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“Not really, because the money part of this feels a little skeevy, to be honest.” She leaned down and opened her purse. “I like helping people, and I can definitely use the cash because I’d like to ditch the roommates someday, but it feels wrong somehow.”
“Agreed.”
“That reminds me.” She glanced over as she pulled out a tube of lipstick. “I texted Asha after Starbucks yesterday, and she said her checkdidn’tbounce because you still haven’t cashed it.”
“That’s weird,” I said, my eyes staying on the road.
“So you lied to me,” she said, not sounding upset about it.
“Itriedlying to you,” I corrected, switching lanes to go around a slow truck, “but you lawyered the shit out of my attempt and made me lean on your heartstrings instead.”
“Jerk,” she said with a tease in her voice.
“Bleeding heart,” I replied.
She coughed a laugh. “Takes one to know one.”
“Agree yet again,” I said.
It was weird that we barely knew each other, because the look we shared, a self-deprecating kind of appreciative stare, felt like something that belonged to old friends.
“You do cashsomeof the checks, don’t you?” she asked, pulling down the visor. “Or are youactuallya superhero?”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to ask about finances?”
“Hasn’t anyone ever toldyouthat it’s rude to call someone rude?”
My eyes went back to her side of the truck, and she was running that red lipstick over her lips.Dear God, she has a sexy mouth.
I cleared my throat and looked back at the highway.
“Y’know,” I said, “we should always do weddings as a team. Noone thought you were into the groom because you were with a date, which really cut out some potential bullshit.”
“Idoremember Stuart giving me a suspicious glare when you first objected, so I could see how that could be a presumption.”
“Again with the takes one to know one, right?”
“For sure.” She leaned down and put her lipstick back in her bag. “But what makes you think I have all this free time to accompany you to weddings? I do have a life, y’know.”
“No offense,” I said, “but I’m picturing your roommates right now and not believing you.”
“Shut up and drive, Parks.”
“Shut up and ride, Steinbeck.”
eleven
Sophie
“That guy. Yourturn.”
“Okay.” I narrowed my eyes and looked at the man who’d just entered the bar. Max and I had been playing “What would that person do in an apocalypse?” for nearly an hour, side by side on our stools at the bar, and I was having a blast.
“His name is Chuck and he’s going to die the first week.”
“Why?” Max asked, also watching the new customer as he lifted a bottle of Dos Equis to his lips.
“Because he works in construction—no offense,” I quickly added, not wanting to insult him.
