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“Okay, how about if we all just try to get through this without pissing each other off,” Ginger shouted over the guy’s laughter. “Don’t be such children.”
“You hardly know us well enough to make that kind of assessment,” Brooks said.
“He’s right,” Savannah said. “Can we all just agree to come up with some beach house rules and then, we can get on with our days—separately?”
“That works for me,” Brooks said. “I think that you and I have already spent enough time together this morning.” She shot him a look and he smirked back at her. What was it about this man that made her blood boil? She had never been so attracted to and so repulsed by the same man.
“Let’s start with food,” Savannah ordered. “We’ll label everything we purchase and that means that it’s off-limits,” she said.
“What about condiments and such?” Brooks countered. “We certainly don’t need two ketchups, two mustards, and all that stuff.” He was right, but she had a feeling that sharing anything was going to be hard for this group.
“We can come up with a list and you guys can buy half of the condiments and we’ll buy the other half and share. Does that work?” she asked.
“As long as you don’t eat all of the pickles,” Colter jumped in. “I love pickles.”
“We’ll by some extra fucking pickles, man,” Brooks interrupted Colter spilling his guts about how much he adored pickles. Savannah was sure that the guy would have gone on longer about his beloved pickles if given the chance.
“Good, that’s all I’m asking,” Colter said.
“And we’ll replace the beer that these two drank this morning,” Brooks insisted.
“That would be appreciated,” Norah said.
“So, we’re good on the food rules?” Savannah asked. Everyone around the room nodded their agreement and she wondered just how long this was going to take. She really wanted to get to the beach. Hell, she really needed a nap, but she could probably take one on the beach after she went for a swim.
“Does anyone have any suggestions for another rule?” Brooks asked.
“We don’t want to have to clean up after you guys,” Ginger insisted.
“Oh—that’s a good one,” Norah agreed. Savannah had to admit, it was a good rule. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her summer cleaning up after a bunch of wanna-be fraternity boys.
“When I was a kid, my mother made up a chores list for me and my brother,” Brooks said. “How about if we do something like that? We can take turns and rotate the jobs, that way, no one is stuck cleaning the toilets all summer long.”
“I say that the couples sharing the room should be responsible for cleaning their own bedrooms and bathrooms,” Savannah amended.
“That works for me,” Ginger agreed. “We can each take a week and work that out with our roommates.” She shot Jude a look and Savannah wanted to slap her friend. They were there to help Ginger forget about her jerk of an ex-boyfriend, not to flirt with the men who were taking over their beach house for the summer.
“That works for us too,” Norah said, nodding over at Colter. Savannah hated how her best friends were calling themselves an “Us” with the men who were supposed to be their mortal enemies. Maybe that was a bit harsh, but they definitely weren’t friends, and Norah and Ginger were treating them like besties, and they hadn’t even known the guys for a full day yet.
“Fine,” Savannah said. “We’ll make a chart for the rest of the house and each take turns rotating through the chores.”
“Do we need to make a kitchen schedule or are we going to all eat the same thing?” Ginger asked. “The only reason I’m asking is because that kitchen is kind of small and if two chefs are cooking every night, it might get a bit crowded.”
“We can make a chart for cooking duties too,” Brooks offered. “You know, we can each take a night to cook.”
“What happens if we don’t like what someone has made for dinner?” Colter asked.
“Well, when I was a kid, if I didn’t like what my mother had made for dinner, I was told maybe I’d like breakfast. You either ate what she made, or you went hungry,” Savannah said. Her mother wasn’t a very stern woman, but when it came to making dinner, she didn’t mess around. You either ate what she made, or you’d go hungry. Of course, Savannah’s father would always sneak her dessert up in her room, when her mom wasn’t paying attention. It was one of the things that she loved most about her dad—he was the kindest man she had ever known.
“That sounds like a good rule of thumb still,” Brooks agreed. “I grew up with the same rules. Does anyone suck at cooking?” Jude raised his hand and Brooks chuckled. “Yeah, I was pretty sure that you’d raise your hand. What happened to those cooking classes that Colter and I got you for your birthday last year?” he asked.
“You got your friend cooking classes as a birthday gift?” Savannah asked.
“Yep, and rightly so,” Brooks said. “Jude always got out of cooking when the three of us got together. He’d always ordered pizza or something like that, so we decided it was time our friend learned a few cooking basics. He was supposed to have the classes over the winter.” Brooks shot his friend an accusatory look and Jude shrugged.
“I dropped out after the second class,” he admitted.
“Shit, man,” Colter grumbled. “Those classes cost us a fucking ton of money. You could have told us so that we could have gotten a refund.”
