Page 70 of Hooked
Tayla didn’t mind Ox as a roommate, mostly because he was minimally social before he got his coffee. He wasn’t a morning person. He didn’t attempt interaction when he wasn’t caffeinated, which suited Tayla just fine.
They each poured a cup of coffee and doctored it to their liking, black with a lot of sugar for Tayla, cream and no sugar for Ox. They sat at the counter, checking their phones and drinking coffee for a good fifteen minutes.
“Emmie still sleeping?”
“Yeah. She woke up last night. I think she came out and read for a while.”
“I heard her.”
He took a few more gulps of coffee. “Is it stress?”
“I don’t think so. She just does that. Always has, as far as I know.”
He frowned. “Huh.”
“Yeah, she’s weird.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Touché.”
Tayla got up to refill her mug, feeling slightly more social. She silently offered a warm-up to Ox and he held out his mug.
“So what are you going to do about Jeremy if you get this job?”
“Are you actually asking me about my love life?”
“You’ve grilled me about Emmie roughly a million times. It only seems fair.”
Tayla put the carafe back in the coffee maker. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’ll end. I don’t think there’s any point in trying to maintain something long distance when our lives are going in two different directions.” The thought made her queasy. Or maybe she just needed to eat something. She was drinking coffee on an empty stomach.
She opened the fridge and got out a cup of yogurt.
“That’s it?” Ox asked. “‘It’s been fun. See you on the occasional weekend and at Christmas’?”
She set her mug down. “What do you suggest I do, Ox?”
“Don’t leave Metlin. What’s so great in San Francisco that you can’t get here?”
“Uh, a job—”
“You have a job.”
“A better job.” She picked up her coffee again. “And… culture. Art museums. Plays. Concerts.”
“We have concerts here.”
“GrizzlyFest doesn’t count.”
He frowned. “Why the hell not? And you’re talking about stuff you do like… a few times a year. Why would you move for stuff you’re going to do a few times a year?”
“I used toliveby the Palace of Fine Arts. I went at least once a week.”
“So here you can drive up to the mountains instead. You trying to tell me art is more beautiful than nature?”
She let out a breath. “It’s just different. I’m more of an art museum girl than a nature girl. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with Metlin, it’s just not home.”
“I think you’re wrong.” He reached for the bread box and got out a bagel, then bit into it.
