8 - Jazz
8
Jazz
“Hi!” Bash said. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Um… no, not at all,” I replied. “I was just watching TV. What’s up?”
Bash nodded toward his house. “Aiden’s cooking dinner. It’s way too much food for two people. You should join us.”
“Oh.” I blinked in surprise. It was a Sunday evening, and I was mentally ready to stay in tonight. Especially since I had a bunch of new-hire meetings scheduled first thing in the morning.
Bash pointed a finger at me. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“You’re thinking of an excuse,” he said. “I can see your wheels spinning. Don’t overthink it: just say yes and come eat with us. We owe you after you made dinner last week.”
Last week. Aiden. The almost-kiss. Fresh embarrassment flooded into my body, heating my cheeks.
“I don’t know. I’m already cozy in my pajamas…”
Bash gestured down at himself. “I’m wearing baggy shorts and a T-shirt, and Aiden is in sweats too. You’ll fit right in.”
His smile was so warm and inviting. It made me feel like I was welcome. Not just welcome for dinner, but in general. I was welcome in their neighborhood and on their street.
“Sure,” I finally said. “I’ll be over in a second.”
“Don’t you dare change,” he warned. “If you put on nicer clothes, then I’ll have to do the same, and then Aiden will, too. It will ruin the whole vibe.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to do that! Stay here, I just need to turn off the TV and throw some flip flops on.”
I followed Bash around the fence and up the steps to their porch. “I love all your plants!” I said, admiring all the hanging planters.
“They’re not mine. Our other roommate takes care of them. When he’s in town, I mean.”
I smacked my forehead. “Sorry. We already talked about this. You have the opposite of a green thumb.”
“Unfortunately so. The most I’m allowed to do is water the plants when one of the other guys is out of town.”
“If you ever need help, just hit me up,” I said. “I can give you a crash course in not killing plants.”
“I might actually take you up on that.” He led me inside their house. “Aiden! Smells delicious!”
“It’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Aiden called back.
Their house was similar to mine, except it was two stories instead of just one. The living room and kitchen used to be distinct rooms, but at some point a wall had been knocked down to join them together into one large space. Aiden was busy in the kitchen with his back to us.
“Anything we can do to help?” Bash asked.
Aiden froze in front of the stove. “We?” He turned around and our gazes collided for the first time since the Bananagrams game exactly a week ago.
“Oh. Hey, Jazz.”
“Hi,” I said. “You didn’t tell Aiden I was coming?”
Bash flashed a grin. “Spur of the moment thing. Aiden was talking about how we had too much food since our other roommate is gone, and we owed you a meal.”
Aiden recovered from his surprise and gave me what seemed like a genuine smile. “The more the merrier.”
“Can I help?” I asked.
Aiden opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. “The best way you two can help is by drinking beer and staying out of my way.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Bash said, taking one of the beers.
Bash raised an eyebrow and extended the other bottle toward me.
“Here’s a secret about me,” I said, taking the bottle. “Drinking beer and doing nothing is something I excel at.”
Aiden laughed and returned to the food he was cooking. And just like that, the awkwardness was gone.
The three of us made small talk while Aiden finished cooking. It had been a crazy week at work for them, which Bash said was unusual because things were typically calm when they were in town. “The crazy stuff usually happens when we’re traveling for an acquisition.”
I told them about my week training new hires, including one girl who I had to fire on the very first day because I caught her smoking weed in the bathroom during her shift.
“I’m so glad I don’t have to manage people,” Bash muttered while twisting his beer bottle between two fingers. “Unlike Aiden.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“It’s not so bad!” Aiden said cheerfully. He was still facing away from us cooking dinner, and his ass looked great in his sweatpants.
Not that I was looking, of course.
“You complain all the time,” Bash pointed out.
“Sure, there are always some annoying people who refuse to learn a new system,” Aiden admitted. “But most of the time I’m working with employees who are excited and motivated. They’re the best students.”
“When we acquire a new store, our company usually consolidates several positions,” Bash explained to me.
“That’s corporate speak for firing people,” Aiden called over his shoulder.
“Firings, yeah,” Bash said with a wince. “It makes things more efficient. But by the time Aiden arrives to train people, the layoffs have already happened. Everyone who remains is relieved and grateful to still have a job.”
