Just Three Words

by Melissa Brayden

  “Ha ha. That’s good, bitches and brushes. I see what you did there, but let’s stay on track, shall we? If you think about it, you don’t need them all,” Sam said as gently as she could. “You really just need one circle brush.”

  “Lose five of the brushes, Brooks,” Hunter said from across the room.

  Brooklyn turned to Hunter, wounded. “Et tu, Brute?”

  “I have to raise my hand on this as well,” Mallory said. “Overkill on the hairbrushes.”

  “When was the last time you used this one?” Sam asked Brooklyn, holding up the biggest offender. Old and battered. It’d been to hair war and lost.

  Brooklyn was unconvinced. “It doesn’t matter. It’s going.”

  “And look over here. There are…” Sam paused to count. “Twelve pairs of manicuring scissors in here. Twelve. We could write a Christmas carol and give each their own verse.”

  Brooklyn shrugged. “Manicuring scissors are important. I take care of my nails.” She held up her hand. “Look, neatly trimmed.” Sam sighed and ushered Brooklyn to the sofa. She understood that Brooklyn’s compulsion to hold on to everything she came in contact with probably came from her years growing up in foster homes where she had very little that was hers alone, but enough was enough.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to work toward a fresh start when you and Jessica move in together? Lose some of the extra baggage, and that way you can get new stuff. Together stuff. Together stuff is crazy romantic.”

  Brooklyn thought on this and smiled dreamily. “Together stuff sounds nice.” And it did. In fact, Sam loved the idea. Not so long ago she thought she’d be investing in together stuff in the not-so-distant future herself. That is, until Libby tore out her heart and stomped on it.

  “See? There’s an upside to streamlining.”

  Brooklyn offered a halfhearted nod that said she was trying. “Maybe I could get behind streamlining.”

  As Hunter looked on, she admired Samantha’s ability to reason with Brooklyn. She was a good friend and easily the sweetest one of their group, if not on the planet. But she’d dimmed noticeably once the conversation shifted to relationships. Given what that stupid ex-girlfriend of hers had done two days prior, she couldn’t exactly blame her. She decided to help the anti-hoarding cause. “So maybe a compromise?”

  “A compromise could work,” Samantha said, sending Hunter a grateful look.

  “Two brushes and four pairs of manicuring scissors?” Brooklyn said.

  Sam sighed. “Fine. I can agree to that. Progress is progress.” As Brooklyn headed back to work, Samantha leaned in next to Hunter’s ear. “If I find thirty-eight staplers in her desk drawer later, some of those puppies are gonna mysteriously go missing. Stapler heaven needs to prep for a few more stapler angels.”

  “I have your stapler back,” Hunter whispered.

  “That’s why you win the award for best new roommate.”

  The loft door slid open and Jessica Lennox strode into the room with two piping-hot pizzas in hand from John’s in the Village. And that was good, because Hunter was starving. And who didn’t love John’s Pizzeria? She’d gone out with the hostess there once.

  It wasn’t just the pizza that was hot.

  “You’re here. Hi, baby,” Brooklyn said and greeted her girlfriend promptly with a hello kiss. Hunter had to admit, they were a good-looking couple and really seemed to click. Given, this kind of thing—settling down—was a mysterious quandary she didn’t really understand. But she had to admire the forever quality other people seemed so fond of. Speaking of which, she should really give that yoga instructor a call.

  “Busy day at the office, Jess?” Hunter asked, snagging a slice of pepperoni and raising an eyebrow at the love of Brooklyn’s life. “You’re a rock star for bringing us the pies.” Packing was quickly moved to the back burner in favor of the newly arrived dinner. Her friends moved about the kitchen, passing around plates, napkins, and beverages.

  “Hired a new account executive,” Jessica said, shrugging out of her tailored suit jacket and letting her hair down from the twist she’d secured it in. She had a way of transforming herself from all business to laid-back Jessica in just a few simple moves.

  “Uh-oh,” Mallory said, her eyebrow raised. “Sounds like more competition for us to blow through.”

  “Humor from the peanut gallery over here. You’re very funny,” Jessica said and playfully tossed a breadstick in Mallory’s direction for emphasis, which of course she caught. She was Mal.

  It hadn’t been easy when Brooklyn started dating their biggest competitor, but over time, they’d found a way to make it all work. Humor helped. The key seemed to be not to take any of it too seriously, and to know when to leave work at work. It had been a learning curve, but they’d fallen into a livable rhythm. Plus, it made Brooklyn the happiest she’d ever been. Well worth it.

  “So I hear you’re moving in tomorrow,” Jessica said to Hunter. “Need any help?”

