When Stars Collide (Second Chance Romance #2) - Sara Furlong-Burr Page 0,45
thought she was different. And to find out she’s not is really making me question my judgment.”
“Yep, Jo has that effect on people.” I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, offering one to the woman. She shook her head, uninterested. “Look, Jo isn’t a bad person, she’s just not a great girlfriend. She’s indecisive, erratic, and … well, young. She doesn’t know what she wants out of life yet. But when she finally figures it out, I have no doubt she’ll be everything you saw in her that night.”
“I just hope I’m here to see it.”
“I hope so, too.” I raised an eyebrow, gesturing to her.
“Madison,” she responded.
“Madison,” I repeated, the name sounding familiar to me. “Oh, hey,” I snatched the pink blouse from the stool on which it had been resting since the day I came home and found it on the floor, “is this yours?”
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t think I would ever get this back.” Madison took the blouse, a giddiness coming to life in her personality. “This is my absolute favorite top, and to be honest, part of the reason why I came here.”
“I don’t blame you. I was going to hold on to it with the hope that one day my boobs would grow in and I could wear it myself.”
She smiled. “You’re a good person.” She emulated the gesture I had done just moments ago.
“Mena.”
“Yes, that’s right. Well, Mena, I can see why Jo thinks so highly of you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m pretty great. Hey, speaking of Jo, you wouldn’t by chance still have her hoodie you wore home that day, would you?”
“Yup, I still have it. She’s just not getting it back until she returns my texts.”
“I respect the way you operate, Madison.”
*****
Madison had long since vacated our apartment by the time Jo arrived home.
“Days like today are why alcohol was invented,” she said, making a beeline to the refrigerator, where she grabbed a beer and then joined me on the couch.
“If you would have been here two hours ago, you’d be drinking something harder than that.”
She raised an eyebrow at me. The thing about Jo was that I could always tell when her wheels were spinning. In that moment, the hamster was running at full speed.
“Do tell,” she spoke with a fair amount of caution in her voice.
“Let’s just say I had the privilege of meeting Madison in person.”
Jo scrunched her face, her eyebrows furrowed. “Madison, Madison, Madi—”
“Pink blouse girl.”
“Oh! Madison, yes. I called her all kinds of things that night, but Madison wasn’t one of them.”
“How do you sleep at night?”
“With both eyes closed.”
I shook my head. “I returned her blouse to her.”
“Did you get my hoodie back?”
“She said she would return it to you when you text her back.”
“Why did you give her the blouse back, then?”
“Because I’m an adult, Jo.”
“Well, life certainly is a bitch today.” Jo lobbed my pillow at me, which I deflected with my arm.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. Madison seems nice enough. She only showed me a hint of crazy, far less than the national average.”
Jo shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not looking for anything right now. And neither was she, or so I thought.” She took a swig from the bottle. “One-night stands are rarely ever meant to be long-term commitments.”
I thought back to the first time Peter and I slept together. We’d never discussed what would happen afterwards, it just worked out as naturally as the sun rises and sets.
“Do you want to go out?”
“Excuse me?”
“Out. Like to a bar. This cheap beer isn’t quite doing this day the justice it deserves.”
I’d only been out with Jo one other time, shortly after she moved into my apartment after answering my ad for a roommate. Out of the dozen or so who’d applied, she’d pretty much been the only one who I was certain I wouldn’t have to worry about murdering me in my sleep—if that tells you anything about the types of applicants I received. After moving in, Jo decided it would be a good idea to get to know each other better and insisted that a bar setting was the best possible place for that to happen. At the end of the night, I’d learned exactly two things about Jo: she could out drink most of the men I knew, and she could Exorcist-style projectile vomit.