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“Do you mean, why did I call the cops? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I never gave you my address, and yet you showed up here in the middle of the night….”
I glance at the microwave clock. “It’s ten o’clock.”
“On a Saturday.”
I smirk at him. “And just like that, I knew you’d be home. Alone.”
Elliot glances down at his pajama pants and his plaid button-up top. He looks like Bert fromSesame Street.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I ask, flicking one of the buttons on his shirt.
“Pajamas. Let me guess, you sleep nude like the heathen you are?”
“Fuck yeah, I do. Freedom, baby. And you sleep like you’re a fucking Muppet.”
Elliot rolls his eyes, grabs a beer, and then takes a long swig. He coughs and then sets the beer down, mutteringdisgustingunder his breath. I grab onto the discarded bottle and press it to my mouth. I kind of like that we’re swappin’ spit right about now.
Doesn’t bother me in the least.
“I hate the Muppets,” he adds, watching me gulp the liquid down.
“Me too,” I shudder and give a small burp. “They are freaky little fuckers. It’s not natural.”
I eye the immaculate space again and run a fingertip across the sparkling countertops. He probably never cooks in here; probably has a chef come in once a week to prepare his meals. They’re probably all healthy too.
“So, what are we going to do now?” I ask.
Elliot folds his arms across his chest. “Preferably, you’ll leave, never to be seen again.”
“Nah, you’d miss me if I disappeared. I’ve already wiggled my way into your heart. Let’s watch a movie. I brought all theLethal Weapons.”
I reach into my satchel and pull out the DVDs.
Elliot stares at them for a long minute and then shakes his head. “Oh my god.”
“Nah. Don’t hate. They’re so good. Have you seen them?”
He eyes the cases in my hand with despair. “There arefourof them?”
“Fuck yeah, there are. Do you have popcorn? ‘Cause I forgot that shit.”
“We’ll be up all night if we watch all four.”
I chuckle at how mortified he looks and flick the button on his pajamas again. “That’s the point. Live a little, Eli.”
He arches his eyebrow at me, and I can’t help but ask, “Are you related to Whit?”
His eyebrows rise a little higher. Damn, it’s a gift.
“Who’s that?”
“Never mind,” I say, grabbing onto my third beer before moving toward the living room and putting the DVD into the player. I flop down on the leather couch with a loud squeak and spread my arms and legs. I glance back at Elliot and pat the cushion next to me.
“Come on, man. I’m lonely. Been a while since I cuddled.”
Elliot huffs but moves toward me anyways. And when he sits a little too far away, I just scoot over until our sides are pressed together. He can’t escape me.
I’m the best at hide and seek. Did that with the cops a few times too. Never was caught.
