Page 22 of The Crush Next Door

Concrete Blonde

A while later, I "clomped" up the steps to my apartment, only to be stopped by Josh opening his door along with Magic.

"Hey," he said, grinning at me from his own set of stairs. "Just getting home from work?"

"Yep, a little later than usual. Right, Mr. Stalker?"

He shot me a glare, brows narrowed over those blue eyes. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a run with me and Magic. But I'm rescinding the offer."

Choosing to ignore that last bit, I said, "Sure, I'd love to go. But any way we could walk instead of run? I just had a huge lunch."

He grumbled something inaudible, but I was beginning to realize that Josh was all bluster.

"I'll go up and change real quick," I said sweetly.

A few minutes later, I met him out front and we headed towards the ocean, always the destination when walking or jogging.

"Sorry," I said. "Did you have your heart set on running? I'm sure I can give it a go..."

"Nah, that's cool. We can walk. I had a big meal too."

"Oh, yeah? What does Josh eat for lunch?" This time, I was the recipient of the eye-roll.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I had a turkey breast sandwich on whole-grain bread, thank you very much, with an apple and Pirate's Booty."

"Pirate's Booty? What on earth is that?"

He stopped walking to gawk at me. "Are you joking? Do you live under a rock? You've seriously never had Pirate's Booty?"

"Um, no." I returned his tone.

Groaning, he began to walk again, Magic pulling at the leash. "Pirate's Booty is like bougie Cheetos, but lighter, puffier, crispier, cheesier yumminess."

"Oh, wow, that actually sounds really good."

"Right? Next time you come over, tomorrow's game, you'll have to try some."

"Really? You're okay messing with your superstitions?"

"Well, you already stomped all over those with that fucking delicious gnocchi. And we still won. So maybe it's okay to change the menu a bit," he said, deadly serious.

I stifled a laugh that came out as a snort, Josh giving me a funny look while Magic left his mark on some poor yellow marguerite daisies.

My phone made a noise and I pulled it out of the waistband of my yoga pants. "My mom, of course."

Josh chuckled as I began to read her text out loud. "'Bought the shoes and sent them,' she said. Think I should write her back?"

Another laugh from Josh. "I have no idea. She's your mom."

While we waited at a stoplight, I wrote her a quick thanks, cringing as I wondered if she'd trap me again. Instead of calling me, though, I looked at my phone and was shocked by her answer.

"What the hell?" I muttered.

"What? What happened?"

"She just sent me an angry face emoji!"

Josh howled with laughter. "She did?"

---