Page 69 of Bar Down Baby!
Jeremy ignored me, face already in my fridge. “Can I have one of these meals?”
I sighed and picked up Junior, my belly big enough for him to be propped atop it. He purred and nuzzled into my neck.
“Not the lasagna.”
“But that shit looks fire,” Jeremy whined.
“It is. Put it down.”
He clicked his tongue against his teeth but opted for one of the salmon and quinoa meals instead, also grabbing one of the probiotic sodasanda protein drink. The back door opened, letting in Kate and Greg, his leash dragging behind him.
“What did he pay you to do?” Jeremy asked our oldest sister.
“Who?” Kate asked, hanging her old corduroy Harvey Janitorial coat on a hook.
“Barry,” I said and retrieved one of the lasagna containers for me.
“He’s paying people to hang out with you? And I’m here for free?” Kate asked, earning a flat look from me and a snicker from Jeremy. The microwave beeped.
“He’s paying him to scoop litter.”
“Surprised he hasn’t gotten one of the expensive litter machines yet,” Kate said and made her way to the fridge. “Can I have a lasagna?”
“No,” Jeremy and I said at the same time. Kate muttered something and grabbed another salmon dish.
“Your fridge is fucking stacked, dude. Does he have a chef do this for him?” Jeremy took a bite of food, then breathed with his mouth open to cool it down.
“No, I think he just likes cooking.” I put my lasagna plate in the microwave and set it to cook, opening a sparkling water.
“If I was rich, I would not cook again,” Jeremy said dreamily.
“You don’t cook now,” Kate pointed out.
“Okay, hater, not true,” Jeremy defended, though it was totally true.
With our warmed-up meals courtesy of Barry, we moseyed into the living room where we watched three episodes ofGossip Girl, which Jeremy didn’t even pretend to dislike anymore. He was completely invested, as into it as Kate and I were, even on our third watch through. At some point after the first episode, Jeremy took the liberty to blow up Barry’s air mattress, and without his bony-ass legs kicking me on the couch, I fell asleep.
It was a true Harvey slumber party, Kate sleeping with me in my bed and Jeremy remaining on Barry’s air mattress until morning. When morning came, though, I found a sort of ache in my chest, wishing Barry was here instead.
The team won the first away game the next afternoon, a kind of brutal trampling of Dallas, a goal and two assists coming from Barry. If anyone had been unsure about his trade before, they weren’t anymore. Barry had quickly secured team sweetheart status for most fans.
Jeremy didn’t stay for a movie after scooping Junior’s litterthe next night, and I was half asleep when my phone rang with an incoming FaceTime from the man I was pretending not to be thinking about.
There was no amount of fast primping I could do that would make me look less like I was in my pajamas ready to go to bed, so I just swiped the screen to answer and hoped he wasn’t, I don’t know, at a bar with the hockey team or something.
“Hi,” I said when his face appeared on screen. Not in a bar, thank God, but instead in a hotel room, shirtless and propped up against a headboard. So. Stupidly. Fucking. Hot.
“Hi,” he said back, a little smile on his face.
“Congrats on the win.”
“Thank you.”
“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”
“I went out for dinner with the guys, but we have another flight tomorrow, so I thought I’d get my beauty sleep.”
“Ah. Beauty sleep,” I echoed. Probably hearing Barry’s voice, Junior meowed and jumped onto the bed, walking up my side and lying on my shoulder. “Junior misses you, obviously.”
