Page 48 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
“Same. Been a while and all clear. Not a fact I’m sharing for any particular reason or anything, but…”
“Yeah, same,” she agrees. “Just FYI. I mean, knowing your road trip buddy doesn’t have crabs is always good. In case we end up sharing a hotel room or whatever.”
“Or a bed,” I add. “Sometimes the rooms only have one bed. But we could share a king-size. You’re tiny, and I don’t move around much. We could put the extra pillows in between us and keep things purely friendly.”
“Right. That wouldn’t be weird.”
“Not weird at all,” I agree.
Silence falls between us for a moment before she adds in a less playful voice, “My dad would still be scandalized. Even if he knew we were just friends.”
I grunt.
Just friends…
Iguessthat’s still true.
For now.
But if we make it through two nights of this road trip without banging each other’s brains out, I’ll beveryfucking surprised. I suppose crazier things have happened.
Like crabs yeeting themselves out of the ocean, for example…
Chapter
Eleven
From the texts of Makena DeWitt
and Charlotte Delaney
Makena: Hey, babes! We decided we’re leaving early Monday morning. Are you still good to come water the garden while we’re gone? If not, we might still have time to figure out an automatic sprinkler situation.
Charlotte: No, that’s fine. It’s only a ten-minute drive from my place, and I’m always ready for a break from my place at the moment.
Makena: Ugh, I’m sorry. How are the repairs going?
Charlotte: They’re not. The demo team stripped the water-damaged floorboards out, cut down the part of the drywall that was damaged, set up a bunch of fans, then vanished from the face of the earth. I haven’t heard a peep from the contractor for five days. He’s letting my calls go to voicemail and ignoring my emails. Which I wouldn’t mind except he expressly PROMISED ME that he’d have the new flooring in by the time the kitchen installer comes on Friday.
Makena: I hate repairs. And the flood. And water.
Charlotte: No, we love water. Water is life. I miss my hot tub so much. It was ruined in the storm surge, too .
Makena: Then you should use Parker’s while you’re here! He has a hot tub on his back porch overlooking the garden. You can sprinkle the zucchini, then admire the zinnias from the bubbles with a glass of bubbly.
Charlotte: Thanks. Maybe I will.
Makena: You should. He won’t mind. I mean, I’ll check with him to be sure, but Parker’s super laid-back. He’d probably even be fine with you staying here while we’re gone if you wanted. If you’re sick of living without a kitchen.
Charlotte: Really? I’d hate to be a bother.
Makena: Who would you be bothering? We won’t even be here. And since we’re road-tripping, not flying, if we decide we hate each other and bail early, we’ll be able to give you plenty of notice before we get back.
Charlotte: Yeah, you two really seem like you hate each other. *eye roll emoji* Just hate and loathing and dry humping on the dance floor all around.
Makena: Valid. But we argue a decent amount.
Charlotte: About what?
