Page 61 of Hot Mess
“Coffee?”
“Sure.”
“You ready to rock?”
“Always.”
“Ha.” She made a skeptical little snort sound.
Some dude rolled out of the back hall. Scruffy emo hair, skinny jeans and an overly ironic Cyndi LauperGirls Just Want to Have FunT-shirt. Had a definite wounded-poet vibe about him.
Where the fuck did she find these guys?
“Hey, man,” he said when he saw me.
“Hey.”
“You’re Ashley Player.”
“Guilty.”
“Cool.”
He headed over to Summer. They had a long, sloppy kiss while I read Danica’s text.
Danica (the hot twin):I just want to make sure it’s the right shade in the light you have throughout the day, especially in the dining area. Warm but not too warm.
I heard Summer walking poet-boy out to the front door, and some more kissing and mumbling, while I texted Danica back.
Me:Its white
Danica (the hot twin):You know how many shades of white there are?
Me:You can show me when you come over
Danica (the hot twin):Do you prefer cotton for your bedding?
Me:I dont give a fuck
Danica (the hot twin):100% cotton is more breathable. But it gives us less color choices. Have you given any thought to the bedspread colors I sent over?
Yeah, she’d been working on this already—last night. Friday night. She’d sent me a shit-ton of texts about it while I was drinking with Janner.
Me:I literally dont give a fuck
Danica (the hot twin):Do you understand what “literally” means?
Me:I take it back. I would literally give a fuck, if you asked me for one
There.
Direct. Honest.
Who could fault me for that?
But there was a long-ass pause before she responded to that one.
Danica (the hot twin):Okay, I respect your directness. But I’d prefer to keep things professional, if you don’t mind.
