I finish my beer and sort through the drawers until I find one with office supplies. At first I grab the sticky notes, but they cover a better option. Walking down the hall, I see Chase kept his door open after shutting off the light I left on. An invitation. Not that I need one.

Sure enough, he’s passed out. One thing never-changing about my best friend, my brother, is his ability to sleep through almost anything. We used to screw with him all the time but over the years matured. Given our current circumstances, I think a little throwback is in order.

I pop the top off the permanent marker on my way in to leave a love note that doubles as a fuck you. A sentiment from me to him that says, who needs a home when I have a douchebag like him? And to make sure he sees it, I scrawl it right across his bare chest.

Bro is where the heart is.

Although, if I want to avoid more kitten allegations, I might need to admit a bit of mine might be in Ohio, too.

20

REMI

“Here I thought I’d have to wait until the weekend to see you.”

I trap my phone in my skirt’s hem, narrowing my eyes at Roman. “Were you planning on kidnapping me?”

“It would be abduction, but we both know you’d come willingly.” He gets a shrug while I shove my earbuds in my bag. He’s right. “I did plan to track you down, though.”

“Mysterious and intriguing,” I tease.

A lady leads her dog by us on the sidewalk, not paying attention, but I still scan for anyone else. Roman’s in street clothes, clearly off-duty. Nothing about us talking in the town square should translate into anything, but a moment passes between us. He hooks his head in the direction he was going. We walk to his car not too far away.

“Silly,” I say, sliding into the passenger seat.

He holds the doorframe, a scowl aimed at me. “If you’re about to make fun of my car again, maybe you should keep walking.”

I press my lips together while he closes my door, muttering under his breath.

His car isn’t silly. A black two-door classic something he loves more than life. What’s silly is watching him fold himself into it because he won’t give it up.

As he contorts to fit in the driver’s seat, I look out the window and suppress a laugh. I might have taken my sweet time in the square to talk to Foster longer, but I’m near shivering under my coat, and a warm ride from Roman beats the cold any day.

“So, are you no longer satisfied with our emoji-only conversations?” I tilt my head at him as he pulls from the curb. “The paper, paper, weary face, pen, repeat, steam coming out the nose text was great.”