ie

“I don’t know. I told her we’ll just be friends. I think she’s still with this other guy, she said something about him owing her money. That pissed me off.”

So she’s staying with another man because he owes her money, yet she won’t let Roman go because he gives her support. This bitch needs a therapist. Stat.

“You can’t be friends with someone that hurt you like that.”

He glances at me. “I can’t just stop talking to her. I’m not that kind of person. I’ll always be there for her. I’m like that. I’m too nice sometimes.”

I want to say something, but decide against it. I hope one day he’ll see that you can be a good person, you can be a giver, but you don’t always have to take crap from other people. When people treat you with disrespect, when they treat you like you’re nothing, when they don’t give a single good thing back, you can’t give them anymore than they give you.

I hope he figures that out. I truly do, because as long as he keeps giving to her, she’ll always take.

Because that’s what people like her do—they take take take.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. Time for a subject change. “My sister found herself a new boyfriend. He’s so freaking pretty.”

“Show me a picture,” he says.

I pull out my phone and scroll through until I find a picture, then I show him. He rolls his eyes and mutters, “That’s just rude. Look at him. He’s fucking perfect. I bet he has a perfect name, too.”

“His name is TJ.”

Roman snorts. “It doesn’t suit him. I’m calling him Calvin. He looks like a Calvin.”

“Calvin Klein?” I giggle.

He nods, grinning.

“It’s ridiculous how pretty he is, hey,” I say, taking my phone back. “She text me this morning saying she’s bringing him over later to meet me for a drink. You want to come?”

Roman nods, eyes wide, massive grin on his face. “Hell yeah I want to come. I need to meet this man. I better go home and find my nicest shirt, he’s going to make me look like shit.”

I laugh. “Pretty sure he makes everyone look like shit.”

“You know what would be funny?” Roman says, and his eyes light up. I notice they do that when he gets excited about something. “I’ll just be sitting there, and mid conversation I’ll just pull my phone out and check my reflection in it.”

I laugh. “Oh, my god, that would be so funny. You could wink at yourself, purse your lips, nod your head, really get into it. Then put the phone down and just keep talking to him.”

Roman laughs.

“I’d pay you fifty bucks to do that.” I chuckle.

“I’m doing it.”

“You’re an idiot.” I shake my head with a grin.

I make him a coffee and slide it over to him.

And we spend the rest of the morning laughing together.

Laughter, it really is healing us.

CHAPTER 9

“What time are they coming over?” Roman asks me, after our fifth beer.

He came over earlier than my sister and TJ, to have a few beers with me, but we’ve been sitting here for the last hour waiting for them, and our beer number is lining up. I’m well beyond tipsy, and so is he.

“I have no idea, so much for being on time!”

“They’re probably doing each other’s hair,” he snorts.

I burst out laughing. “Oh, my god, they probably are.”

“Come out to my car,” Roman says, standing. “I have something for you.”

I stand too. “Are you going to kidnap me and kill me, because that would be unprofessional. At least drug me first.”

He laughs, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the house and onto the street where his truck is parked. We walk over to it and open the door, when we hear a voice behind us. We both turn to see my neighbour standing, smiling at us. She’s never come over and introduced herself, but she always waves to me when I’m passing by.

“Hi,” she says. “I thought I’d come over and finally say hello. I never manage to catch you. I’m Amilie.”

“Hi,” I say. “I’m Molly. This is Roman.”

Roman steps up beside me and grins at her.

“Have you both lived here long?” she asks, shifting nervously. She seems like the nervous type.

“Oh, he doesn’t live here, he’s just my sex slave.”

Roman makes a snorting sound in his throat, but doesn’t laugh.

Amilie laughs nervously, like she’s not sure if we’re kidding or not. I’ll let her ponder that.

“Have you lived here long?” Roman asks her, putting his charming smile on.

Sucker.

“Yeah, I had the house built. It’s a nice area,” she says, smiling at him.

Double sucker.

“I think I’ve seen your pussy running around.”

I inwardly burst out laughing, and it takes everything to keep my face straight, especially when Roman looks over at me, a twinkle in his eye, waiting for my reaction. I hold my breath to stop the hysterical laughter from leaving my throat.

“Oh,” she says, her face going red. “Yes, that’s my cat. Sorry if she’s been bothering you.”

Breathe.

Do not laugh.

Do not.

“Not at all, I’ve pet her a few times,” he says, and I swear my chest starts shaking with supressed laughter. I can’t hold it in.

“Well—” she smiles, waving lightly “—I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night.”

“Bye!”

When she’s gone, I turn to Roman and thump his arm. “Oh, my god! I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t laugh,” he chuckles. “It was fucking funny.”

“It took everything for me not to laugh, I swear. It was so hard. I’ve seen your pussy running around.”

We both burst out laughing. I have to wrap my arms around my stomach to stop it shaking.

“Poor woman. She’s probably wondering who the hell her neighbours are.”

I nod, still laughing. “Yeah, I’ll get kicked out for being a nuisance. You’re bad for me, Roman. Seriously.”

He grins, nods, and turns to the car, leaning in to get whatever it is he needed out. I glance over the road and see my elderly neighbour peering out the window. She hates me. I’m not entirely sure why. She’s a sour old thing with a poor attitude. She never says hello, she never even waves when I wave to her. Now she’s literally peeking through the blinds at us.