The Girl Next Door - Emma Hart Page 0,20
have to feed me. Besides, the baby is hungry. It told me.”
“Ivy, the baby is the size of a pea. I doubt it’s telling you anything.”
“How do you know how big it is?”
“It’s this novel idea called the Internet—you can search and find out anything you want to know. And some things you don’t.”
“Very funny. I want some toast. Please. On setting three with lots of butter.”
“Setting three? So you want it toasted for three minutes?”
I frowned. “Is that what the numbers are for?”
“Yeah. They’re a timer.”
“Huh. I never knew that,” I mused. Which was ridiculous, because wasn’t it so obvious?
“I read it on the internet,” Kai said flippantly. “You should try it sometime.”
Scoffing, I said, “I use the internet. Mostly to diagnose myself with deadly diseases and watch cat videos, but I use it.”
“Seems like a productive use of your time.”
“Oh, it was. I diagnosed myself with four different deadly illnesses before I gave up and finally admitted that I was pregnant.”
He peered over his shoulder from the doorway and raised an eyebrow. “A deadly disease was preferable to being pregnant?”
“No. But it would have been an easier conversation with my grandmother.”
“Hard to argue with that.” He shrugged and left, hopefully to make his way to my kitchen to make my toast.
If he left, we were going to have our first fight as a fake married couple.
I rolled over and felt for my phone. It was on the nightstand where I’d plugged it in to charge last night, so I pulled out the cable and pulled up my texts to Tori.
ME: I need to get fake married. Help a girl out.
Her response was immediate, as I’d expected. Unlike me, she actually was a morning person. Something about her being able to get graphic work to her clients before they were even in the office.
TORI: What’s up?
ME: I need you to photoshop pictures of me and Kai “getting married” so Grams doesn’t end up back in the ER.
TORI: I can’t see how you being pregnant outside marriage will constipate her, but okay
TORI: What do you want and when do you want it?
ME: Us looking like we just got married at the town hall, maybe a gratuitous shot of us kissing
TORI: I’m gonna need a photo of you kissing.
ME: What???
TORI: I’m not a fucking painter, Ivy. It’s no big deal to move your heads onto someone else’s body, but I need you kissing in order to be able to do that
ME: I knew this was a terrible idea
TORI: Relax. It’s not like I’m asking for a sex tape.
ME: Oh, well that’s relaxing.
TORI: It just needs to be a peck. That’s it. Two seconds. Do a burst shot if you have to to get a good one. Just kiss the guy.
TORI: It’s not like you haven’t done worse
ME: Oh, shut up
TORI: Careful, or I’ll tell Grams you’re faking it
ME: You wouldn’t dare.
TORI: No, probably not. I don’t want her wrath either.
ME: Gotta go. My toast is coming.
TORI: *kissing emoji*
TORI: Don’t forget! Smoochy smoochy smooch!
Ugh.
She was insufferable. I had no idea how I’d lasted twenty-three years of friendship without killing her.
“Your toast, Your Highness.” Kai produced a baking tray with a glass of water, glass of orange juice, and a plate with two slices of hot, buttered toast.
“Why are you using a baking tray?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t find a real tray and I only have two hands. It’s clean, don’t worry. I scrubbed it.”
“You scrubbed it?”
“It was that or face your pregnant wrath for getting grease all over your bed.”
That was a fair point.
I smiled. Really smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled right back, his eyes crinkling. “I have to shower and change quickly before work. Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” I bit into the toast and moaned. “So good.”
He blinked at me. “Are you working tonight?”
I nodded. “Five ‘til eleven. As long as I don’t, you know, again.” I held two fingers up to my mouth and mimed throwing up. “Fingers crossed!”
“You have such a weird outlook on life,” he muttered. “All right, text me if you nee anything.”
“I will.”
He hovered.
“Why are you hovering? You’re not a bird. Stop it.”
“I know. Never mind.” He waved his hand and turned away from the bedroom. “I’ll talk to you later.”
He was gone before I had a chance to say goodbye.
That was weird.
I bit into my toast as the front door closed. This was officially the weirdest relationship I’d ever had with anybody, and I didn’t even know what kind of relationship