Chapter 45 Rosie
ROSIE
Wesley snored. It was quiet on the inhale, and ungodly loud on the exhale.
It bothered Lionel when he left my room the night before after Wesley went to go pick him up from Larry’s.
I shouldn’t have found it as adorable as I did that Wesley almost had a fully fledged meltdown at two o’clock in the morning when we woke up after passing out.
“What if he needs anything? His favorite snacks are here.” He was completely focused on my tortoise even as I was lying naked in a post-orgasm haze, and he was running around with his dick half-cocked—literally—pulling on pants to get Lionel, no matter how many times I told him he would be fine at Larry’s. He wouldn’t listen.
So, Wesley went to get Lionel, and I went back to bed.
I could have sworn that, when he climbed back in next to me and slid between the sheets, I heard an “I love you.” And for the first time in weeks, when I thought about Wesley saying those words, I didn’t think one bit of Lake.
I thought about how good it felt to be loved by him.
But as I listened to him snoring fifteen minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off for my shift at Orla’s, I wondered if love meant you had to accept someone’s snoring, or if it would be a bad thing if I smothered him with a pillow.
“You’re staring, Rosie,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.
“Plotting, actually.” He peeled open one eye to look at me, and—yeah, I can live with the snoring.
“It’s early,” he commented. “The sun isn’t even awake yet.”
“I work at Orla’s today.”
He groaned at my words and pulled the covers over both of our heads. “We’re stuck here, so you can’t go.” He started to try to wrap me in my blankets, essentially trying to put me in a cocoon so I couldn’t leave.
“Wesley, I have to work.”
“No…Have to stay here.” He jutted out his bottom lip in a pout.
“Let me out.” I tried to wiggle free. “Wesley.” I did my best to try to escape,but he only pulled me closer to him instead.
“You’re bothering me.” I laughed at him.
“I’m coming to terms with the fact that I live to bother you, Rosie.” His words made my heart stutter, and I was momentarily struck by how easy it was… How right it felt. It was not awkward. It just felt like something we’d be doing for the rest of our lives.
“Where’d you go, Rosie? Somewhere good?” He tapped his finger to my temple.
“I’ll tell you later if you let me go.”
“Okay, fine. You win.” He unwrapped me, and I started to climb out of bed when he said, “I’ll take care of Lionel’s breakfast.” He moved to get out of bed as well, but grabbed my elbow before he did. “We’ll talk later, yeah? A real one?”
“Yes. It’s all just details anyway.” I touched my nose to his, and I heard the release of anxiety in his exhale.
? ? ? ?
The drive to Orla’s was as quick as ever, but the best one I had because in my lap was a coffee that Wesley had made me from Ned.
Perfect. Although when I pulled into the Orla’s, it was oddly still—a few cars in the lot, but hardly the line that was usually there.
This is odd. I walked in the back, like I normally did, and while the music was playing, I didn’t hear the normal chatter.
Am I missing something here?
I went to walk out front and past Daniel, but he handed me a plate of bacon and sausage. “Take this with you,”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“They are all out there. Go on.” He shooed me toward the front, the plate of breakfast meat making my mouth water and my stomach grumble. I made my way to the front of the place, and it was empty, except for the table of ladies.
“Rosie!” everyone said in tandem.
“It’s not my birthday.” The only thing I could come up with was that it was a surprise birthday party of sorts.
“No! This is a hangover after prom breakfast that Orla so lovingly decided to open an hour late so we could have,” Evelyn explained.
“I was blackmailed.”
“Now, that sounds right. But who am I to complain?” I sat in the empty seat.
Carol and Megan both looked worse for the wear, considering both of them had sunglasses on and it was still dark outside.
I started to pile food onto my plate and pour myself a drink.
I was in the middle of a happy dance when the silence alerted me to the fact that no one was moving, eating, or talking.
“Uh…”
“What do you mean, uh? You think I am here, smelling like grease to eat food? What happened last night?” Jeanie wailed.
“What do you mean?” I say as nonchalantly as possible. “You were there.”
“Not in your bedroom!” Evelyn chimes.
“Hear, hear!” Carol agreed, and raised her glass in the air.
“Can’t a girl just eat some bacon?” I teased. “And bask in a post-orgasmic glow without being interrogated by you guys?”
The table erupted in cheers, and Megan fist-pumped the air as she hopped off her seat. “Lake owes me $100!”
“You bet on me?”
“If it makes you feel any better, I bet on Wesley, also.”
“No, not really.”
“I am offended that you did not ask us to participate, no? We would have done well, right ladies?” Jeanie huffed out. She eyed the bacon with barely concealed interest and snatched a piece from the plate.
“I thought you hated my greasy food,” Orla called her out on it. “Now you eat it.”
She curled her lip at her and took an over-exaggerated bite.
“Play with your food later, ladies. I would like to hear about Rosie’s orgasm.” Meredith tutted and my jaw dropped—not at the words, but at who had said them.
Hoots and giggles sounded from everywhere, and once they all calmed down, I told them exactly what happened, in every detail I could.
Once I finished, everyone had an opinion—all good, except for Jeanie, who expressed she was upset I didn’t pick the bag.
And when I reminded her the bag’s name was Vincent she just rolled her eyes at me.
Maggie was deceptively silent, but smiling.
When the hour was up, and we had all had our fill of gossip and greasy food, I went to go back behind the bar and help Orla out with the people who had started to fill the empty spaces.
“Oh, no. Rosie, let’s talk for a minute.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked as she brought me back into the kitchen.
“Look, I adore you, Rosie, you know that, but you are no waitress. You needed a place to land, but I can’t afford anymore broken plates or wrong orders, love. But why don’t you come in one Sunday a month and do my books?”
“I would love that,” I told her honestly. I had already been mentally calculating what it meant for my lazy Sundays.
I went to collect my things and head out.
Everyone else had already taken off, telling me they’d see me next week at book club, but that we were back to the library because Meredith couldn’t trust anyone with the weekend crowd.
No one was exactly sure which crowd she was referring to.
I argued briefly that Lionel would be disappointed, but we settled on bi-weekly dinners at my place, and I liked that idea much better.
I waved to Orla, Daniel, and Matt, and stopped in my tracks when Maggie was waiting by my car.
“Maggie, what are you still doing here?”
“Just needed to remind you that you still owe my pick a date.” I started to laugh, thinking she was joking, but her face and her even tone let me know she wasn’t.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am, dear. It would be rude if you didn’t.” She moved to leave. “Tonight works. 5 p.m.”
“I’m dating someone!” I shout at her retreating figure, “I don’t give out my address!” She pays me no mind and continues to walk away, leaving me in a state of shock at my car.