Shortly after her exuberant greeting echoes down the hall, a plucky little redhead comes bounding around the corner, ready to launch herself into someone’s arms.
Not mine. Because she stops short when she sees me heading her way first.
“You’re not Jovi.”
“How very observant you are.” I plaster on a smile before Jovi can jab me with his elbow. “You must be Casey.”
“Liz is staying here tonight,” he announces, scooting past us both, skipping over introductions and greetings alike. “Just pretend she’s invisible and soundless. Trust me, you’ll prefer her that way.”
He rounds the corner of the entry hall and disappears, leaving me and Casey to stand here, locked in our pre-collision stance.
“He’s right,” I tell her, hoping it’ll break her out of her stumped trance and get her out of my way. “I’m kind of an asshole. You really don’t want to bother with me.”
She scrunches up her nose, making the broad patch of freckles dance on her face. “I’ve heard.”
Well, that explains the lack of introductions.
“Always nice to know my reputation precedes me,” I mutter dryly, taking the initiative to walk around her since she still hasn’t budged from her spot.
“He’s serious about me, you know,” she says, loud enough to stop me right as I’m about to make my escape the same way Jovi did.
Fighting my desire to bolt, I turn back around to face her. “I can see that.” I use one hand to gesture at the surrounding walls. “You live together.”
For now.
Whether he ever finds the balls to kick her out or not, Joviwillbe moving.
To come live with me.
God, it’s just one tragedy after the next.
“We do.” She nods, as of yet, oblivious to the twist of fate that awaits her. She takes a step toward me. Apparently, the torture portion of this evening hasn’t ended.
“Was that all?” I’m not about to tell Casey this, but she’s hardly the first insecure girl Jovi’s brought around who can’t tell the difference between a healthy mutual despising and sexual chemistry.
“Almost.” She takes another step. This girl has no concept of personal boundaries. “I know you’re going through something pretty rough right now.” A fucking understatement if I ever heard one. “And that sometimes grief can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do. Make you think you feel something, you really don’t.”
“Uh-huh.” I swallow down the urge to laugh at her only because I’m afraid any outburst of emotion will end in my sobbing. That even so much as a giggle would act as a segue to tears. It’s not worth the risk. So I silently start counting to ten instead. If I reach the end and she’s still talking, I’m calling Jovi back.
“I know Jovi’s the only person you have left now, and I would hate for you to risk the last relationship you have tying you to home over something stupid you’d only regret down the road.” She reaches out and strokes my arm like I’m a freaking cat until she reaches my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “So, if you need comfort or support of any kind through this terrible time, please considercoming to me instead of him. I realize we've never met before tonight, but if you’re important to my man, you’re important to me.”
I snort. “I assure you, I’m not important to Jovi.”
I back up and take my damn hand with me.
“But since you’re worried, let me offeryousome comfort,” I pause to cross my arms, just in case she has any more dumb ideas about touching me. “I will die of a broken heart, drowning in grief, alone in the darkness before I ever even think of reaching out toyour man. He’s no source of comfort to me. If anything, he’s the last living, breathing reminder of what once was. Worse, he’s the only piece of my past I ever wanted to be rid of. And now, he’s all I have left.”
I give her a second to respond. When all she does is stare back at me, mouth hanging open like a fish, I consider the matter settled and walk away.
I wander through the house alone for all of thirty seconds before I stumble upon the kitchen and find Jovi standing at the sink.
“Your girlfriend’s a psycho,” I mumble as I pass through. The kitchen is wide open, and I see another hall splitting off past the refrigerator. Since no one has offered to give me a tour of the place, I’m hoping the bedrooms are somewhere in that direction.
“Takes one to know one,” he mutters back, looking up from the box of Chinese takeout he’s been digging into. He drops at least three noodles every time he tries to stuff his mouth with cold lo mein. I’m starting to understand why he’s eating over the sink. To make an already unpleasant sight still less appealing, he holds the carton out in my direction. “Want some?”
“As an avid lover and consumer of food, allow me to be the first to say,ew.” I scrunch my nose in disgust as he shovels another load of noodles into his mouth.
“As a professional provider of hospitality, allow me to be the first to say, your people skills need work,” he throws back, mouth overflowingly full. “Also, you’re headed to the pantry and laundry room. I keep my camping gear in there, so your sleeping needs could be met, but I’m guessing you’d still prefer not to spend the night in either one of those spaces.”
