Who the fuck is Renaldo?
Drew appears in my open doorway with a vase of roses in his hands. “You got another one,” he says, holding them up.
I sigh from the bed. “Just put them with the others, I guess,” I say, purposefully throwing my focus back to Derrick and his tiny pecker.
Drew walks in and pauses next to the desk, awkwardly trying to fit it next to the nine other vases Robbie has sent over in the last three days. Afterward, he plucks the card free and opens it. “You figure out what it says yet?” he asks.
“Yeah, about three bouquets ago,” I say, glaring at the spread of cards on my floor.
Drew kneels beside it and drops the newest one on the floor in the final empty spot. Ten cards. Ten puzzle pieces.
One big pain in my ass.
“You’ve got to admit,” Drew says. “It’s clever.”
“No, it’s not,” I mutter.
“You going to go?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Drew...”
“I mean, the guy went through all this trouble, you might as well give him sixty seconds.”
“I gave him years of my life,” I say, glaring at my little brother. “Not making that mistake again.”
Drew rises off the floor. “Come on, Mel. It’s Christmas.”
“Christmas is a marketing tool.”
“Yeah, no shit, but even Scrooge got his shit together for it. You should, too.”
I close my laptop and hop off the bed. “Get out of my room,” I say.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Mom and Dad put me in charge of the house while they’re on their cruise and I don’t want to, so tough titty, big sister.”
I point at the door. “Get out!” He doesn’t move. I try to shove him, but he easily slaps my hands away. “Drew, knock it off!”
“No.” He digs his heels in. “Not until you say you’re going to meet with Robbie.”
“One, I’m the oldest, so I’m in charge.”
“No, you’re not. Dad said you’d say that.”
“And two, no, I will not meet with Robbie.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to, so mind your own business and get out of my room!” I shove him again, but it’s still like fighting a brick wall. I groan. “When did you get so freaking tall?”
“Do you remember the end of Soulmates in Sixty Seconds? When the hero sets up an elaborate flash mob that re-enacts all the stages of their relationship in under a minute, making her realize that she really loved him all along?”
I blink twice. “You read my books?”
“No, but Robbie does, and that’s the point. Most guys wouldn’t bother, but he does. He supports you.”
“He invented a secret admirer and lied to me about it for months, Drew,” I argue. “That’s not exactly what I’d call support.”
“He did that because he loves you. What part bothers you the most, big sister? That it was all a white lie? Or that the man who loves you that much was right in front of you and you were too stubborn to admit it?”
I furrow my brow. “How did you know the ending to Soulmates if you didn’t read it?”
“Because Robbie gave me twenty bucks to remind you about it. Wanna get pizza?”
I groan and shove him again. This time, he stumbles back into the hallway.
“Give him a chance,” he says. “You know you want to.”
“No, I don’t,” I say.
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t!”
“Yes, you do!”
I slam the door in his face. I heave a frustrated, big sister breath, fighting the urge to stomp my feet while I’m at it. With arms crossed, I glare at the ten bouquets gathered on top of my desk. They’re the same roses he sent me before. That scent used to drive me crazy in the best of ways, but now the smell just gathers in my stomach like a rock. I should just spew them out and get the pain over with.
I walk over to the desk. I reach out and pull open the top drawer. Six little ribbons all bunched up together. I now know each one symbolizes one month of his sobriety.
I push the drawer closed, smashing the ribbons inside. If he wanted to celebrate with me, then he should have just told me. Why the secrets? Why the games? Why lie to me and then get my friends in on the lie? Did he want to make me look stupid, because I definitely feel stupid for ever falling for it.
Little Black Book presents: Love in Sixty Seconds.
Instantly Fall in Love this Christmas!
I glare at the finished puzzle on my floor. Ten little cards all put together to create a flier for Nora’s speed-dating event.
The timer goes off, signaling the end of the minute.
“Pass,” I say, giving this guy the only smile he’ll ever get out of me.
He slinks from his chair, still glaring at me as if I just sprouted a second head. Oh, well.
The next guy sits down in front of me. I let my eyes bounce from the crown of his head to his white t-shirt, which is all I can see above the table. Dark, shaggy hair. A worn-out leather jacket, but he makes it work.
I open my mouth to ask my usual filter questions, but he talks over me.
“Why are you really here?” he asks, his voice naturally deep yet playful.
I pause. “Excuse me?”
His head bobs toward the poor sap I just excused. “That’s the sixth guy to creep away from this booth looking like you just castrated him with your teeth. You’re nothing at all like the gruesome travesty I expected when I sat down.”
I shrug a shoulder. “Can’t handle me at my worst, yadda yadda. Do you want—”
“Did your friends drag you to this like mine did?” he asks.
“No,” I answer. “I came here for research.”
“Oh?” He leans forward. “You’re a writer?”
I raise a brow. “How did you guess?”
“You’ve got the vibe.”
Fair enough.
“I’m a novelist,” I confirm with a nod. “Just doing