  “You’re going to move me, Jess?” Hunter asked, batting her eyelashes. “I’m honored.”

  Brooklyn handed Hunter a soda. “Don’t flirt with my girlfriend.”

  Jessica laughed. “No, I will not be moving you. But I’ll send over a few guys as soon as they finish delivering to our place.”

  “Our place,” Brooklyn repeated reverently. “I like the ring that has. Speaking of, there’s going to be significantly less to deliver once Samantha is done with me,” she said in her most pathetic voice.

  Jessica mouthed the words thank you to Sam. “Are you sure you don’t want to move in, too?”

  “Tempting. But I have a new charge.” Sam slid an arm around Hunter’s waist. “And from what I already know of her, she’s a handful.”

  Hunter shook her head and offered her best smile to the group. “You understand that her life will never be the same.”

  That elicited laughter. She checked her watch. Still time to call the yoga instructor. The night was young.

  *

  It was close to midnight when Samantha and Brooklyn decided to watch one more episode of I Love Lucy. Everyone had cleared out hours ago and left them on their own. It felt like the old days again, even though it was the last night they’d be roommates. The end of an era, and it weighed heavily on Samantha’s heart. She decided not to point that out to Brooklyn. Too emotional. Sam was the type who snuck out the back door to avoid saying a difficult good-bye.

  Brooklyn, however, must have had other ideas and steered them into the skid. “It’s our last marathon, Sammie.”

  “No, it’s not,” Sam said, brushing off the comment. “We have a million more of these things ahead of us.”

  “Not as roommates.” Brooklyn turned to her, horror stricken, as a new realization seemed to hit. “You’re not going to be my roommate anymore.”

  Sam nodded sadly. “I know. But I’m not going anywhere. And this is the right move for you. You’re in love. You’re doing the grown-up thing.”

  “But maybe I don’t want to grow up.” Brooklyn resembled a terrified child.

  “Yes, you do.”

  There were tears in Brooklyn’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, Sam. I’m going to miss…this.” She gestured between them and the room. Samantha understood the all-encompassing gesture and knew that it included the last seven years and all they’d been through together. And the tears that Samantha swore she’d avoid at all costs were now fresh in her eyes. Damn it.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, Brooks.”

  Brooklyn reached for her and she leaned into the hug. They were both crying and laughing at themselves at the same time. “It’s stupid,” Brooklyn said. “I’m going to see you at work every day.”

  “Definitely. And we’re going to go out just as much as we always do.”

  Brooklyn squeezed her tighter. “Of course we are, so stop crying.”

  “You stop crying.” Which only made them laugh again.

  They turned finally to Lucy and watched one last time as she managed t
o get herself into one goofy predicament after another. They laughed and shared a bag of microwave popcorn before Brooklyn called Jessica and headed off to bed.

  Sitting there alone in the living room, Sam had no one to call.

  She wondered what Libby was doing. If she’d professed all to Tanya since the breakup. If they were snuggled up somewhere, enamored of each other. Frolicking on an island in Jamaica. And then she pushed those thoughts from her head because they didn’t do anyone any good.

  She climbed into bed and pulled her duvet around her for comfort. Her world felt wildly out of kilter for a number of reasons. Her relationship was over. Her roommate was leaving, and a new Chapter of her life seemed like it was about to begin. She stared at the darkened walls of her room, terrified for what was to come. You’re going to be all right, she told herself. You’re going to be all right.

  She would, wouldn’t she? Because honestly, it didn’t feel that way.

  *

  Hunter sat atop the kitchen counter with Elvis asleep on the floor next to her as the movers carried in the last box. It had been a seamless process, getting her stuff from her studio to the loft. She owed Jessica big-time for the moving guys she’d sent over. Apparently she’d called in a favor and didn’t mind sharing the wealth with Hunter. All she asked was that they were tipped generously, and that she could do.

  “Where would you like this last one?” the six-foot-three, broad-shouldered one asked. He seemed like the type of guy most straight women drooled over. She had to give him credit, he was in shape.

  Hunter gestured to Brooklyn’s room—correction, her room—and handed off an envelope containing some cash for him and his two buddies, who must have already headed down to the truck.

  Mover guy wiped his forehead and smiled once he returned. “Thanks for this,” he said, holding up the envelope.

  “No problem. Can I get you guys a couple of waters for the road?” she asked.

  “That’d be awesome.” He followed her behind the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, but honestly, the loft was just one big open space with the two bedrooms shooting off in either direction.

  Sam smiled at her knowingly from the sofa as Hunter handed off the waters.

