Page 39 of In The Weeds
“Right back at you.”
CHAPTER NINE
BECKETT
I wakeup face down in my bed, two cats burrowed between my shoulder blades and my phone vibrating on the nightstand. I groan and fight not to fling the damn thing right out the window. I was having a dream about Evelyn and those socks she was wearing on the back porch—the ones that go all the way up to her knees. In my dream, she was only wearing those socks, a coy smile on her dark red lips.
I’m a creature of habit, and I can feel myself making new habits with Evelyn in my space. I’m used to having her here now—I like it, even. I like hearing her move around on the other side of the house in the middle of the night, a muffled curse under her breath when she runs into something in the dark. I like listening to her talk to the cats, arguments with Prancer about who has a right to the big fluffy scarf she loops around her neck. I like her shoes in the hallway and her bag on one of the hooks by the door. Her tube of lipstick on the kitchen counter and her hair ties forgotten on the edge of the sink.
I roll over in bed and Comet and Vixen voice their protest, finding another place in the blankets to curl up in. I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes until I see spots.
I shouldn’tlikeanything.
I certainly shouldn’t like dreaming about her. Pretty sure that crosses some sort of line in the tremulous friend truce we’ve slowly pieced together.
But my brain hasn’t gotten the memo. Every night is a free-for-all of vivid fantasies. Evelyn in the giant tub, bubbles sliding down her neck. Evelyn in the kitchen, bent over my countertop. Evelyn up against the bookshelf by the fireplace, her hands curling around the edges.
My phone vibrates again and I blindly slap around my nightstand. Predawn light flirts with the edges of my window in a shadow of gray.
4:32 am
Nessa:You’re needed at trivia this week.
Nessa:I don’t want to hear a single complaint or excuse.
Nessa:One of the categories is botany.
I frown at my phone.
4:41 am
Beckett:What are you doing up so early?
Beckett:And no.
My family has a trivia team for the bar’s monthly competitions. They’re scary competitive about it. Harper almost threw a chair through the front window when she got a question wrong about Boyz II Men.
4:42 am
Nessa:Early rehearsal before work.
Nessa:You have 72-hours to come to terms with this reality. Harper can’t make it.
I rack my brain for an appropriate excuse.
4:43 am
Beckett:I’m not registered.
I know for a fact all team members need to be registered at the start of the trivia season. Caleb had to intervene in a dispute last year when Gus and Monty pulled Luka in for the Bruce Willis category without any clearance.
I sit up in bed and swing my legs over the edge, the floorboards cold beneath my feet. It’s been unseasonably chilly this March. I glance at the window, and then back down to my phone when it buzzes again.
4:45 am
Nessa:Oh, sweet brother of mine.
Nessa:We register you every year for exactly this reason.
