I glance around. “Absolutely. You said you had cleaning supplies?”
“Yeah, they’re around. Check under the sinks.” He pats two twenties sitting on a shelf by the door. “Here’s your money. Are you sure this is enough? Forty?”
I want to ask for more, but the idea of two twenty-dollar bills sitting there for me to grab like a thief after I finish here is like an oasis in the desert. “Yes, it’s fine. Thank you.”
“Would it be weird if I asked you to do my laundry? I’d throw in an extra ten.”
“Not weird at all.” I don’t mention I was planning to do it as part of the forty. This job couldn’t possibly be going any better. “Is any of this stuff yours?” I look around at random socks and boxer shorts lying on the floor.
“All mine is in my room. Shit, you don’t want to touch Logan’s underwear.” He goes for a pair nearby.
“No, seriously. Leave it. I got it.” I pray there’s a pair of rubber gloves under that sink.
He scans me from top to bottom and shrugs. “All right then. I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
I walk him to the door. It feels weird, staying in this stranger’s house while he leaves, seeing him out.
He points to Brett’s unit. “I’ll be next door if you need me. Do you want my number?”
“Sure.” I hand him my phone and he types it in. He hands it back and I text, Hello from Kylie.
He looks down at his phone and then up at me. “Cool.” He waves, his smile getting somehow cuter as it extends across his face.
When he leaves, I chew on my lip like I’ve done something scandalous. As weird as it sounds, my cleaning this house for money feels like a screw you to my dad and to Joshua, and especially to my mom, who would sooner slit her own throat than be someone’s maid. But I feel good about this…really good. It may be the giddiness of knowing I’m doing something on my own without my father’s money, but I’ve never been more excited to roll up my sleeves.
15
Brett
I sit at my dining room table, finishing my spaghetti dinner from a box, listening to Logan and Val play some stupid video game. I never got into them because we couldn’t afford them in my house growing up. It was more about work and survival. I brought one home for Matthew when I started working here years ago, so he’s barely known a life without them. But for me at sixteen with a job and school, the moment had passed.
A knock sounds at the door, and I open it to find Cohen on my doorstep. “Come on in,” I say, eyeing him. I know from Logan that Cohen was waiting for Kylie to get to their place so he could let her in to clean it. The idea of Kylie being alone in a house with a guy like Cohen makes me itchy. Cohen’s not only a good-looking guy, he’s a decent guy…someone I’ve found easy to talk to around here.
“What’s up, man?” Cohen asks, walking inside.
“Not much,” I say. “Did Kylie make it?”
“Yep. She’s there now.”
“Cool,” I say, waiting for him to expound, but he doesn’t. He walks over and plants himself in front of the television, arms crossed over his chest. “You want a beer?” I ask Cohen as I head toward the kitchen.
“Are you having one?” he asks.
“Nah. I could use a break.”
He follows me. “Yeah, me, too. How are things coming along with Kylie?”
I toss my microwavable paper dish into the trash and put my fork in the dishwasher, taking a minute to think about this. When I meet Cohen’s gaze, he’s got his eyebrows up, waiting.
I shrug. “Nothing’s coming along. We’re just hanging out.”
“You’re not interested?” Cohen asks, relentless.
“Why the fuck do you care?”
He holds up both hands with a smile on his face. “Never mind.”
He starts to walk out of the kitchen, but I nudge him. “Wait. Sorry. It’s just…” I check the living room, where Val and Logan are caught up in their game. “I don’t know. I’m figuring that out.”
“You’re figuring out if you’re interested in her? It’s usually not that difficult. Either you think she’s hot or you don’t.”
“She’s hot. I don’t think that’s arguable,” I say, and he shrugs with a nod of agreement. “It’s just that I don’t want anything serious.”
“Then tell her that up-front.”
“She’s not that kind of girl.”
“You think she’s the serious type?”
“She just got out of a relationship. She was engaged, actually.”
“Then she may be good with a hookup. Something to get her mind off the other guy.”
I wince, not wanting to be a rebound guy. “I don’t know. I don’t think she’s really like that. I may not be a hundred percent comfortable with it even if she was.” I shake my head at myself. “I don’t fucking know.” I get two beers out of the refrigerator after all and hand him one.
Cohen takes the beer and rests against the counter. “It’s not rocket science, man. Have you thought about asking her out on a date? You’re allowed to date a girl without it being a relationship.”
Heat seeps up to my chest and to my neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve taken a girl on a date.”
He blinks at me. “How long has it been?”
I stare down at the beer in my hand that I don’t even want, thinking about my fucked-up childhood and how I spent my high school and college years working crazy hours and trying to take care of my brother while my mom was getting sober and trying to go to school. And then I think of Madison, and how we went from hooking up to a full-blown relationship in zero to sixty. There were no dates, just a relationship that went sour when she found she couldn’t be my top priority. “My life just
