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“Okay,” I said, playing along. “You wanna go first or me?”
Chapter Nine
Escape Room
On Saturday night, Coop already sat on the steps to my apartment when I got home from work. I smelled like a combination of too many burgers, sweat, and some chocolate syrup I’d spilled earlier. The first Saturday following the first full week of school and Mason’s had been full all afternoon. Awesome tips, but brutal on the rest of me.
Coop waved. “Your mom was heading out when I got here.”
Hey, someone had seen my mom. Good to know I didn’t need to file a missing person’s report.
“Yeah?” I kept it noncommittal. “Cool. I need a shower.” The guys would be there in thirty minutes. “So you can come in, but you gotta wait.”
“No prob.” He followed me inside, leaning forward to sniff my hair when I dropped my keys on the counter. “Why do you smell like a cheeseburger?”
“Ugh.” I pushed his face away with a light shove. “Because that’s all I served today. I think I’ve got grease in my pores.” If I never ate a burger again it would be too soon.
“Maybe Mason’s should offer a new special,” Coop teased, opening the fridge and pulling out one of the last two cokes in there. He popped the top as he followed me back toward the bedroom. All the cats scattered as I dropped to sit on the bed and pulled off my shoes.
Flopping behind me, Coop sprawled on his side. “Think about it, you could do a juicy chicken sandwich or something then it would be Chick and Thick.”
I groaned.
“I think I’m on to something. Or maybe you just like it big and thick.”
After throwing my socks in the dirty clothes and shoving my shoes under the bed, I flipped him off. “I’m going to shower. Get your shoes off my bed.” I bumped his legs and he sat up, then toed of his shoes with a smirk before relaxing back against the headboard.
“Take your time.” He held up his phone at the same point Tiddles leapt onto the bed and strutted up to rub against his hand. “Me and my boy here will hold down the fort.”
The black cat let out a little yowl before he bumped Coop’s hand again. Rolling my eyes at both of them, I dug out a clean pair of jeans and a tank top—then debated a t-shirt instead but the jeans were bad enough. I had a dark blue half-lace tank top that I’d picked up earlier in the summer and hadn’t had a reason to wear yet.
“I like that,” Coop said when I pulled it out.
With a snort, I held it up to myself then eyed him. “You can’t borrow it.”
My turn to get the middle finger. I grinned before I got out clean panties and a bra, blocking his view of the drawer so I could avoid the comments.
“Be back in a few.” My bathroom wasn’t an en suite. It was in the hall. A tidy, tight little room. The cat’s litter box was also in there, tucked into the cupboard under the sink. We’d unscrewed the doors on it years ago, and they were stored in Mom’s closet or mine. But the location meant I was particular about keeping the litter box clean, which I’d done that morning before work. Dumping the clean clothes on the counter, I studied my appearance in the mirror before turning on the shower to heat the water.
I’d been courting a breakout earlier, but it looked like the zit hadn’t made an appearance. Ugh, good. I stripped out of my work clothes and left them in a heap and pulled my hair out of its bun. My scalp ached, but I used my nails—or what little I had of them—to massage some feeling back into it.
The shower took me under ten minutes, including washing my hair because I had to get that hamburger smell off. I wouldn’t have time to flat iron it, but my curly hair wasn’t new to the guys. Out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my hair, then used a second to dry off.
Muscle aches I hadn’t realized I had made themselves known. My feet hurt. My legs hurt. I think my ass even hurt, but that could just be sympathy pains. Cracking the door to let the humidity out, I hung up my towel, ran some lotion over my arms and legs, slapped on some deodorant, then pulled on the bra and panties before tugging the blue lace tank top on. I gave it a critical eye. It looked even better than it had I the store, solid panels covered my boobs and the lace was dark and dense enough you had to pay attention to realize it was revealing at all.
Jeans went on last, but they were soft, ripped, and worn in all the right places. One perk of hitting my max height when I was fourteen—most of what fit me then still fit me and my favorite jeans were still my favorite jeans. The washed out color of the jeans looked good against the dark blue top.
Dressed, I pulled the door wide and tugged off the towel and shook out my damp curls. Everything was already pulling upward. I remember in junior high, one of the girls told me how much she envied me my hair. What she didn’t get was those curls meant I had two styles—one where the curls looked okay and the other where I was Captain FrizzGirl
Did I want to put on cosmetics?
With a snort, I settled for a quick brush of my teeth, facial moisturizer, and lip gloss. The gloss I stored in my pocket in case I needed it later. Dirty clothes under my arm, I shut off the light in the bathroom and headed back to my room.
“Hey, Frankie, what’sdessert options?” Coop had my phone, which I’d stupidly left next to my wallet on the dresser.
Dammit.I shoved my dirty clothes in the hamper and crossed the room to pluck the phone away, but he twisted to hold onto it.
He repeated, “Who or what is a dessert option?”
