Page 8 of Frisco

The chorus had two moves—a hair primp and a hair flip.

At the end, both jumped in the air, and it was impressive. They finished as if they were Saturday Night Live cheerleaders.

“Hey!” Harper chirped, his smile wide.

“Hey.” My greeting was a lot less chipper, and his smile dimmed.

Instant regret.

I flashed a grin, trying to ease some of the shittiness I felt. “That was amazing, you guys.”

In perfect sync, they turned to each other. They pulled their shades down an inch and shared a look. Then, they moved.

Harper took my purse and keys and maneuvered me into a chair. “Sit.”

Aly’s eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. She gave a firm nod. “You need alcohol.”

I loved my roommates, a lot. The three of us had been friends since high school.

Harper had gone to design school and came back to start his own business. His schooling had been for clothing design, but he had a niche now where he designed specialty costumes and that was for anyone. People ordered for high school plays, community productions, or even a really amazing Halloween party. Aly did dispatch for our local fire station—and live cooking segments on her social media, which Harper co-hosted at times.

I was the sampler of everything—food, liquor, whatever they needed. We all had our sacrifices to make.

When Foley (my ex) cheated on me, Harper and Aly had both showed up on my doorstep that night. And when I say cheat, he was really cheating. He had three women in the bed when I walked in.

And if that’s what I found, I shuddered to think how long it had been happening. Surely he hadn’t just gone right into a foursome? Was he the cheating overachiever? Had there been a single cheat partner to start with? Just one lady?

But back to the scene I’d walked in on.

Two were going down on each other, and he was in the other, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs, watching as she did something else, which I didn’t see because my mind had snapped at that point. I was looking for a weapon. There was a lot of yelling and threats, but I didn’t leave. That was important to me. I’d held my ground and sent them all packing—Foley literally. I’d been giving my house the sage of all saging when my doorbell rang. I’d assumed it was Foley, but nope.

I broke down when I saw how much they’d packed. Harper had three rolling suitcases.

Aly said she had plenty of vacation time from the fire station, and could do her segments anywhere. Once I made the decision to move back—at least until I got my feet back under me—they hadn’t given me a choice. They moved me into their basement room. Harper had the top floor. Aly had the main floor. It was a big enough house that all of us had our own space.

We’d had a fourth roommate for a while, Harper’s boyfriend, but they’d ended things a week ago, so now it was back to the three of us.

“What happened?” Harper asked, eyeing me in my spot on the chair.

Just one question from him in that knowing voice of his, and I told them everything.

The fight.

Me snapping at Noah.

Me commiserating about the soup that was damaged.

Me talking with Macy.

I did some venting about Otis, because who wouldn’t?

Then the finale, Shane’s visit, and when I was done, both of them sat in total silence.

I’d told them almost everything.

“There were…” Harper began.

“Bikers?” Aly asked. “Like motorcycle bikers? Like—”

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