Page 5 of Just Friends Forever
It’s beenthirty minutes by the time he steps outside with his suitcase. I keep my mouth shut, though. I’m used to sitting around, waiting for clients to turn up for house showings, while Austin has gotten used to people functioning on his schedule. Perks of being a big deal.
Besides, if I’m serious about getting into the luxury real estate market, I’ll have to get used to entitled behavior, so I just consider this good practice.
Austin hoists his suitcase into the trunk as my across-the-street neighbor steps outside and waves.
“Got that new hose attachment installed for you yesterday, Troy,” he calls over.
I glance toward the side of my house, where the hose is wound around the reel. Even from here, I can see the new red head. “Sweet. Thanks, Mr. Gates! I really appreciate that.”
“I tried it out, and it’s working like a charm. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”
“I plan to,” I say with another wave as he slides into his car to head to work.
“You can’t install your own hose?” Austin says with amusement as we shut our doors.
“It’s an attachment, Aus,” I say. “And it’s not a normal one.” I saw Mr. Gates using his hose to pressure wash his house last week and had immediate neighbor envy.
“You sure you don’t want to put your stuff in a storage unit?” I give my house a quick once-over as we pull away. It’s a good-looking place—and it was a stretch for my budget, but being a real estate agent has made me particular about where I live. From the outside, you wouldn’t know it, but it’s a stacked duplex. I live upstairs, and Austin rents the downstairs unit from me. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying me rent every month. You’re hardly ever here, and you can always crash on my couch when you need to.”
He shakes his head as he shoots off a text. “I like having somewhere of my own when I’m in town.”
“Suit yourself,” I say. I guess I can see how life in posh hotels would get old.
Nope. I lied. I can’t see it at all. The room service alone makes my mouth water. Besides, my duplex isn’t a dump, but it’s not the Ritz Carlton, and the posters I put up while Austin was sleeping are the only decor in his apartment at this point. It would take me all of an hour to pack up his stuff and store it elsewhere.
I don’t push my offer, though. Having Austin in there is guaranteed rental income from the easiest tenant on the planet. He’s only here for a few days at a time every couple of months.
“Do youwantme out?” he asks, as though it’s just occurred to him why I might be asking.
“Nope.”
His mouth widens into a smile as he stares at my profile. “Awwww. You’re lonely, aren’t you? Sorry, bro. My contract isn’t up until next year. But I give you permission to sleep with that cardboard cutout of me on those lonely nights.”
“What?” I say loudly as I put in my Bluetooth earpiece and point to it. “I can’t hear you over the sound of my girlfriend calling.”
He scoffs. “You don’t have a girlfriend.”
I stare deep into his eyes as I answer the call and say, “Hey, beautiful.” And then I return my eyes to the road. Winning this spat isn’t worth killing both of us. Probably. Also, if he looks at me too carefully, he’ll know I’m embellishing the truth. Lyla’s not my girlfriend. We’ve only been going out three weeks, butmy girlfriendis a lot pithier thanthe girl I’ve gone out with a lot over the past couple weeks and like pretty well so far.
“Hey, yourself,” Lyla replies, the smile she’s wearing evident in her voice. “How are you?”
Even from the corner of my eye, I can see Austin watching me to evaluate if I’m messing with him.
“Doing great,” I respond. “Hey, sorry about last night. My client insisted on inspecting every crevice of all three houses and then discussing their pros and cons in excruciatingly painful detail.”
“It’s okay. I wish you could have been there, though. Jamie always throws the best parties. You on your way to Bel Air?”
“Got to drop my brother off at the airport first, but yeah.”
There’s a pause. “Your brother. As in Austin?” The ohh-la-la in her voice is almost palpable. Austin has that effect on people, especially women. Even more so on mid-pubescent girls. Watching video clips of him singing at concerts is vomit-inducing.
I keep the smile pasted on my face. “The only brother I’ve got.”
“Troy! You should have told me. I would have come with you!”
I pause, trying to keep myself rational and my tone light. It’s normal for people to be star-struck when they don’t know firsthand how rarely Austin bathed as a teen. “Then you would have had to join me at the open house too, which, to be fair, I wouldn’t have complained about.”
“Me neither.”
