Page 8 of Getting Over You

“I work at a coffee shop, dumbass,” EJ says, his face twisting into a mocking expression as he looks over the grounds I threw in. “You think we need that shit?”

“I need this shit,” I say, waving him off as we continue on. “I don’t trust your coffee.”

“You’re going to mess with me the whole time you’re here, aren’t you?” EJ holds up two different brands of macaroni as he says this. I point to the brand I recognize, and he tosses it over my head, into the cart.

I snicker. “That depends. Will you stop busting my balls about the women I sleep with?”

“Will you admit you’re capable of feeling things and that you aren’t just a sex robot?”

“Will you stop answering my questions with questions?” My jaw ticks.

“Will you?” my brother challenges, eyebrows raised. We’re deadlocked.

I give up, sauntering past him, eyes locked on the freezer section. “I’m grabbing pizzas. Complaints?”

“Yes, complaints. But only if you grab anything besides stuffed crust.”

“I hate stuffed crust,” I say.

“It’s my apartment you’re squatting in while you lick your wounds,” EJ counters. “We’re buying what I want.”

“For your information, jackass, there are no wounds to nurse.” I shake my head at EJ, stopping in front of the deep dish. EJ pushes past me and reaches into the freezer for a stuffed crust pizza. “I’m here on business.”

“I’m older,” he says. “So, regardless, we’re getting stuffed crust.”

Tail tucked, I follow my brother through the store.

“Is that why you’re in this place?” I ask him when we get to produce.

EJ halts in the middle of the canned goods. “Huh?”

“You’ve got wounds to nurse. That’s why you got the hell out of Houston, right?”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Bro, no. You know I needed to just be me for a while. I love Mom, and I love Uncle Eddy and Aunt Mae. Fuck, I loveyou,but I’m better off doing my own thing.”

“The same could be said for me,” I counter. “Doing my own thing here. But are you really doing your own thing? You and Rory seem—”

“Are you really doing your own thing if you’re sleeping in my guest bedroom?” EJ cuts in. “If you’re done asking me about becoming Ms. Independent, I’d like to fucking shop now.” Clearly, I’ve gotten under his skin. Someone that isn’t frustrated with their little brother wouldn’t beeline so angrily toward some bananas.

Fuck me. This is going to be a long ass summer.

“What’s your plan?” EJ asks later. I’m exhausted from hauling my shit up his apartment steps. I don’t want to talk. At all. I’m just fine splayed out over his couch, left to my own devices.

“You mean like for my life?” I ask.

“No, fuckwad. I mean, while I’m at work. Do I have to be concerned that you’ll depress yourself over your failed dreams, and I’ll regret leaving you alone here?”

I guffaw. “No, my dreams haven’t failed yet.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m serious,” I say.

EJ smiles wide, satisfied. He grabs his keys and pulls the door open, pausing. “Oh shit. My friend from the coffee shop is coming over when I get out tonight. She’s bringing her boss’s daughter, remember?”

“You mean the one you undress with your eyes and her friend, who we presume will be hot?” I ask.

EJ blows out a breath.. “Yes, Cade. Those girls. So, maybe you’ll get lucky.”

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