Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“Fancy,” I tease. “What’s the occasion?”
He hops into a standing position, his movements as graceful as those of his ballerina sister. “Where have you been? I’ve been sitting here in dire need of emotional support with nary a housemate in sight!”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Lee is melodramatic on a good day. Tonight it’s next level.
“What happened?”
“Another George bites the dust.”
Lee chugs half his glass, then sets it down on the coffee table and picks up the bottle of merlot. Next to the bottle are three empty wineglasses, which tells me he wasn’t kidding about sitting around waiting for one or all of us to come home.
He quickly pours a full glass and hands it to me. “Drink.”
“I haven’t even eaten dinn— ”
“Drink!”
Like a dutiful friend, I take a sip. “All right. So this is about New George?”
“Old George now. I broke it off. He was far too clingy.” Lee drains the remainder of his glass and pours himself another.
“Is it really considered breaking up if you’ve been dating less than two weeks?”
“One would think,” he huffs. “I sent a very lovely text telling him I didn’t see things going anywhere, and this bloke wouldn’t accept it! He showed up at my bio class today and ambushed me.” Lee’s eyes widen in horror. “Can you believe that? The nerve of this entitled boy! Forcing me to end things in person!”
My laughter spills out. “Oh, you poor thing.” I reach out to pat him on the arm.
Although, in Lee’s defense, demanding an in-person breakup from some random guy you met on a dating app and went out with a few times? That’s bold, George.
“I’m emotionally exhausted,” Lee announces, heaving a dramatic breath. “I stopped by the off-licence for several bottles of very bad merlot, made us a breakup playlist, and brought down my wigs. Shall we begin?”
And that’s why, when Jack and Jamie stumble in from the pub a couple hours later, Lee and I are wearing matching pink wigs and dancing to Blondie’s “Call Me” while singing along off-key and far too loud.
Did I mention I’m drinking on an empty stomach?
“What on earth?” Jamie looks from me to Lee, then glances at Jack. “You seeing this too, mate?”
“Oh, I am.” Jack’s blue eyes track our frenetic dance moves for a moment. Then he shrugs and says, “Right then. What’re we drinking?”
11
OUR PARTY OF TWO TURNS INTO A PARTY OF FOUR AS OUR roommates crack open another bottle and proceed to empty it in five minutes flat. At some point, Jamie orders pizza, and we eat while the music plays and the wine flows. Lee forces us to play a game called “tell me a secret,” which basically just entails him demanding to know private details about our lives and then pouting each time we don’t want to spill the tea.
It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I love it here. I love these guys and this flat and the freedom—the freedom.
It’s even more intoxicating than all the alcohol we’re consuming.
Now it’s nearing midnight, the table is littered with empty pizza boxes, and the wine’s all gone. I’m curled up in the armchair, drunk and happy. Jamie’s on one end of the couch. Lee’s on the other, swiping on his phone. Jack’s lying on the carpet, his head resting on a throw pillow as he watches soccer on TV.
“You know what, Abbs?” Jamie drawls from his perch.
“What, Jamie?” I play along.
“You’re a cool bird.”
That makes me smile. “Thank you.”
“Thought you were sort of meek when you first showed up,” he continues, his tone contemplative, words a bit slurred.
I’m miffed by that comment. “Meek?”
“Meek. Timid. Maybe a wee bit of a prude, yeah?” He’s on a roll, too inebriated to realize I’m glaring at him. “But you’re good fun. You’ve got banter.”
“Thanks?” I’m still not sure if I’m angry he thought I was a prude.
“And you’re fit,” he adds, winking at me.
“So fit,” Lee agrees, though his gaze remains glued to his phone.
His swiping finger is busy, busy, busy. Grindr, I’m guessing.
“Abbs!” he suddenly exclaims. “Come here and see this bloke.”
I go to the couch and settle between Jamie and Lee, leaning over the latter’s phone. “Oh, he’s cute.” I admire the profile pic on the screen.
“Says here he’s new to this app,” Lee says, skimming the dude’s bio. “Recently got out of a five-year relationship— ”
“With a woman,” I finish with a gasp. “Been questioning his sexuality for a while and wants to do some exploring to figure out if he’s bi.”
“Bi-curious lads are fun,” Lee informs me.
“Scroll up?” When he does, my jaw falls open, and I swivel my gaze back to Lee. “His name is George? Are you kidding me?”
“Bi George,” Jack supplies.
“Bi-Curious George,” Jamie corrects.
There’s a beat of silence and then we all hoot in laughter, because the moniker is utterly brilliant.