Page 25 of The Drop

My head is swimming, and not only because of too much to drink, but because of Brooke.

Chapter Twelve

Brooke

I slept in Cami’s room last night once we got back, as boxes and furniture still dominate my bedroom and much of the apartment.

Her room is the only one clear of my stuff, even the guy’s place has my furniture in it. Except for my mattress, Cami won’t let Adam near it.

I stub my toe on the edge of my childhood keyboard as I step into the living room. I had completely forgotten about that. Mom wanted me to pick up an instrument, but we quickly realised I lacked the hand-eye coordination to play piano or any instrument another failure to add to her book.

The dent we made yesterday feels tiny now as I stare around at the small pile of empty boxes in the corner. How do I condense my whole life down to a bedroom? I sigh, getting to work, breaking down the boxes and putting them outside before sitting cross-legged on the floor and starting on a box.

It’s another hour before Cami emerges, rubbing her eyes. I’m five boxes down already, and I’m listing some of thefurniture on Huntington U marketplace in between boxes to keep me sane.

“Wow, killing it,” she says as she steps over boxes to the kitchen, and I stand to join her, stretching, sitting cross-legged for too long is horrible.

A knock sounds at the door, so I head over to open it, and there stands the guy I’ve tried not to think about this morning, holding what looks like iced caramel lattes. We both just stand and stare at each other for a second before he lifts them toward me,

“Thought you could use some fuel to get through the morning.” He presses his lips together in an awkward smile, and I take it for what it is; let’s move forward and forget about last night.

Before I have time to respond, I hear his apartment door open behind him. “Move, move.” Adam and Bear come running across between our apartments and push him into the apartment from behind before Grant can even turn to look at them.

“What the hell?” Grant says with one hand, rebalancing the coffee we are now holding in the middle of us, and his other hand grabs my hip, moving us backwards. I’m squished between him and the wall. I immediately blush, not meeting his eye, choosing to look over his shoulder at Bear and Adam as they close the door behind him.

“Someone’s tagged Gunnar in a picture from last night.” Adam stumbles over to the sofa while Bear sits on the floor. Grant and I untangle from each other, and I pass him his coffee out of the holder before swiftly moving away.

“I’m sorry, but why is that an issue?” I say as I lower myself to perch on the sofa arm, as Grant finds a spot at the breakfast bar.

“He’s dancing in it, and there are other girls in the pic,” Bear says, rifling around in a box.

“Ooh, it’s when we were doing the photo shoot, Cami’s in it.” Adam holds his phone up so we can see.

“What?!” she squeaks, walking out of the kitchen to look at it. “Not again!”

“What do you mean, not again?” I turn toward her, frowning. “What am I missing?”

“Last time Cami and Gunnar were in a picture together, Sasha went nuts, ripped Gunnar to shreds, and messaged Cami, calling her every name under the sun,” Grant fills the gap for me.

“You never told me that.” I gasp. “Cam, what the hell?”

“It wasn’t that bad. It was when we first met.” She glares at Grant over her shoulder. “Anyway, Gunnar stepped in and explained who I was, and she seemed to chill about it.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I ask, picking up a striped top and going off-topic for a second. “Will this make me look like a sailor?”

“Yes, and yes,” Cami says, scrunching her nose up, “It’s always like that.”

“Someone should say something to him?” I say, throwing the top behind me without looking.

“No way, they’ve been together forever,” Grant chips in, and I hear the shredder going and turn to see him finishing the paperwork Gunnar started yesterday. “He always says it's just arough patch when we bring it up, we’ve just got to let him figure it out.”

“Well, looks like we are here for a while,” Adam announces, sighing, pulling a box towards him..

“You guys don’t have to help me do this,” I say, realising they’ve just started helping without me asking them. “I’ve got this.”

“We don’t mind,” Grant answers. “We don’t have practice till later.”

“Yeah, plus we can make it a game,” Adam pipes up. “Whoever finds the coolest item wins.”

---