2. Rock
2
ROCK
I’ll never understand why Emily loves this damn apartment so much. I know she thinks it’s charming and shit, but old faulty pipes are exactly the kind of stuff you have to deal with when you live in an old apartment. And then her landlord doesn’t even offer to put her up in a hotel? For fuck’s sake. Ridiculous.
I need to stop glaring at the hole in her wall and feeling exasperated about her having to deal with shit like this. Pretty soon we’ll be over at my apartment and she’ll be safe and sound.
I turn away and shove my hands in my pockets. My fingertips brush against the short length of ribbon in my pocket and I rub my thumb over its satiny texture. It’s a wonder I haven’t lost it after all these years.
“Okay,” Emily calls from the other room, sliding a closet door shut. “I think I’ve got everything I need.”
I walk out of the bathroom and glance around her place, looking for anything she might have missed that she’ll want to have. My eyes land on the old stuffed teddy bear that’s sitting on her couch, and the corner of my mouth ticks up in a small smile. Some years ago, Em dragged me to a state fair. I won the teddy bear for her at a game of dart throw. That old thing has sure seen better days, but I’m glad to see she’s kept it.
“Should I bring Beary?” Emily asks, nudging me with her elbow.
“Up to you.”
“Nah, I’ll leave him here. He’ll guard the place,” she says with a laugh.
We leave her apartment and start riding over to my place. The feeling of her arms wrapped around me as she sits behind me on my bike sparks feelings in me that I force myself to ignore. We pass by the bar along the way, and I reflexively give it a protective glance. There isn’t much crime in our small town, but I can’t help but feel overprotective of our business. I know how easy it is for things to go wrong. Businesses fail, parents divorce, water pipes burst. Some people may think I’m too pessimistic, but when it comes to the bar, it’s not just myself I’m thinking of. It belongs just as much to Em as it does to me. I know she comes from a family that has money and she could get financial help from them if she needed to, but I never want her to be forced into that situation if I can help it.
We reach my apartment building and I park in my usual spot. I grab the travel bag she packed and carry it. We walk up the stairwell and I unlock my apartment door. My place is in its usual tidy state.
But of course Emily immediately zones in on the one thing that needs attention.
“Aw, Rock, your poor plant!” Emily says, making a beeline for the plant in question—the only one I own. Its leaves are drooping and it’s obviously thirsty. I feel a pang of guilt since Em was the one who got me that plant. She bought it for me last Christmas, declaring that I needed to own something that wasn’t black or gray.
I didn’t mean to neglect it. I’m just not good at caring for stuff like that.
Emily slips off her shoes as she scoops the plant into her arms and carries it into my kitchen. When I hear her talking to the plant, I shake my head. Of course she’d talk to a plant. She’s always been attentive like that.
I carry Emily’s bag into my bedroom and set it by the side of the bed. I grab one of the two pillows from my bed and an extra blanket and carry it all out to the couch, where I’ll be sleeping while Emily stays with me.
“This is perfect, thanks,” Emily says, drying her hands on her hips as she comes out of the kitchen and meets me by the couch.
I shake my head. “I’m sleeping here, not you.”
“What? No. I told you I’m not taking your bed.”
“Em, this isn’t up for discussion.”
She sits down on the couch and looks up at me defiantly. “You’re right. It isn’t.”
I sigh. Why is she being so fucking stubborn? There’s no way I’m letting her sleep on the couch.
But if she’s going to be stubborn, I can be stubborn right back. I sit down, claiming the space, and throw my legs over her lap. With a yawn, I say, “All right. Goodnight.”
“Rock!” She squeals as she struggles to escape from beneath my legs. She’s strong but our size difference is too much for her. “God. Fine. I’ll take your bed!” She huffs out a breath, then smiles at me. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“Thanks for saving my plant from imminent death.”
She laughs and nudges my foot gently before heading toward my bedroom. “Anytime.”
Why the hell is she up already? Does she not like sleep?
I crack open an eye, groaning at the sound of hearing my shower running. It’s way too fucking early for someone who went to bed at three to be up already. I grab my phone, confirm the early hour, and toss my phone aside. Fuuuck. I need at least another hour of sleep.
I shut my eyes again, but sleep doesn’t come. I knew that would be the case. I can never fall back asleep once I’m awake. It might be because as a kid I used to wake up to the sound of my parents yelling at each other. Or it might just be an annoying trait of mine. Doesn’t matter. The reason for it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the way I am.
The shower water shuts off and I hear her moving around in the bathroom, then the door pops open and she walks out. I don’t mean to look at her but she’s right there in my sight line, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her naked body and another one twisted up around her hair. As close of friends as we are, it’s not a sight I’m used to. Em’s skin is all glowy and pink from the shower. The sight of her nudges something deep in my gut.
