Chapter 2
Rosie
Seeking escape from human life. I don't know why you're looking for someone who isn't interested in romantic entanglements, or kids, but I'm here for it. What's your favorite position?
"You didn't," Craig says, reading over my shoulder. Yet another reason I need out of their house. Betty and Craig lack boundaries. They're great, and I love them both, but boy I could do without their commentary on my every choice.
"I don't know. His favorite color?" Craig ruffles my hair and goes back to the pot of pasta on the stove.
"Maybe next time." Definitely not next time. Who cares what his favorite color is? I want to make sure he's not going to want to fuck me in some impossible position. I'm a tea pot–short and round–not a pretzel.
"How was the interview today?" Craig asks, doing something with the pot of sauce. I don't know. I don't cook.
"I walked out. They're looking for one person to fill three positions at a barely minimum wage salary.
Let some twenty-two-year-old do it." The receptionist position I'd interviewed for that morning was really a receptionist, website manager, social media marketer, with a side of security.
All for thirty thousand a year. No, thank you.
"Rosie." His voice was tired. I understood. Craig never made me feel unwelcome. He wasn't threatened by my relationship with Betty, but I was still an extra person in his house. I know he wants to see me settled and out of his house almost as much as I do.
"I know, I promise I'm still looking. And if not, in three months I'll be heading off to perv planet and out of your hair." I snap my laptop closed and push away from the table, more annoyed with myself than anything else.
"Rosie, it's not like that." Craig turns around to look at me, but I can't. I just can't.
"I know, hun. I appreciate you." I grab my laptop and drop a kiss on Craig's cheek before heading out of the kitchen and to my bedroom.