“You can’t just come into someone’s house and eat all their lasagna.”
“You said I could have it!” he shouted. “Besides, this is barely enough for one person!”
“You’re so entitled! The lasagna was to share!”
“Then have the rest of it,” he said angrily.
“There’s barely any left.”
“I cannot believe we’re fighting about food!” he scoffed. “I’ll buy you some more.”
“With what money?” I retorted, glaring at the container. There were only two bites left. I rage-ate them. “This is the worst day ever,” I complained.
“You’re telling me,” Evan said, crossing his muscular arms over his ripped bare chest. “I don’t even see HBO Go on your laptop.”
4
Evan
“So no streaming then?”
Ivy’s gaze was ice. I felt slightly bad about eating her food.
“We’ll make it up to her, won’t we, Fergus?” I said to the cat as Ivy shuffled back around the bed to the kitchen.
She was wearing a long T-shirt and yoga pants. I suddenly wondered what we were going to do about the sleeping arrangements. I would have slept on the floor, but there literally wasn’t any room. My office at my company headquarters was bigger than this place.
Ivy had made it cozy, though. Weddings in the City was considered one of the trendiest wedding companies in Manhattan, as Camilla had liked to tell everyone. And Ivy had decorated the space. There were café lights that let off a warm glow, a few plants that were clinging to life, and vintage record covers decorating a wall. The bedspread was soft and white. A fabric-covered bulletin board held pictures of smiling brides, calligraphy wedding invitations, and a fancy three-story penthouse with a huge clock window. On the photos, Ivy had written #Goals in fancy gold script.
I leaned back against the mound of pillows with Fergus curled into the crook of my arm. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to leave, but after dealing with not just the terrible wedding day but also the months leading up to it, during which Camilla would screech and throw things at me, it was nice to be in Ivy’s soft and comfortable apartment.
Though she did not have HBO Go.
“There’s YouTube and Netflix,” she said, coming back and sitting on the edge of the bed. I scooted over so she had more room.
She didn’t budge.
“You can’t possibly be comfortable.”
“You’re taking up the entire bed! My bed, the bed that I bought.”
“Guess she’s sleeping in the kitchen,” I told Fergus.
Ivy huffed then lay down next to me. Her arm accidentally brushed my bare chest, and an electric thrill passed through me.
Yeah, it’s definitely been too long since I’ve been laid.
I glanced at Ivy. She had her arms crossed tightly against her chest and was stiff as a board.
She’s probably not going to humor any funny business.
Ivy judged me as I scrolled through YouTube videos on the screen.
“Of course you would want to watch that!” she scoffed when I selected one.
“What’s wrong with a Call of Duty gameplay?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s just so predictable.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you’re not. Let’s check your watch history.”
“No!” she shrieked as I navigated to the tab.
I laughed as she wrestled with me. “Ooh, too bad someone’s arms are just too short,” I teased, holding the mouse out of reach. “Let’s see what we have here.”
“That’s my personal browsing history!” Ivy yelled. She had an arm around my neck and was lying half on top of me.
“So many Henry Cavill videos. My word, Ivy! And an embarrassing amount of Chris Evans videos too.”
“Gimme that mouse!”
“Henry Cavill and Chris Evans together at the same time! Scandalous, Ivy. What would the neighbors think?”
“You weren’t allowed to look at those!” she snapped, half climbing up me to try and grab the mouse.
Her soft breast pressed against my chin, the nipple hard under the soft fabric. I suddenly wondered what she would do if I took it into my mouth then turned us over…
Fergus yowled at her, and Ivy scuttled back, releasing me. Whatever moment might have happened was cut short as Fergus jumped into my arms.
Cockblocked by a cat.
I petted the big Maine Coon.
“He was just trying to protect you from me, his actual owner, who scrimps and saves to buy him only the fancy cat food,” Ivy said.
“Poor Fergus,” I cooed, stroking his soft fur. “Let’s watch a cat video. That will cheer you up, big guy!”
“Fergus doesn’t like seeing other cats,” Ivy said.
“I’m starting to feel very honored that Fergus likes me so much.”
“Don’t get too excited,” Ivy said, disgusted. “He also gets this happy about eating out of the trash can.”
I fell asleep to pet treat baking videos and woke up early the next morning to Ivy shrieking.
“Fergus, you coughed up a hairball on me!”
I looked down blearily. There was a grey, wet lump on Ivy’s side of the bed.
“He just needed to get that out,” I said, lying back down and snuggling the cat next to me. “Maybe we can get Ivy to make us some coffee and clean up that hairball.”
Ivy yanked the covers off me.
“Get out,” she snapped.
“But it’s so cozy.” I yawned.
She threw my suit on top of me. Fergus yowled in frustration.
“What the hell?” I protested.
Ivy bared her teeth.
“You can’t come into my house, eat my lasagna, leave your clothes all over the place, co-opt my cat, and then tell me to clean up after you and make you coffee!”
“I’m the victim here,” I reminded her.
“Are you? Because all I see is a spoiled man-child. And you know what?” she continued. “You and Camilla should have gotten married. She’s a sociopathic bridezilla, and you’re an entitled billionaire. You two are a match made in hell. I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for you.”
“Yeah, and I can’t believe I came here expecting sympathy from you!” I spat, swinging my long legs off the bed to stand in front of her. “All you do is sit in your sad little apartment and plan weddings. It’s no wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. No man in his right mind wants to be saddled with an uptight shrew.”
“After having to suffer with you, I’m glad I’m single!” Ivy yelled then picked up a shoe and threw it at me.
I dodged it, and Ivy cursed as it hit the white wall, leaving a black scuff.
“Get dressed and get out of my house.”
“Doing the walk of shame, eh?” a garbage man shouted at me as I walked down the empty streets in the pale morning light.
I nodded in greeting then kept walking. I felt bad about yelling at Ivy. It wasn’t right. In fact, it was the type of shit Camilla would always do: throw my worst insecurities at me. I wished I had kept my mouth shut. Then I could have continued to stay at her place. Now where would I go? I couldn’t go back to the condo I had shared with Camilla.