Page 27 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

Rosie

Forrester Sibling Group Chat

Rosie: Futons were created by a serial killer.

Haydn: By someone who hates sugar. Even the kind in fruit.

Bennett: By my second grade teacher who pointed out that I’d peed my pants in front of the whole class.

Jules: By my assistant who listens to the same song on repeat for days at a time, without headphones.

Jules: Wait, R. You were just singing the futons praises to me.

Rosie: In a few, very select instances, I can be wrong about things. It’s rare, so don’t get used to it.

I groaned and coveredmy face as the hot shower water ran over me, embarrassed at my own self.Why, Rosie? Why do you do things like this?

My fall at the bookstore played over and over in my mind on a loop, helped along by the throbbing pain in my tail bone. And did any of my efforts or pain change how Max looked at me?

If anything, it only confirmed to him he couldn’t take me seriously.

What would Elizabeth Bennet do?

Well, not fall off a ladder, for starters. But that ship had sailed.

She’d be witty. Charming without intending to be. Intriguing. Read. Take a turn about the room. Reject an embarrassing proposal. Bring around an unsuitable love interest.

The answer had to be in there somewhere.

When the hot water ran out, I got dressed in the buffalo plaid flannel pajamas I’d retrieved from my apartment earlier today. Pajamas withpantsthis time, thank you very much.

My Mona Lisa underwear was marked safe from the eyes of a certain muscular neighbor.

He could pick you up.Charlie’s assessment of Dylan ran through my head again as I pictured him doing pull-ups in the window, those biceps bulging in a way that made me understand for the first time why it was referred to as bicepcurls.

Luckily for Max, the ability to carry me around like a queen on a palanquin wasn’t necessarily on my Significant Other Qualifications List.

Not that there was an actual, physical list. My brothers would have sniffed out something as humiliating as that in seconds.

But there was a mental list, and it was mostly based on Jack fromWhile You Were Sleeping. Including the “we have an inside joke” smirk he gives Lucy when Joe Jr accuses him of leaning. I am a total sucker for the smirk. And the leaning.

But picking me up? No, sir. Not a requirement.

I’d missed a phone call from Dad while I was in the shower. I called him back and put the phone on speaker while I pulled my wet hair into two braids.

“Heya, Rosie,” Dad said halfway through the first ring.

“Hi, Dad.”

“You know I hate asking this of you, hon, but I’m out of money.”

My stomach dropped. “Already?” I’d just given him most of my tips from the restaurant last night.

“Alaska isn’t cheap,” he said, his voice edgier than before. “I can leave and find a job suited to my skills—”

“No, I’ll figure it out.” If Dad left, I’d lose my chance to have a relationship with him. Unless he decided to come back in another decade.

“Thank you,” he said warmly. “See you tomorrow for lunch?”

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