Page 125 of Wild Love
“Fuckin’ gross. Leave a sock on the door or something,” West announces as he steps into the space. He lets out a low whistle as he turns on the spot and gazes around the office. “Dang. I can’t believe this is the same dusty barn. I really gotta get over here more often.”
“Looks good, right?” Ford straightens and walks toward his best friend.
They hug with a firm, manly back slap. I smile as I watch them. I wasn’t sure how telling West would go, but the text I got from him last night was all the confirmation I needed. It said,If I could build you a boyfriend like a Build-A-Bear, he would come out as Ford Grant.
That was it. The only thing he said.
I wrote back,Weird, but thanks.
And then we didn’t say another word about it.
I think that all went about as well as it could go, so I decided not to mess with a good thing.
“So, I just wanted to check your size for the shirts I’m ordering?—”
“What shirts?” I ask.
Ford’s head snaps in my direction and his eyes narrow. “No one likes an eavesdropper, Rosalie.”
It’s such a childish remark, and sohim, I can’t help but bark out a laugh. “Hiding something, boss?”
West laughs, looking highly amused. “Yeah, our boy here agreed to wear team shirts at bowling in exchange for dating you.”
“It wasn’t in exchange! It was a gesture of good faith between old friends.”
Ford wearing a team bowling shirt is so quintessentiallynothim that the mere image sends me into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god.Please. I can’t wait to see you guys. This is so deeply satisfying. Is there a cheering section at your games?”
Ford presses his fingers against his temples, massaging in slow circles like I give him gray hair.
I have no doubt that one day I will.
It’s then that West pipes up, “Oh, man. Who messed up your floors?”
We all glance over at the giant smudge. The dark wood peeks through in several spots. I sort of… swished the drop cloth around in the paint when I cleaned it up, so it now looks like a giant swipe across the floor with a smattering of droplets around it. I wish I felt guilty about it.
Ford freezes but keeps his fingers pressed against his head.
I decide to throw him a bone.
“Oh, that? It’s modern art. All the rage in the city right now. Sort of… an… asymmetrical focal point for the space.”
It’s straight-up bullshit. But I hope my brother is removed enough from all things art and all things city to buy what I’m selling.
West’s hands land on his hips, head nodding as he examines theart.
And when he says, “Cool. I kinda like it,” I let out a deep sigh just as Ford clears his throat to cover a laugh.
“Have you told Cora you own this thing?”
From his ridiculously cushioned seat, Ford furrows his brows at me. “Of course. How do you think we got to Calgary?”
“Wait.” I raise my hand that isn’t holding a flute of champagne, gesturing for him to stop. “Youflewto Calgary? That’s… that’s like a simple three-hour drive!”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t I know it. I thought it would be a fun treat, but Cora bitched at me the entire time about how bad for the environment these flights are. I’m sure she’ll tell my parents all about it while she spends these couple of days with them. But we need to be back in time for Sunday. She’s having an end-of-the-year get-together with some school friends at my parents’ place, and I don’t want to miss it.”
I stifle a laugh because I can totally see Cora giving him shit—while the entire Grant family hosts a party for her at their massive lake house.
“Well, this is truly over-the-top.”
