I turned, eyebrows raised. “Jesus, can’t I make conversation?”
She pursed her lips.
Living together was going to be impossible.
“Look, we need to talk.” She put her cup down and rested her hip against the side of the island. She reached up and tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear, then sighed. “This is a bad i—”
Her phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting her. She snatched it up and groaned when she saw the screen, but she answered it anyway.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s up? …Yeah, he’s here.”
Ava quickly tapped the screen and put the phone on speaker because Reagan’s voice filled the kitchen.
“Hey,” Reagan said. “Noah just called me from work. He spoke to one of the nurses at the hospital.”
“About that woman from last night?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “It was an accidental drug overdose. They gave her some Narcan in the ambulance and saved her life.”
“Was the nurse allowed to say that?”
“No. He flirted it out of her, and yes, I am going to have his balls for that.”
Ava snorted. “You’ve had them since the day you met.”
“Not the point. I’m not happy.”
“I don’t imagine the almost-dead woman is happy either,” I said before they got too carried away. “Thanks for letting us know.”
“Don’t mention it. Hey, Ava, I’m slammed at the store this morning, and nobody can help me except Aunt Bethel. Can you come down for an hour and watch the register?”
Ava sighed. “Are you going to pay me?”
“I’ll give you ten bucks and buy you lunch.”
“Twenty, and I want real food, not a sandwich in a Tupperware box like last time.”
“Ugh. Fine. You’ve got a deal. Only because I don’t want any more doctor appointments in the book.” The line crackled. “Bye, Ethan.”
“Bye, Reagan.”
“I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Ava.” Reagan hung up.
Ava sighed and put her phone down on the island. “So much for my day off.”
I smirked. “What did you want to talk about?”
She waved her hand. “It’ll have to wait. I need a shower, and you need some clothes.”
“I don’t need clothes!” I called after her.
“Yes, you do! Before I throw up!”
Just for that, I didn’t go back into my room as I’d planned. Instead, I went over to the sofa and lay back, grabbing the remote to turn on the television. I watched twenty-five minutes of sports news before Ava came back out from her room.
Her black hair was now in a braid that hung over one shoulder, still wet, and she had her phone clutched in her hand. “You should know that I’m now the proud owner of a picture of your ballsac.”
I jerked, immediately covering myself. “What?”
She shrugged. “Leverage.”
“Leverage for fucking what?”
“The hedgehog.” She smirked. “Let the hedgehog run free, and I’ll do some freeing of my own.”
“There are laws against that kind of stuff, Ava.”
“Not if my friends happen to accidentally see it and then tell people you severely lack in that department. That’s not revenge porn.”
I glared at her. “You wanna play this game? All right, let’s play. Just because the hedgehog will stay in its cage, doesn’t mean I can’t mess with you in other ways.”
She pursed her lips. “We’ll see.”
With that, she spun around and stalked out of the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her.
And I grinned.
Messing with her was going to be fun.
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
AVA
Passive Aggressive Bullshit
My candles were in the wrong places.
I dropped my purse on the sofa and stormed over to the window. Yep. I was right. One of the candles had been moved an inch to the right, and another had been nudged backward.
Fucking Ethan.
I was going to kill him.
All right, so I’d started this with the whole picture of his balls—which didn’t exist—but this was just downright mean.
Passive. Aggressive. Bullshit.
If that was how he wanted to do this… as he said, we’d play. I grew up with a brother. I was used to doing things to piss the other off. If he wanted to move my candles, I’d get back at him in my own way.
I knew exactly where to start, too, but I didn’t have much time. My ‘hour’ at The Wright Bouquet had turned into four when Preston’s car broke down and he couldn’t do the deliveries so Reagan had to.
I marched into the kitchen and grabbed hold of the sugar canister. The lid made a popping sound as I pulled it off to look inside. There wasn’t a whole lot of sugar in there, so with a nod, I carried it over to the trashcan and tipped every last granule into it.
I set it on the counter and pulled the tub of salt down from the cupboard. It was fairly new, and I tipped it into the sugar canister until it was a third full like it’d been before.
I didn’t take sugar in my coffee unless I was hungover and needed a kick. Since I had no plans to drink tonight, I knew it’d ruin Ethan’s morning tomorrow.
I was all about that.
I mean, I could ask him to move out, or I could just ruin his life.
Since he seemed hell-bent on ruining mine, it’d be rude not to return the favor.
I put the lid back on the canister and put it in place between the coffee one and the tea one that was actually full of cookies.
Speaking of cookies…
I pulled three from the jar and replaced the lid. I needed a sugar hit after the day I’d had, and I also needed to decide what to make for dinner.
Did I have to cook for Ethan, too? Or were we each responsible for our own food?
I cooked too much food all the time. A bit like the people who cooked pasta for two but made enough to feed an entire classroom. I was like that but with everything.
It didn’t really explain why I made six enchiladas for myself every time, but whatever.
A perusal of the fridge turned up not a whole lot, but as far as enchiladas went, I had everything for those.
Hmm.
I fetched my phone from my purse and pulled up Ethan’s number.
ME: What time do you finish work? Definitely 5?
His response was swift.
ETHAN: Yeah, 5. Why?
ME: I’m making enchiladas. Did you want some?
ETHAN: Are you going to poison me?
ME: Even if I were, why would I tell you?
ETHAN: To be nice?
ME: Murderers don’t give advance notice.
ME: Nor are they nice.
ME: Can you answer the question?
ETHAN: I don’t know if I trust you not to poison me.
ME: To paraphrase the Beast—then go ahead and fucking starve.
ETHAN: If you’re talking about the Disney dude, I don’t think he said ‘fucking.’
ME: That’s why I said paraphrase.
ETHAN: Right.
ME: Look, I’m going to make a ton anyway because I make too much of everything, but I was asking to be nice.