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"What would I care?" he said, laughing. And then his eyes narrowed. "Though don't go thinking about it. Do you hear?"
"Why would I ever want to share a bed with Oliver?"
"Yeah. And why would I want to share a bed with Rosalie? She snores like crazy."
"No, I don't," I shouted.
"Yeah, you do. This morning you were snoring your ass off when I left for work."
"No, I wasn't." I glared at him.
"Yeah, you were. I thought that I was going to have to get some earplugs."
"Really," I said. "I was snoring when you left for work this morning."
"Yeah. Why do you think you weren't?" he said, his eyes on mine, a devilish glint in them.
"Oh, I don't know. I was asleep when you left. So maybe." I shrugged. I turned back to Foster. "And no, Alice is not sleeping in your bed. I was thinking that we could get her an air mattress."
"Okay, that's going to take up practically the entire living room," Foster said.
"I mean, what else are we going to do? I'm on the couch, and it's not big enough for the two of us. Neither one of you is offering your bedrooms."
Oliver sighed. "I mean, if you really want a bedroom, I can—"
"No," I said quickly. "You can't offer your bedroom to Alice and me." I didn't want his kindness. And also, there was no way I could sleep in his room, smelling his scent and seeing his possessions. It would drive me absolutely crazy and make me feel even worse than I already did. Because even though I hated him, and even though he got on my last nerve, standing here next to Oliver, looking into his blue-gray eyes and staring at his slightly too long, dark hair, I just wanted to kiss him. I just wanted to touch him. He was so fucking sexy. I hated it.
"Yeah, you can't do that, Oliver," Foster said. "If anyone's going to give up their room, it should be me." He sighed. "And I don't really want to give up my room, but I guess let's see what happens when Alice gets here."
"You're seriously considering giving up your room?" I stare at him in shock. "No way."
"I mean, we'll see. So what's the plan for tonight?"
"I don't know," I said. "What do you guys normally do on a Friday night?"
"We go to a bar, or one of us has a date, or both of us have dates," Foster said with a laugh. "Speaking of, Diana called me the other day."
"Oh?" Oliver looked at him, though nothing in his expression gave anything away.
"Yeah. I was in a meeting, so I didn't answer. She didn't leave a voicemail or anything, and I didn't call her back. I was wondering what was going on."
"Don't know." Oliver shook his head. "She and I are over."
"Really? Like over over or just kind of over?"
"We're done. She and I are not looking for the same things. And I realized that her personality wasn't really…"
"Dude, her personality's always sucked," Foster laughed. "But you said she..." He paused and looked at me. "Well, I guess I don't want to have this conversation in front of my sister."
"Why not, Foster? Is this how you normally talk about women?"
"Have I said anything bad about women?" he said, looking at me with his light-brown eyes laughing slightly. "So shall we get dinner tonight? Maybe we can go to a comedy show."
"That sounds fun," I said. "Are you paying?"
"Didn't you say Mom and Dad gave you some money?"
"Yeah, but I don't want to spend all of it, especially not on a comedy show. I don't know how long it's going to have to last me."