At least she doesn’t see me looking at her. Without a glance in my direction, she heads back into my bedroom and closes the door. A few minutes later she comes out again and tries to pad quietly past the back of the couch.
“I’m awake,” I grumble.
She smiles sweetly at me over the back of the couch. A smile like that always chips away at my grouchiness. “Hey. Good morning. Shoot, I’m sorry, Rock. Did I wake you?”
“You always get up this early?” I ask.
“Usually. But I also wanted to cook breakfast for you. How do omelettes sound?”
“They sound fine.” I pull myself up off the couch and stand to my full height. “Just try to keep the shell out of mine.”
Emily scoffs at me. “That was one time! Besides, we were camping. I was off my game.”
I chuckle and stride into the bathroom, the room still warm and steamy from her shower. I empty my bladder and then throw some cold water on my face. Em’s things are already taking over my sink. I’ll never understand why women need so many goddamn products.
I sigh and move some of my stuff aside so she can have more room.
I walk into the kitchen and find her with her head in the fridge. For a split second, the scene makes something pulse inside me. I shake it away. When she pulls herself out of the fridge, her arms are full of eggs, cheese, and some random vegetables from my crisper.
“I’m shocked. You actually have fresh veggies,” she teases.
I open a cabinet to get out some coffee grounds and start scooping some into the coffee machine. “Whatever, Em. I’ve seen the inside of your fridge and all the nasty stuff you need to throw out.”
Emily swats me with a towel and turns her attention to cracking eggs. When the coffee’s ready, I pour some for each of us, making sure Em gets a cup without any chips.
“Sorry I don’t have creamer,” I say.
“It’s okay. I can drink it black.”
“I’ll get some later.”
She smiles at me as she cuts up the vegetables. “Really, it’s okay. I can survive a few days without it.”
I shut down the part of me that secretly hopes Emily has to stay with me for more than just a few days.
Just as we’re sitting down to eat, Emily’s phone pings. She checks it as she chews a bite of her omelette.
“That your landlord?” I ask.
“Nope. My mom.” She puts her phone down without texting anything back.
“Everything okay?”
Emily shrugs. “She’s been a bit overbearing lately.”
“You want to talk about it?” I’m not much of a talker myself, but I’m always willing to listen. Especially when it’s Emily talking.
Emily eats another bite before answering. “It’s dumb. She keeps trying to set me up on dates. I don’t know why it’s so concerning to her that I’m not dating anyone, but she’s taken it upon herself to remedy that. She keeps trying to set me up with, as she puts it, ‘very eligible bachelors’—as in, the sons of her friends at the country club, guys that I don’t have any interest in going out with.”
Something weird churns in my chest. Thoughts of asshole rich boys appear in my head, and I don’t fucking like it. Taming my jealousy, I reply with an unaffected, “I see.”
“I’ve told her I’m not interested, but she just ignores me.”
“That’s hella annoying.”
“It’s my mom. You know how she is. She gets an idea in her head and she’s set on it.” Suddenly Emily breaks into a laugh. “You know what I should do? Tell her you and I are dating. Then she’d have to stop trying to set me up.”
That other feeling comes back into my chest and I try to focus on my food. “Do it.”
Emily looks at me as if I’m the one who just suggested a crazy idea. “I was kidding.”
I shrug. “It could work.”
“But isn’t that a bit much? I know it’s a thing in movies and stuff, but do people actually do fake relationships in real life?”
“No idea. I’m just saying, it could work.”
She looks surprised at my encouragement. Frankly, I’m surprised at it, too.
After another moment of hesitation, she says, “I don’t know, Rock. I really hate lying.”
I should leave it at that. I know I’m playing with fire, trying to enter into a fake relationship with her. But more than anything, I feel protective of her. I’m not cool with her mom doing what she’s been doing.
“I know you do,” I say. “Look, I don’t care either way. But if you do want to do it, you’ve got a justifiable reason. You’ve tried talking to her and it didn’t work.”
“Yeah. I’m truly at my wit’s end with her about this.” She sighs, looks down at her eggs, then glances at me. “You wouldn’t mind?”
I shrug. “No.”
“Well…I’ll think about it.”
For the rest of breakfast, we mostly talk about bar stuff. But I can tell Emily is still thinking about her mom, and after I come back after clearing our plates, I find her typing on her phone.
She blows some air out from her lips and looks up at me with an anxious expression.
“Here goes nothing,” she says, her thumb hovering above the send button.