Page 116 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

Me: I’m only doing this to keep us sleeping together under wraps. Why the hell do you think I’d agree to meet your dad at the same place my sister and her boyfriend like to perform? Someone will recognize me. Besides, taking a baby into SeaBird is illegal. It’s a bar. Pick a different place.

Marty: Fine. We’ll meet at Vino. I’ll convince my dad to meet me there beforehand. After all, he’s anxious to see what the surprise is.

Surprise?

My mouth floods with acid, but I’m left with no choice. Not if I want to keep my relationship with Milo intact.

Me: Fine. What day?

Marty: I already told you. Two weeks from today.

Me: I can’t. I have plans.

Marty: Change them.

Me: I can’t.

Marty: Listen, Em. You don’t have a choice in the matter. I can’t move the date. My dad’s only in town for one day. So figure it out, or Milo finds out exactly how much fun you and I liked to have. Understood?

A dozen responses pop into my head at once, ranging from,go to hell,toI hate you. But none of them fix the situation. None of them make Marty go away. None of them clone me into two people who can attend Milo’s art exhibit and give me enough leverage to hold something over Marty’s head and make him disappear from my life forever.

Instead, I type out a single word while hating myself more than ever.

Me: Yup.

30

Maddie

“How’d it go?” Milo asks as I push open the front door. With a baby against his shirtless chest and an apron wrapped around his waist, he’s the picture-perfect house dad who could make a girl’s ovaries burst. The combination quiets a few of the condescending voices taunting me since Marty’s text popped up on my phone, and I grab onto the moment with both hands.

“It was good,” I reply, reaching for my baby girl. “And how was my little Peanut?”

“Perfect. Just woke up.” He shifts her in his arms. “She wants you.”

I cradle her to my chest, my letdown making my boobs ache as I head to the stairs when Milo stops me. “Jake’s passed out on his bed. You should nurse down here. Come talk to me.”

Frowning, I head to the couch and ask, “He passed out?”

“Yeah.”

“But not before yelling at you, I assume.” I lift my dark Etch ‘N Ink T-shirt, unhook my nursing bra, and hold Penny to my breast.

As she latches like a champ, Milo collapses onto the cushion next to me and scrubs his hand from his forehead to his chin. “How’d you find out?”

“Oh, you mean how you stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong, even if it was only because you’re worried about your best friend?”

He sighs. “I’m an ass.”

“You most definitely are. But I get it. He's your best friend, and he’s hurting. It’s got to be killing you.”

With his elbows on his knees, he rests his head in his hands and threads his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots like it really is killing him––the fact he doesn’t know how to help his best friend.

“Jake was always the one with his head straight. I was the one screwing up. He had my back. He’d help me get on track. He didn’t let me down. I feel like it’s my turn. But I have no idea what I’m doing or how to make him pull his head out of his ass.”

“Time?” I suggest, adjusting Penny slightly as I sink a little further into the leather cushion. “It’s the only thing I think would heal his broken heart. Not that it worked for me or anything, but…”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve tried, though. And while time is passing, he’s screwing up and burning bridges. The bastard’s not gonna have a future if he keeps going down this road. It’s pissing me off.”

---