without argument and ignore the slight smirk that tugs at the left side of her lips that makes a second little dimple appear. I scoot over and pat the seat next to me. She sits, stretching her legs out before crossing her ankles.
“Rose’s dad is … complicated.”
“You say that a lot to describe people.”
“People are complicated. I don’t know why we can’t just be simple. Eat cake. Play in the sun. Be kind. Rinse and recycle.”
“Rose doesn’t get along with him?”
Liv’s gaze climbs to meet mine. I haven’t seen so much hesitance from her since the first morning I met her when I was sitting in the kitchen, and she accused me of wanting to sleep with Rose again. “Rose’s dad divorced her mom when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. He helped, but the way he left, abandoning twenty years of marriage right when she got sick—it really messed with Rose. She was angry with him for a really long time. Hell, she’s still really angry with him.”
“That’s fucked up.”
She nods. “There might have been more to it. I really don’t know many of the details. I only knew Rose for a few months before it happened, and though her parents weren’t all over each other, they didn’t seem to be unhappy, but who knows. So much goes on behind closed doors, and unless people work at it, it can be easy to drift apart.”
“Is this why Rose doesn’t date?”
“I think so, but she won’t say that. And maybe it’s not, you know?” She knows or at least has an inclination, but I can tell she’s closing the box on this conversation and reaching for her cake.
“So, you go with her now when she sees her dad?”
She looks surprised, her brow creasing as she slowly blinks. “She doesn’t need me to go, I just … try and support her and talk too much when things get tense or too quiet.”
Juliet jumps up and walks around the bottom of the bed, digging her little claws in with each step, her purr sounding like a rusty boat motor.
“Did I mention that sleeping here comes with a cat?”
“You left that part out.”
“Yeah, so, this random dude showed up here one day and just left this cat.”
“Random dude?” I repeat shaking my head as I dig into the cake and drown out the thought by flipping on the TV. “Think we can find any Russian espionage shows to help me improve my accent?”
“I don’t think living in Russia could help your Russian accent.” Her smile sparks, and when I try to look offended, she bursts into laughter, nearly dropping her cake.
So instead, I lay on my Jersey accent, saying every word people have repeated since I’ve moved out west. The TV remains quiet in the background, unwatched as we share stories and laugh until that hesitance that has been shadowing each of our exchanges vanishes.
“I should go to bed,” Liv says. “Rose probably won’t be back tonight. I don’t really know what her plan was.” She looks at the large clock on the wall. “It’s late enough, so I’d imagine she’ll stay there.”
Juliet sits up as Liv carries our dishes to the kitchen. I follow, placing the ice pack back into the freezer and finding a glass to fill with water. She does the same.
“Night, Liv.”
Her smile is easy and pure. “Night, Arlo.”
Juliet follows her down the short hall to her room. I dig for my toothbrush and nearly run into Liv as she comes out of the bathroom, her sweats replaced with the same pair of short shorts I’d seen her wear the first day we met, a tight, navy-blue tank top, and spearmint on her breath as she says, “Sorry.”
We do a dance as we both try to get out of the way, and then I stop, extending a hand so she can go first. She strides past me, and I try to avoid looking at her legs and the fact she’s not wearing a bra as thoughts of my dream from last night percolate, drawing image after image of Liv on her back, Liv on her knees, Liv bent over my bed.
I splash cold water over my face to bring myself back to reality and brush my teeth.
The pullout bed isn’t bad, and tonight I’m so damn tired after my broken sleep last night that I don’t even hunt for my headphones to listen to a comedy channel before I close my eyes.
A giggle wakes me up. Then a door