva sets down her coffee cup. Her face is carefully neutral now, which is somehow worse than if she were upset.
“Okay,” she says.
“Okay?” I’m snapping at her, and I don’t like it. I close my eyes and practice deep breathing. “I am not myself right now. I apologize.”
I open my eyes to see her lips pursed, considering.
“People lose jobs all the time. You’re sure there’s no alternative funding? I don’t know enough about business to understand why you’re so rattled, but I’ve definitely supported my sisters through a job change before.”
“This is a little different from losing a social media client or a retail job.” I start to rinse my coffee mug, not able to meet her eye yet. I’m spiraling, imagining a future where I have to stock shelves for Ginny Quick for minimum wage. And I’m certain I just insulted Eva in my panic, which means she will sell to Ginny and leave while I’m in New York.
“I know I’m being awful right now.” I move toward her, wanting to touch her, to close the distance that’s suddenly opened between us.
She spins her coffee cup on the counter, brow furrowed. “I don’t think I can say anything helpful.” She slides off the stool and walks her mug toward the sink. “I have contractors coming for estimates and a thousand things to figure out about mortgages, so I’m going to head out.”
I swipe a hand along my jaw and blow out a breath. “I know I’m fucking this up and being a dick.”
“Yes,” she says over her shoulder en route to my room.
I follow her, the boot clunking on the floor as I hobble. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. We can talk about this. Eva, last night was … I don’t have words for what last night was. And I’m not about to let work ruin it.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “I’m being stupid. I know I’m being reactive. I’ve been here for like twelve hours, and I’m upset about you leaving and minimizing my career stress. That’s not healthy of me.”
I press a hand to my chest, desperate. “I woke up next to you this morning, and you were snoring and drooling on my pillow, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And then I saw Clayton’s messages, and all I could think was I didn’t want to leave this bed. Didn’t want to leave you.”
She laughs, watery but real. “I don’t drool.”
“You absolutely drool.”
“Slander.”
“I have photographic evidence. Almost.” I kiss her forehead. “I was trying to take a picture when I saw the messages.”
“A picture of me drooling?”
“A picture of you sleeping in my bed. For posterity.”
“That’s creepy.” But she’s smiling now, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Fine. Go to New York. Do your meetings. Save your company. But if you minimize my family’s jobs again, I will break your other ankle.”
“Noted.”
