Page 34 of Under the Weatherman
As proof of my chivalry, I held the door to let her walk out ahead me. “We really would kill it at marriage.”
Out on the pedestrian mall, the streetlights had come on, Chelsea punched my shoulder. “Go kill ‘em, Tiger.”
I waved before heading in the opposite direction with a little too much optimism about the new job, hoping I wasn’t wrong. Hoping this was the dawn of a new day.
Chapter Ten
Evan
“Heat a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.”
Henry VIII
As I pulled into town Tuesday afternoon, I slow-rolled past Elizabeth’s house, mainly to rebuild a narrative in my mind that matched reality and not the fiction she’d led me to believe. I wasn’t ready to see her; I wasn’t sure I ever would be. But I couldn’t ignore the impact that night had on me, even if it was total bullshit.
I parked in front of Basil’s and popped the trunk to grab my suitcase. Bas opened the door and jogged out to help, but I didn’t have much. Most of my things were in storage.
When he’d offered me his couch for a few days, I’d jumped at the chance. It was such a weight off having a friend here. I shuddered to think how much more difficult this transition would have been in another city.
“How was the drive?” he asked, lifting my backpack from me.
“Long and hard.” I snorted.
“Oh, it’s like that? Straight up with the dick jokes?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m so tired.”
“Come on in. I’ve cooked us some dinner.”
He wouldn’t need to ask me twice. Last month, he’d fed me some kind of stir fry that tasted better than anything I’d ever had in a restaurant. “What are you making?”
“It’s nothing fancy. Just a pasta carbonara.”
“That’s my favorite.”
“I know.” He grinned.
What a guy. “Look at us rooming together again.”
Inside, the dog ran around my legs, jumping up for pets until Basil’s roommate Farrid emerged from his bedroom and said, “Come on, Pepper.” He slid open the patio door and let her out back. “Sorry. She’s excitable.”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out. “We met a few weeks ago.”
He gripped my hand. “Yeah. Hope you don’t mind me coming and going at odd hours.”
Bas said, “Farrid’s a resident at the hospital.”
“I remember.”
Farrid yawned. “But right now, I’m going back to sleep. Make yourself at home.”
Bas drifted back to the kitchen and began setting plates on the counter. I pulled up a stool and watched as he took a casserole out of the oven.
“When do you start?” he asked, as he kneed the door shut.
“I’m going in Thursday to shoot some bumper reels, but I don’t go on air until next week.”
“Oh, wow. Soon.” He divvied up the pasta and then turned to the fridge. “Beer?”
