3. Indie
INDIE
Owen’s eyes widened in disbelief as he slumped back against the couch cushions. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I stretched out my legs and rested them on his lap, feeling the warmth from his body through my fuzzy blanket. “I wish I was kidding,” I said the words with a groan, but as they passed my lips I found they didn’t quite ring true.
Sure, it was an out-there situation that I’d found myself in. And sure, it was going to be difficult working with Kiernan, but I would be lying to myself and everyone else if I said I wasn’t happy to see him again.
The very brief time we’d spent together a year ago had changed the trajectory of my life. I had been so lost with very little direction when it came to what I would do next. In what world would someone like me have ever considered working in death care? But he’d planted the seed in my mind and the stars aligned for it to sprout and grow. For it to flourish.
This whole situation just goes to show how powerful a person’s words can be to someone who needs to hear them.
“How are you going to manage?” he asked, popping the tab on a can of soda and taking a long drink.
Owen had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. We shared everything. When he’d lost his job shortly after I’d recovered from the shock of losing my own, there was no question about whether or not he should move in with me. It was only a month or so before he found work again, but a month is long enough to find yourself in a financial hole you can’t seem to dig your way out of when you’re without an income. And after, it made sense for him to stay. He was my person and I was his, and living together just worked for us.
“I guess the same way I managed when Sammy was the one I answered to.” I shrugged.
“Sammy wasn’t built like a brick shit house.”
I looked at him confusedly. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“It means you’ve been infatuated with this guy for a year now, so much so that you’ve taken a fucking vow of celibacy and slept with approximately no one since. How are you surviving, by the way?”
“First of all,” I said. “You don’t know what I do in my downtime.”
“Yes. I do. We live together, remember?” He had me there.
“And second of all, you’ve worked your way through half of Fate Trace in the time you’ve lived here.” I glared at him. I was deflecting.
“What does that have to do with any of this?” he asked, mock offended.
“Well. Because you’re getting enough action for the both of us.”
He rolled his eyes.
It was true, though. It seemed like he was bringing home a different man or woman every weekend. Sometimes both. Thank the gods for noise-canceling headphones.
“The fact of the matter is,” he started. “You can’t entirely avoid him. He’s your boss.”
“Yes, but?—”
“And,” he cut me off. “You are very obviously in desperate need of an orgasm. A terrible combination, if you ask me.”
“I am not!”
“Whatever. You’re wound up tighter than an eight-day clock.”
“Where do you come up with these things? Are you seventy?” I paused thoughtfully. “And since we’re on the topic, I take care of myself just fine.”
“That’s an image I didn’t need to be seared into my brain.” He made a disgusted face.
“Mmm. If I recall correctly, you’re the one who just brought my lack of orgasms into the conversation.”
“I was just saying.” He gave me a flat look. “It’s been a while, and that paired with the fact that you’re going to have to see the man you probably think about every time you take care of yourself…” he trailed off. And shuddered.
I nudged him hard in the ribs with the bottom of my foot, causing him to grunt and slap me away.
Ugh. He was fucking right. But I would die before admitting that to him—or myself, honestly.
“I wasn’t around Sammy all that much, and when I was we almost always had Amelia there. She will still be in the office, and I know I can count on her to be a solid buffer between the two of us. She’s too fucking nosey to leave us alone for long.”
I loved Amelia, but truer words had never been spoken. She was central to our business, the thread that held Messor’s together. She dealt with all the things the rest of us had no interest in dealing with—particularly the living human bodies that came and went from the funeral home. And the phone calls.
She was kind and personable and a great asset to the business. She knew everything about everyone and made it her mission to always have her nose in everyone else’s business. Which I could have found annoying, but didn’t because she was endearing and somewhat like a grandmother to me at this point.
And sometimes it came in useful.
Owen looked at me as if he was reading my mind. I hated when he did that.
“Amelia is going to have a field day with the two of you,” he said, almost gleefully.
“Amelia has no freaking clue about our history. She has no reason to believe anything is going on between us,” I said. Then added, “Nothing is going on between us.”
He chuckled quietly and tipped my feet out of his lap as he stood. “Oh, she’ll know. I have no doubt about that.”
Fuck.
He was so right.
This unexplainable energy crackled around us every time we were in the same room together—something that hadn’t dissipated in the time we’d spent apart—and I was certain a person would have to be completely oblivious to anything to not notice it. And Amelia noticed everything.
Great.