Page 10 of Never Forget

If I’m honest, I didn’t hate waking up the way we did. I don’t remember the last time I slept so well. Or comfortably. Who knew Scott Riley would make such a good mattress?

Even so, I’m not sure I can handle a week of this. If this is what happened after just the first night, I can’t imagine how much further the lines would continue to blur after an entire week. Scott is too nice a guy for things to not devolve outside the perimeters we outlined when we started this arrangement.

I follow the smell of coffee down the hallway and find Emmy in the kitchen. He has his back to me, so I have just enough time to situate myself with my arms crossed and put on a disapproving scowl. It’s harder than I will ever admit to hold my glare while he shimmies and shakes his little ass to whatever music is playing in his earbuds. Eventually, he turns around, letting out a piercing shriek and flinging a jar at me. What I’m pretty sure are tea leaves shoot into the air like confetti and cover every surface of the kitchen, my body, and my hair.

“Earl Grey?”

Emmy nods sheepishly. “It’s Mr. Holland’s favorite breakfast blend.”

“Smells lovely,” I deadpan, but don’t stop glaring as Emmy scuttles around the kitchen to find a broom. “I hope he didn’t want any in his cup.” I upend the now empty jar of tea leaves that I thankfully caught with my hands and not my head. It’s a pretty heavy decorative jar.

Emmy makes a little “meep” sound and grabs the jar from me, examining it for damage with a worried expression.

“No worries little man, I caught it.”

“Don’t call me that. But thanks.”

“You are a little man.”

“I’m not that little. You’re all just freakishly tall. Except for Ari, he’s normal sized.”

“Still taller than you.”

“By an inch.”

“Every inch counts.” I waggle my eyebrows, and it’s not until Emmy chokes on a laugh and turns beet red that I remember that I’m mad at him. “You wanna tell me what I did to piss you off?”

“Huh? I’m not pissed at you. I didn’t mean to throw the canister. You just surprised me by standing over there all broody and glowering at me. Wait, why were you glowering?”

“You gave us all room assignments.”

“Um… Well, not really. Everyone’s just naturally coupled up. Except me, of course. And Blake. Which is why he got his own room, and I slept on the couch.”

“Uh-huh.” I cut my eyes to the clearly unused pillow and neatly folded blankets at the far end of the couch. A couch I would have gladly slept on if Emmy hadn’t claimed it for himself, even though we all know where he was sleeping last night.

Emmy narrows his eyes. “Did Will say something? Because whatever he told you, it’s probably bullshit. He thinks he’s funny.”

“Why do you think Will said something?”

“Because Ari knows how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Oooh. Must be something good, then. Please do tell.”

Emmy clamps his lips shut. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You are literally the worst liar. Please get over yourself and just sleep in Blake's bed the way we all know you are.”

“I’m not⁠—”

“And then I can actually sleep on the couch.”

Emmy freezes. “Wait. What? Why would you sleep on the couch?”

“Because you have me sharing a bed with Scott.”

“Yes… And?”

“Scott and I do not sleep together.”