Page 40 of Heart Me Up
Time for some tough talk. “Okay, Malcolm, maybe you’re the only person on the planet who thinks that hell-couch is comfortable. But comfortable or not, you’ll still be in the middle of the living room with no privacy. And where were you planning on showering? There’s only a toilet and sink in there.” I pointed at the half-bath. “You need your own room with a real bed to help you heal properly.”
Malcolm wrinkled his nose like he tasted something bad. “And where do you suggest I get this room with a real bed?”
I reminded myself that good deeds were their own reward. Or something to that effect. At least Foster would be appreciative. “Come stay at my house. I’ve got a one-story with a guest bedroom that will be all yours, and you’ll have your own bathroom.”
He stared at me in shock. “You don’t even know me! You’d let me stay in your house?”
I put my hands on my hips. “You’re Foster’s best friend. And yes,” I said, probably a bit too grimly.
We had a short stare-down, but he finally looked away. “What about Mariposa?”
“Of course she can come too. I don’t have any pets right now.” I thought for a second. “I’ll get her things together. Can you text Foster that you’ll be staying at my house? He’s on some sort of overnight stakeout or something, but at least he’ll see it before he gets home and wonders where you are.”
Malcolm texted while I loaded up my SUV with Mariposa’s food, litterbox, toys, and insulin. I tossed in Malcolm’s duffel bag. Mariposa’s carrier was in the garage, and we got her inside with minimal fuss. I was actually looking forward to having a pet around my house again. My heart panged a little, but I breathed through it before Malcolm noticed anything was wrong.
Half an hour later Malcolm was settling into my guest bedroom while Mariposa explored the house. I raced around picking up the random items that always ended up all over the floor and tables so Malcolm wouldn’t trip or catch his crutches on them. I tended to let things stay where I put them down, but I’d have to be on my best behavior with Malcolm around. Fuck, there were dirty dishes covering the kitchen counter too.
Before tackling that, I texted Foster.
Me:Malcolm and Mariposa are all moved in. I hope work is going well. Take care of yourself out there.
I washed the dishes like the adult I was, and then I made dinner for myself and Malcolm. It was odd having another person to cook for, but I kind of liked it, even if Malcolm could be a bit of a jerk. He was on good behavior over dinner though. He avoided talking about his job, but he did tell me some stories about his friendship with Foster. I told him some of my most entertaining pet resort anecdotes, and he particularly enjoyed my retelling of the conversation with Nate from this morning. We made it through the meal with very little irritation on either side.
I didn’t know how long this roommate thing would have to last, but I could handle it.
Chapter17
Foster
I sat at my desk,staring at my phone. I was exhausted, just wiped out, and this was the cherry on top of a shitty day that I absolutely did not need.
Not to mention, I didn’t understand. I’d thought things were going well with me and Craig.
Amy came up behind me and clapped me on the shoulder. “What are you still doing here? It’s 3:00am. We caught the fuckers and they’ve been processed. The captain is happy. Carlos and Artie owe us big time. We can go home.” She stopped when she caught sight of my face.
“What? What happened?”
I waggled the phone in my hand. “Malcolm came back.”
“Your friend who was undercover?” I nodded dazedly. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“He… Craig.” I made myself spit it out. “Malcolm went home with Craig.”
Amy’s eyes got big, then narrowed. “The fuck you say!” She grabbed the phone out of my hand and scrolled through my text messages. I knew what she saw; they were burned into my memory.
Mal: Surprise! I’m back, motherfucker! See you when you get home
Mal:Your cat sitter is hot!
Mal: He’s taking me home with him! [winky face emoji] See you tomorrow maybe
And Craig’s text:
Craig:Malcolm and Mariposa are all moved in. I hope work is going well. Take care of yourself out there.
Amy handed my phone back. “Foster,” she said slowly, “It’s late and you’re tired. I’m not sure—”
“Go home, Amy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
