“We’re talking about America’s Playboy. Of course not.”

“Okay, hypothetically, if he was into you, you really wouldn’t extend the four week rule?”

I hated this conversation, and we had it almost every time we talked. “How could I? There’s no universe that exists wherein I’m ready for a relationship, especially not with a sexy, rogue socialite.”

“You wouldn’t even be willing to try?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you, Brooke. I don’t trust myself or my feelings. I was a blind, naive fool with Jimmy. It’s painfully clear that I don’t know anything about relationships or love. How can I trust somebody else if I don’t even trust myself?”

She paused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push. I just want you to be happy and okay.”

I sighed. “So do I. But I’m happy, and I’m okay, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I paused. “I miss you.”

She sighed. “You too. It’s just not the same with you gone.”

I stared at my Passion Pink toes. “I just had to get out of there.”

“I would have left too, honestly. Part of me wishes I had.”

My heart sank. “You’re doing the right thing, taking care of your grandma.”

She let out a long breath. “I know. She’s the only family I’ve got. But I still wish I could have come with you.”

“Me too. There’s so much to see and do, but I end up seeing and doing all by myself because everyone has real lives and real jobs.”

“Everyone except Cooper Moore.”

“Goddammit, Brooke.”

She snickered. “You should sightsee with him.”

“Have you not heard anything I’ve said? I’m not speaking German again, am I?”

“No comprende nada, Maggiecita!” she sang.

“No, you don’t understand, do you? Pushy ass.”

“I amuse you, don’t lie.”

I smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I just got to work, so I’ve gotta run. I love you. I’m glad you’re hanging in there like that cat on the poster in Mrs. Jensen’s fifth grade class.”

“Thanks, Brookie. I love you too. Make those tips.”

“Waitress extraordinaire. Nothing makes you feel like a boss quite like getting yelled at over pickles and mustard.”

“Just remember: Burgers and fries, nobody dies.”

She laughed. “Exactly. Bye, Mags.”

“Bye.”

I hung up the phone, feeling bummed. I couldn’t text Cooper again. I’d watched a million movies. My toes were already pretty, and I didn’t feel like reading. I was tired of being all by myself, but Lily had a show. Maybe Rose was off. And if not, I could always go to Habits.

I opened my door, feeling a million times better when I found Rose on the couch watching TV. Her black hair was in a knot on top of her head, her hand was in a bowl of popcorn, and I think she was still in her pajamas — black spanky shorts, a gray V-neck, and dark purple knee socks.

“Hey, Mags,” she said around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Thank God you’re home.” I plopped down on the couch next to her and smiled when I looked at the TV screen. “Oooh, Clueless. Good one, Rosie. Turn it up.”

“You guys are all deaf.” She grabbed the remote and adjusted the volume.

“You and Patrick have super senses or something.”

She made a face. “This is why my room sounds like a wind tunnel ninety percent of the time.”

I chuckled and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “You off tonight?”

She smiled happily and recrossed her ankles on the coffee table. “Sure am, which is why I won’t be putting on a bra or makeup.”

“Mind if I keep you company?”

“I’d love nothing more. Bring It On is up next, and then Drop Dead Gorgeous. I’m feeling the Kirsten Dunst tonight.”

“Drop Dead Gorgeous?”

“Uh, hell yeah. You’ve never seen it?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

She sat up a little straighter with her face lit up. “Oh, you are in for a treat. It’s one of the most hilariously twisted movies I’ve ever seen, about a beauty pageant in Minnesota where all the contestants get offed one by one.”

I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and settled in. “That sounds terrible. I can’t wait.”

“I’ve got chocolate and whiskey, too. Girl’s night. Fuck yeah.” She raised her hand for a high five, and I slapped it gratefully.

“Fuck yeah.”

Cooper

Shelby poured us another round as West kicked his head back and laughed. Patrick and I sat on either side of him at Habits that night.

Lily was at a show, and Rose was off work, so when West said he wanted to have drinks, there was no way I’d refuse.

Everything was changing, shifting. Drifting. Not that it was a bad thing. I just knew that these moments would spread even further apart. I pushed away the thought that one day we wouldn’t meet this way at all anymore — like it was normal, easy.

I raised my glass. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks, West.”

“Alone, at least,” Patrick added.

“I know,” he conceded and picked up his whiskey. “But I’m not gonna apologize.”

I shook my head and picked up the fresh scotch. “All in, huh?”

“I don’t know how to operate any other way. Not when it comes to Lily.”

Patrick leaned on the bar. “All settled down and grown up.”

West looked into his drink and shook the ice around. “It’s so strange, but it’s the most natural thing. I’ve never been with anyone who I couldn’t get enough of. I think I could spend every waking minute with her, sleeping ones too, and never get my fill.”

I thought of Maggie, about how addicted I was to her. Two more weeks. The clocked ticked down, and all I could do was watch.

Patrick took a long pull of his drink and set it down. “I know the feeling.”

We always tried to come on days we knew Rose wasn’t there so he could speak freely — and so he’d pay attention. When Rose was around, he didn’t always function at capacity.

They’d had a hot and heavy relationship, once they got together. Then Patrick flipped out. He’d been through enough in his life to know what it meant to be hurt, and when he realized how he really felt about Rose, he bailed. And then he blew the bridge up behind him. He’d never forgiven himself for it, either.

West shook his head. “Just talk to her, Trick.”

He scratched his tattooed neck. “You know that doesn’t do any good, man. She’s done with me. I’ve got to find a way to let it go. I just don’t know how.”

West leaned on the bar. “Have you thought about, I don’t know, avoiding her?”

His eyes were on his tattooed fingers as he spun his glass around. “I’d never leave the house. She’s everywhere.”

West nodded and turned to me. “Tell us some stories, Coop. There’s comfort in that you’re still out in the world, unaffected by matters of the heart while Tricky and I swoon and pine.”

I shrugged, scrambling to think of a way out of the conversation. “Not much to report.”

Both of them raised an eyebrow at me.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“What’s going on with Astrid?” West asked.

“The usual.”

Patrick eyed me. “And you don’t have any girls on the side?”

I took a drink, wishing I could tell them about Maggie, wishing she were a stranger to them.

“Ha.” West looked at Patrick. “He does, but the question is, why doesn’t he want to tell us?”

Patrick smirked. “Interesting.”

“It’s nothing. Just a fling.”

West shifted to look at me full on. “Hang on, a fling? As in one?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Patrick laughed. “Well, don’t hold out. Who is she? A supermodel? Fuck, if they don’t have the longest legs.”

West nodded his respect.

“She’s just a chick I know. It’s just a hook up.” All part of the rules.

“So, what’s her deal? What’s the draw?” West asked.

The list was long, but I rolled through it looking for points I could share that would be juicy enough get them off my back. “Well, she hasn’t been with a lot of guys, so I’ve been educating her.”