Page 116 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

“I live with him.”

“And I live in a studio apartment in the Valley. What’s your point?”

“I just see more of him-”literally, “-than you do.”

“Rude.”

“The truth hurts.” I round the corner onto a street with plenty of parallel spots next to the curb. It’s a short walk to the juice bar from there. “Want me to get you something or do you want to come in with me?”

“You won’t get my order right.”

An hour later, after sitting with our smoothies at Kreation and grabbing a couple of fresh juices to go, Isla is back at her place and I head home. Sophie’s car was still in the driveway when I left this morning, but it’s gone now, despite the fact that it’s stupid early. I’d still be asleep on a normal day.

“Hey, where were you?” Brody calls without looking my way. He’s sitting on the couch wearing only a pair of gray sweats when I walk in the door.

“Just went for a drive. Clear my head and all that.” The lie doesn’t come easily, but Isla is like family to me and if she doesn’t want to bother Brody with his broken promise, I won’t be the one to fuck it up.

He stands from the couch and turns to face me. Without Sophie distracting me, I’m struck by how much he has changed since we moved in together five years ago. Pushing him to hit the gym with me a few times a week, cooking for both of us regularly–all because he won’t let me pay rent, the stubborn ass–seems to have done him some good. I wasn’t paying attention last night, but now I have to stop myself from staring.

My phone begins to buzz in my pocket and I remember the scheduled post that probably just went live. It’ll have my phone going crazy with notifications–new subscriptions, new purchases, comments, likes, and direct messages are already flooding in. I pull the phone out and turn the ringer off entirely. I can’t handle that kind of stimulation right now.

“You want some breakfast? I’m makin’ waffles.” The Shrek reference goes over Brody’s head which means he’s far more lost in thought than I realized.

“I’ll never say no to waffles,” he chuckles, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. “Are you really ok with last night?”

“Shouldn’tIbe askingyouthat?” I hang my keys on the ring by the door and walk around to the pantry to find the dry ingredients.

“I suppose so. I’m sure nothing we did is new for you, huh?”

“Not at all,” I confirm, walking out of the pantry with reusable containers filled with flour, sugar, and baking powder as well as the bottle of homemade vanilla that I’ve been refilling for lord knows how long. “So that leaves you.” I round the corner and set the items down on the island before looking back at Brody. “You’ve had time to think, so…?”

Fuck, that flush in his cheeks and chest is going to steal my breath. I have to turn back to the task at hand, walking to the fridge to find the milk, eggs, and butter.

“It, er, was fun.”

Understatement.

“It was,” I agree. I remain in front of the open fridge, unable to look at him until he finishes the thought.

He takes a steadying breath and continues.

“I feel like I’m moving really fast,” he admits and my heart shatters.

I hadn’t even thought about that. It’s been a little more than a week since he wentall the waywith Sophie. I’ve gotta get him to use better language outside the bedroom. Or living room. I mutter a curse under my breath, hoping he can’t hear.

“I don’t regret it,” Brody adds quickly. “But you and I have never- I mean, I knowyou’vebeen with guys, solo too. I don’t know-”

“It’s ok,” I cut him off, closing the double doors so I can see him again. I lean against the cold, stainless steel finish. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was fun. But if you aren’t ready for something like that, I won’t push. Sophie definitely won’t.”

“Yeah.” Just the thought of her is enough to bring a smile to each of our faces. He rubs the back of his neck again and looks down. When he eventually looks back at me, those emerald eyes of his seem lighter as if he’s gotten a massive weight off of his chest. “Thanks, man.”

“Just let me know if you change your mind.” I wink, trying to add some levity, and Brody chuckles. “Flavored or plain today?”

“Plain.” Brody comes to join me in the kitchen, watching from his usual stool at the kitchen island. “Music?”

“Obviously.”

Brody connects his phone to the Bluetooth speaker that sits in the far corner near the sink, pulling up a playlist calledIn da Clerrrrb. It’s mine, filled with a bunch of songs I have affectionately taken to calling my ‘pump-up jams’ because I typically use this playlist in the gym. The music isn’t loud, just enough that I can pick out the lyrics.

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