Page 6 of Head Over Heels

“Never gonna happen,” I say, not for the first time.

Brooks raises his eyebrows. “So what was that about before? When I was appreciating the view?”

“It was about how just because I don’t want to get with her doesn’t mean I want her to get with a guy whose idea of commitment is dinneranda movie before sex.”

I’ve taken so much shit about Liv since we became friends, I’ve got my retorts down to a science.

The thing is, it’s not that hard, in these days of Tinder, to find a way to scratch an itch. Most of the women I meet, they’re interested in getting serious—in settling down, having a kid or two, leaving the whole dating scene behind. But a woman who genuinely wants to be “just friends”?

Rarest beast on earth.

Liv is one of a kind.

Chapter 3

Liv

Katie answers the door.

“Hi, Livvy. I’m watchingFrozen,” the world’s most adorable five-year-old proclaims proudly, pushing strands of blond hair out of her face. The strands fall back into her eyes, and I kneel to tuck them behind her ears.

“What part are you at?”

“Elsa’s ice palace. She’s singing ‘Let It Go.’ ” Katie sings a few lines, twirling wildly around the living room, arms thrown out. She finishes with a curtsy.

I stifle a giggle. “That’s my favorite part. I brought you spaghetti.” I display the brown takeout bag.

“Yum, sketti!”

Katie turns her attention back to the unfurling grandeur of Elsa’s ice palace.

“Hey, Liv,” Chase calls. “In the kitchen.”

I head that way. Chase’s house always feels like finally pulling on sweats and taking off my makeup at the end of a long day. It’s super comfy. Not my style at all, or reallyanystyle—a mishmash of well-worn furniture and rugs—but the whole thing feels a lot like wrapping up in a fleece blanket and watching a good chick flick. Which I’ve done maybe a hundred times on Chase’s armchair by now, while he watches his action movies on his own laptop on the couch a couple of feet away. It’s our ritual.

This house—and Chase and Katie, of course—is definitely one of the things I’ll miss most when I leave Seattle. It’s weird to think that I’ve been in Seattle more than three years—longer than I’ve lived anywhere else. Maybe it’s the side effect of having moved around so much when I was a kid in foster homes, but I don’t like to stay put too long. That’s why I’ve been focusing my job search on everywhereexceptSeattle.

In the kitchen, Chase pours me red wine in a juice glass. He doesn’t drink wine, but he keeps it around for me, which is one of the many things that make him a good friend. “Cheers.” He clinks his scotch against my glass and sighs heavily, drawing my gaze to his face. Chase has beautiful brown eyes, flecked with darker brown, gold, and green, fringed with long eyelashes. But right now they have circles under them.

“You okay?” I ask him. I’ve had a hell of a day myself, but he looks worse than I feel.

He brushes his hand through his reddish-brown hair, making it all stand on end. Chase has that kind of not-quite curly hair that won’t behave, but because he’s a guy, no one gives a shit. When he rumples it and it’s all over the place, he looks hot. I say that objectively, because I can appreciate a hot guy when I see one, not because I personally crush on Chase. I know most people don’t think men and women can be friends—for the record, I was one of them until I met Chase. In this case it works because we both know we’d crash and burn as a couple.

“Yeah, just…Emily left. She said she needed to sleep in her own bed and have some downtime. She said she’d come back Tuesday if I needed her, but that still leaves tomorrow and Saturday. Mike says I can bring Katie in if I need to, for a couple of days—I need to find someone permanent, and I don’t really have any leads.”

“I’ll help,” I say. “And in the meantime, I could watch Katie tomorrow and Friday. Turns out the Gershels want me out right away.”

“What?”

“Her sister lost her waitressing job and she’s going to take over for me, and they need the guest room, and—anyway, I could probably kick up a stink about my contract but I didn’t want to. I’ll crash with Eve.”

“On the couch of death?”

Eve’s couch is so sprung that staying on it between nanny jobs is somewhere between uncomfortable andtook a year off my life.

“Yeah. I just hope she doesn’t bring anyone home. Those walls arethin.”

Chase grimaces. “Fun, fun, fun. Well, if you can’t sleep, we can both be insomniacs. Watch movies together by text. Good practice for when you’re in Denver.”

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