“Like I said: they’re the best students,” Aiden said. “Food’s ready!”
Tonight’s meal was grilled chicken with lime couscous and vegetables. It was incredible, a fact which I stated several times while we ate.
“He’s very good at what he does,” Bash said. “That’s why we let him do all the cooking.”
“I enjoy it, so I don’t mind,” Aiden said with a shrug.
“I’m glad you invited me. I might have to come over every Sunday.”
Bash finished his meal first, so he got started on the dishes in the kitchen. That left Aiden and I alone finishing our beers.
And just like that, the awkwardness returned.
“You two have unfinished business,” Bash called from the sink.
“We do?” I asked.
“Aiden told me what happened at your place last Sunday.”
“He… he did?”
“Bash…” Aiden warned.
Bash dried his hands and opened a cabinet in the living room. “You two tied in Bananagrams. It’s been bothering poor Aiden here all week.” He placed a Scrabble box on the table between us. “Sorry, Jazz, but you’re not allowed to leave until it’s settled.”
Aiden chuckled. “We don’t have to play if you don’t want.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s fine. I knew you were scared.”
Aiden stared at me for three long seconds, then tore the top off the box. “Best of three.”
“Columbia rules,” I countered. “Seven rounds per game, high score wins.”
Aiden scoffed. “As if there’s any other way to play.”
“Nerds,” Bash muttered while he resumed washing the dishes.
Aiden won the first game, I won the second, and then he won the third—by just four points. “Wow,” he said as we packed up the board. “That was really close.”
“Yeah, you won fair and square. Feel free to rub it in.”
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to brag, but I pretty much never lose.”
“That’s because you’ve never played me before,” I said. “Next time, I’m taking two of three.”
He smiled at me. “Next time, then.”
Next time wasn’t just a polite hypothetical invitation. I got a text from Aiden Tuesday morning.
Aiden: Bananagrams tonight?
Me: Obviously.
Aiden: The only thing that’s obvious is how much I’m going to destroy you.
Me: I’m glad you’re trash talking now, because you clearly can’t handle it during the game.
Aiden won four games out of five. I was infuriated. “Best of seven?”
“I have to get up early.”
“Sure. Make excuses.”
“Why would I need to make excuses? I won!”
“Just one game of Scrabble,” I insisted.
“Jazz,” he groaned, “I have to go to bed.”
“Thursday, then?”
Aiden ran a hand through his dark hair. “You want to get your butt kicked twice in one week? All right.”
For the next month, that became our routine: Bananagrams on Tuesday night, Scrabble on Thursday, and then we got together for a group dinner on Sunday. Sometimes Bash joined us for a simple game, like Clue or Monopoly. Those nights were fun, with the competitiveness dialed way down.
But eventually he called it a night, and Aiden and I put away the childish games and got down to serious business.
“Let me get this straight,” Cat said during lunch one day. “You’re hanging out with them three times a week, and you’re not fucking?”
“Everything is about sex with you!” I complained.
She waggled a black-nailed finger at me. “No, Jazz. Everything is about sex in reality , you just don’t realize it.”
“I like hanging out with them! They’re like my best friends.”
She made a coughing noise.
“My best friends other than you,” I quickly clarified. “But it’s really nice having two friends next door! Two totally platonic friends.”
She squinted at me for a long moment. “You like them.”
“I just told you I do.”
“I mean you like them . With your vagina.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess I should be grateful you didn’t use a stupid nickname like clam or gash.”
“How long have we been best friends, Jazz?”
“Since Freshman orientation at UMass.”
She nodded emphatically. “Eight years. Literally every year of your adult life. And in those eight years I’ve come to know you better than you know yourself. You have a crush on one of them. Or both.”
I sputtered a laugh. “I don’t have a crush on either of them.” But as I said the words out loud, I could feel that it wasn’t the truth. I had spent a lot of time thinking about Aiden and Bash. Our game nights and Sunday dinners had become the highlights of my week.
Cat gave me a smug grin and sipped her drink. “You can keep lying yourself if you want. But when you’re ready to admit it, I’ll be here to listen to the juicy details.”