“That was for us!” I yelled, marching over to him. Actually, it was more scooting around the foot of floor space between the bed and the wall.
Evan stared at me as I shimmied, got stuck, and then tripped on one of the containers I had shoved under the bed and half flopped onto the mattress. Fergus swiped at me with a paw. I ignore the cat and snatched the lasagna away from Evan.
“You can’t just come into someone’s house and eat all their lasagna.”
“You said I could have it!” he shouted. “Besides, this is barely enough for one person!”
“You’re so entitled! The lasagna was to share!”
“Then have the rest of it,” he said angrily.
“There’s barely any left.”
“I cannot believe we’re fighting about food!” he scoffed. “I’ll buy you some more.”
“With what money?” I retorted, glaring at the container. There were only two bites left. I rage-ate them. “This is the worst day ever,” I complained.
“You’re telling me,” Evan said, crossing his muscular arms over his ripped bare chest. “I don’t even see HBO Go on your laptop.”
4
Evan
“So no streaming then?”
Ivy’s gaze was ice. I felt slightly bad about eating her food.
“We’ll make it up to her, won’t we, Fergus?” I said to the cat as Ivy shuffled back around the bed to the kitchen.
She was wearing a long T-shirt and yoga pants. I suddenly wondered what we were going to do about the sleeping arrangements. I would have slept on the floor, but there literally wasn’t any room. My office at my company headquarters was bigger than this place.
Ivy had made it cozy, though. Weddings in the City was considered one of the trendiest wedding companies in Manhattan, as Camilla had liked to tell everyone. And Ivy had decorated the space. There were café lights that let off a warm glow, a few plants that were clinging to life, and vintage record covers decorating a wall. The bedspread was soft and white. A fabric-covered bulletin board held pictures of smiling brides, calligraphy wedding invitations, and a fancy three-story penthouse with a huge clock window. On the photos, Ivy had written #Goals in fancy gold script.
I leaned back against the mound of pillows with Fergus curled into the crook of my arm. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to leave, but after dealing with not just the terrible wedding day but also the months leading up to it, during which Camilla would screech and throw things at me, it was nice to be in Ivy’s soft and comfortable apartment.
Though she did not have HBO Go.
“There’s YouTube and Netflix,” she said, coming back and sitting on the edge of the bed. I scooted over so she had more room.
She didn’t budge.
“You can’t possibly be comfortable.”
“You’re taking up the entire bed! My bed, the bed that I bought.”
“Guess she’s sleeping in the kitchen,” I told Fergus.
Ivy huffed then lay down next to me. Her arm accidentally brushed my bare chest, and an electric thrill passed through me.
Yeah, it’s definitely been too long since I’ve been laid.
I glanced at Ivy. She had her arms crossed tightly against her chest and was stiff as a board.
She’s probably not going to humor any funny business.
Ivy judged me as I scrolled through YouTube videos on the screen.
“Of course you would want to watch that!” she scoffed when I selected one.
