Page 89 of Roommate's Guide to Love

Stella: Why are you drunk at the diner?

Quinn: Because I can’t get drunk at the bar.

Maeve: Why can’t you get drunk at the bar?

Quinn: Because they know me there.

Stella: Everyone knows you, Quinn.

Quinn: Exactly. That’s why I have to be stealth. And you need to be stealth when you come meet me. Wear all black. Oh! Maybe we can?—

Maeve: Stop what you’re thinking right there. I’m a mother and married to a man who the tabloids love, I can’t be causing havoc in my hometown.

Stella: Also, who said we’re coming to meet you? I’m in my pajamas.

Quinn: Well then let’s have a slumber party! You come here and tell me what to do with my life, because I clearly can’t make that decision. And in the morning Charlie will make us waffles. What do ya say, sisters?

Maeve: I say you’re drunk. But I’m never going to pass up a chance to fix your life.

Quinn: There’s the Mama Maeve I know and love!

Ainsley: I’m coming in my pajamas.

Stella: I’m not even putting on a bra.

An hour later—which also could be counted in four shots of whiskey—my three sisters walk into the dimly lit diner, where I’m currently slouching in a booth with one phrase bouncing around in my head.

I’d miss you too…

What the fuck did he mean by that? Clearly, he heard what I said to Grace, but did he have to say it out loud? With a forehead kiss.

A forehead kiss!

I never understood the hype of those. They seemed kind of silly when I’d hear women talking about them. But I get it now. It’s because you can still feel it hours later. And somehow, it’s the most intimate thing we’ve done, which says a lot.

“Why are you down here?” Stella asks. “And why are the lights off?”

I shrug as I spin the shot glass around in my hand. “I didn’t expect to end up here, and I didn’t bring my apartment keys. But I knew Charlie hid a stash of booze in the cabinet, and I caught one of the cooks who was leaving. My timing was impeccable.”

Maeve slides in across from me. I know she chooses that seat because she likes to look me in the eye when she’s telling me what to do. “What happened?”

Ainsley places a tray of waters down before sitting next to me. “Or did it finally hit you that you need to make a decision about, well, everything?”

“Oh Ainsley Mae, so much has happened over the last two days that I don’t even know where to start.”

Maeve rips the shot glass from my hand and replaces it with a water. “At the beginning. Talk. Now.”

Because I’m drunk and slightly scared of Maeve in this moment, I do as she says. It’s a longer story than what I told Porter earlier, but that’s because drunk me keeps trailing off. But by the end, I tell them about Quinn’s Book Crew and my not-really, but kind of, offer from Shirley.

When I wrap it up, everyone’s eyes are on me, but it’s Stella’s that are making me curious.

“What?”

She tilts her head like she’s trying to figure out a clue. “There’s more.”

How does she know? I mean, I know there’s more, I’m just not ready to tell them yet, because if I say words out loud it makes them real. “There’s not anything more.”

Stella shakes her head. “Sorry, sis. Not buying it. Because while your little army of rebel readers is cute and all, and I can see where that, combined with your talk with Mrs. Metcalf, can have you a little flustered, it wouldn’t be driving you into the arms of Jack Daniels.”

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