Page 27 of The Jerk in Apartment 1B

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask Cole.

“No.” He puts his arm around Scott and smiles at him. “And neither does this guy, so if you know anyone…”

“What about that girl?” I say to Scott.

“What girl?”

“The one you were with last night. Whipped Cream Girl.”

Scott chuckles. “Did you seriously just call her Whipped Cream Girl?”

I shrug. “I don’t know her name.”

“It’s Bridget, and she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.”

“She acted like more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“She called you babe.”

“So? A lot of girls call me that.”

“It seems like a girlfriend thing to me. And then all that whipped cream?”

“What about it?” he says, with that slight smile.

“Do I really need to say it?” I ask, feeling my cheeks getting warm. I never should’ve brought this up. I just met the guy. I shouldn’t be asking about his love life.

“She was making a drink,” he says. “Some kind of fruity cocktail that has whipped cream on top.”

“It was for a drink?”

“Yeah. What’d you think it was for?”

“Nothing.” I look away, embarrassed and wishing he’d stop talking about it. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” I walk over to the tiny counter that’s supposed to be my kitchen and set down the plate. “I need to get going, so if you guys could—”

“Yeah, we’re going,” Cole says, heading to the door.

Scott stays behind. “Let me know about the mattress. If your friend doesn’t want you keeping hers, I might be able to help you out.”

How would he help me? And why? I don’t understand this guy. Is he just pretending to be nice so I’ll sleep with him? I could totally see him doing that.

He’s probably lying about Bridget. That story about her making cocktails? Yeah, right. I saw how she was looking at him. That whipped cream was not for cocktails.

I don’t trust him. Or Cole. I’m sticking with my belief that all guys are jerks, even if they give you cinnamon rolls and pool floats.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Scott

“What do you think?” I ask, as I pour myself some coffee.

“About what?” Cole says, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“About the new neighbor. What do you think of her?”

“I think she hates you.”

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