Just like Jocelyn’s tiny ass is good enough, even though she does a million squats each day to change it. When I point out the reality of genetics, she merely rolls her eyes.
“I just want a little junk back there. I don’t need the whole trunk full. Only a little.”
“And I want to look like The Rock. Itain’thappenin’, girl.”
I find a seat on one of the blue cushioned chairs before the TV and take a long draw on my beer. Against my interior designer’s wishes, I selected these rocking chairs for comfort. William and Larry, sitting on the matching couch nearby, are still hot for NASCAR and barely acknowledge my existence. Where are their wives?
Oh, over there in the pool.
When Joss returns with her pineapple White Claw, her bony butt perches on my armrest. “Maybe we skip the gym tomorrow. I like you a little soft.”
“Oh, don’t start that. You just don’t want to come with.”
She throws a beleaguered glance at the porch ceiling. “You always want to go so early.”
“Maybe I could be persuaded to go a little later.” I squeeze her knee. “You spending the night?”
“Don’t I always?”
She does. Every Saturday. Even if I’m on call. Even if I have a date. Even ifshehas a date. Jocelyn spends Saturdays at my house. She claimed a bedroom for herself, and everyone knows it’s hers. Joss’s room.
My Saturday night roommate.
I set my empty bottle on the table beside us and steal a sip of her pineapple girl drink. “I’m not turning the air up to seventy-four for you this time. Sweated through my sheets last weekend.”
Pink lips curve into a smile and her brown eyes turn mischievous. “I know where the thermostat is.”
Maddening woman.
She shrieks when I scoop her into my arms and deposit her tiny frame into the chair beside mine.
“So how was your date last night?” I ask. “Was the nose ring in his picture as big as it looked?”
“Bigger, actually.”
“Whoa.” That thing was excessive.
“Oh, yeah,” she says, eyebrows risen. “Sadly overcompensating for some things.”
“Bad night, then?”
She shrugs. “I consider it a success when I don’t have to finish myself off.”
Behind a soft chuckle, I shove that mental image right over a cliff in my mind. “So... was it a success?”
She shakes her head, sighing dramatically.
“Poor girl.” I pat her hand in jest. “Maybe it’s time to hang up the one-night stands. You could do better.”
“I know I could.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t want to.”
Yeah, yeah. Heard that before. Jocelyn’s anti-intimacy.Sworn off love. She’s not been super forthcoming about why, though. Regardless, it’s so... sad. She deserves that movie love.
Everyone does, really.
“I feel like I’m being shamed,” she says with narrowed eyes.
I blink at that. “What?” The furthest thing from my mind is that she should be ashamed, but she always goes back to this. “That’s not at all— Never mind. Do whatever makes you happy, Joss.”
