Page 19 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

Rosie: A guy has an existential crisis, so he leaves his entire family to explore a new life in New York City, falls in love with a selfish woman he cheats on (she dies), makes connections with an old college frenemy who he betrays for a promotion (frenemy also dies). And finally after a natural disaster leaves our hero powerless in this world of money and prestige he’s created for himself, he finally recognizes the futility of finding meaning in life, accepts that he feels no regret for his life’s decisions, and swears to the absolute necessity of stepping on people in the grand pursuit of self. (And then he dies.) The end.

Charlie: So pretty much the same plot as last month’s book?

Rosie: Hey. That one was about a woman, not a man.

Charlie: You’re right. So, so different.

Charlie: Why do we go to this book club again?

Rosie: The grand pursuit of self, of course. And Max Eriksson.

Charlie: *eye roll emoji*

Rosie: He can’t help it that he’s brilliant and sensitive and handsome and that he’s stuck here in Winterhaven.

Charlie:Gag. I love you. But gag.

Charlie: Hey, can you tell Dylan to answer my text.

Rosie: Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen.

Charlie: I can’t believe he didn’t tell me he was moving back home. What about cousin code???

Rosie: I have no cousins, and know nothing about this code of which you speak.

Rosie: Speaking of cousins, though, I finished Pride and Prejudice last night. I’ll bring it for you tonight.

Charlie: First, HOW is that speaking of cousins? And second, better put it in a brown paper bag so Max doesn’t see that you read romance.

Rosie: It’s a CLASSIC. (And didn’t they marry their cousins back then?)

Charlie: It’s still ROMANCE. (And I think they did, but GROSS.)

Rosie: I’ll come by your house before book club. I have a plan. (Dylan might be cousin-marriage worthy.)

Charlie: *groan* I don’t know if I should be scared or excited. (I’m going to pretend I never read that last part, you sicko.)

Rosie: Both. (hehe)

Sleeping on the futonhad been less than ideal.

Dylan finding me asleep on the chair downstairs (wearing one of Bennett’s fishing excursion company’s fishing shirts, crumpled and unwashed) … I’d rather not think about that.

Falling when I was trying to make my escape, and having Dylan spy my Great Works of Art underwear? The sooner all the parties concerned could scrub that from their memories, the better.

I breathed in the scent of my familiar apartment. Though the scent wasn’t so familiar anymore. A deep, masculine not altogether unpleasant smell (like pine mixed with roses), filled the space now.

Lizzy was asleep on her bed in the corner, curled under her heated blanket. I’d meant to grab it last night before I left Dylan to my apartment, but he’d looked so tired (and okay, cranky, and I knew from years of brothers in that mood that it was best to just leave him be until he got some good sleep) that I’d kept my mouth shut.

She must have sneaked in while I was showing him the apartment, and he let her stay all night. I knew he secretly liked her. The Beast had a soft heart after all.

I went into my room first to get my suitcase and packed it full of all of my clothes. I packed my Kindle, so my books could stay, except forPride and Prejudice. I had plans for that book. I grabbed my favorite pillow from the bed—leaving my full body pillow for Dylan—and snatched the only-one-in-existence, softest blanket in the world, which I’d stolen from my brothers’ cabin last time I was there.

One step into the bathroom made me realize that the Great Works of Art underwear flashing incident was the least of my problems. My bras dangled like pink and nude party banners from the door handle and towel hook, a pair of full-cheek coverage silk panties was crumpled in the corner, and an open, super-size box of tampons sat on the counter right next to the half-eaten bar of dark chocolate with almonds.

At least he couldn’t see my “Make Me Sob” playlist on my phone, or he’d have a real good idea of how my day was going before he showed up yesterday.

It took a few trips, but I moved most of my things to the evil-twin version of this apartment next door. I hadn’t given Dad my tips from last week yet, which meant I had a little extra money for a bed. I’d decided sometime last night while trying to fall asleep on a chair that the right thing to do was allow Dylan to stay in my nicer apartment until his lease was up.

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