  “I didn’t catch your first name,” mover guy said to Hunter.

  “’Cuz I didn’t offer it. But it’s Hunter.”

  “Jonathan. Here’s my card if you ever need anything.” She accepted the offering, wondering what exactly he hoped she might need. But he seemed like a genuine enough guy, and who could fault him for being a little friendly. “My number’s on the bottom corner. Call it for…whatever reason.”

  “A ride to the airport for my six a.m. flight?”

  He laughed. “Um, sure.”

  “Awesome.” She studied him in all seriousness. “Bail money?”

  “Why not?”

  “Advice on what to get my girlfriend for Valentine’s Day?”

  A pause. “Oh.” And now they were on the same page.

  “So not that last one, then?” Hunter winked at him. It was her way of letting him know she was just being playful. No hard feelings, buddy. “Thanks for the help today.”

  “No problem. You guys have a great afternoon.” He hesitated. “And sorry about the, um…”

  She shrugged. “Why? I thought it was fun.”

  Jonathan nodded, attempted a smile but was out the door rather fast. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him, but then again, he’d live. She turned to Sam, who regarded her with a twinkle in her eye.

  “What?” Hunter asked.

  Samantha rounded the counter and poked Hunter in the ribs as she passed, snagging a water of her own. “You have to stop that. The carnage is piling up.”

  “Stop what?”

  “The breaking of hearts. It’s inhumane.”

  “I would never break anyone’s heart. I love hearts. Especially girl hearts. And other aspects of the anatomy.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

  “What?”

  “The dance. The flirting. The banter. You’re very good at it. I mean, I’ve been blown away at your skill level on more than one occasion, but I imagine it’s exhausting having all those girls, and okay, guys, too, figuring out what they can get from you.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m a giver.” She threw a playful smile that she punctuated with a raised eyebrow. “And now I’m your giving roommate. Surreal, huh?”

  Samantha laughed. “I’m happy you were able to move in. It saved me, you know.”

  “Yeah, but aren’t you just a little terrified right now of what the next year of your life, at the very least, is going to be like?”

  Samantha held her ground. “No way. You just moved in with about seven boxes. That’s about fifty-eight fewer than Brooklyn. I’m thinking you’re low maintenance, which I kind of don’t get because you have so many clothes it’s ridiculous.”

  “Correction. I wear a lot of different outfits. But I donate the old ones every six months or so. I like to keep things fresh and travel light.”

  “Kind of how you manage your women.”

  Hunter laughed. “Touché.”

  “At least you’re self-aware. And the clothes thing, who knew there was something I didn’t know about you after all these years?”

  “I’m willing to bet there are a few more tidbits left to learn. I have layers, Samantha Ennis. I’m a complex girl.”

  Sam shrugged. “Well then, this could get interesting.” She reached down to pet Elvis, who sighed and licked her hand sleepily. “I’ve never lived with a dog before. Anything I should know?”

  “Nah. Elvis is chill. That’s why we get along so well. I take him out a handful of times a day. He loves to chase balls in the park and would probably like you to pet him now and again. Now you know everything.”

  Sam looked from her to Elvis. “He’s never far from you, is he?”

  Hunter shook her head. “I think it goes back to his shelter days. He likes to stay close by, know he’s safe.”

  “That’s sweet.” Sam shook herself out of it. “I have a ton of work to make up after the last two days of rotating roommates. So I’m going to head downstairs.”

  Hunter eased back onto the counter. “Could have called that one. You have your serious numbers ponytail happening. And in about two point eight seconds, I’m expecting serious numbers glasses to appear.” It was how you knew Samantha was heading into the zone. She got her academic look on. The duality was fun.

  Without missing a beat, Sam popped the glasses on her face. “And now we go to number-crunching war on that new spa chain’s budget. What are they called again?”

  Hunter thought for a sec, biting her bottom lip. “Serenity.”

  Sam was struck. Hunter had a lot of sexy going on. Maybe she should take notes now that she was single.

  “I need to do more things like that,” Sam said, thinking out loud.

  Hunter stared at her. “Like what? Hitting up spas? They’re our clients now. I have a feeling you could score some free passes pretty easily.”

  Sam waved a hand in front of her own face in attempt to erase the confusion. “Not the spa, the lip-biting thing you just did. It was a good move. I need more moves. Part of my problem, maybe.”

  Hunter’s eyes took on understanding. And oh, there it was again. Sympathy. Sam hated that. “She made a huge mistake, you know,” Hunter said. “She’ll figure that out at some point.”

  Samantha took a deep breath and decided to go with honesty. Hunter was the kind of friend you could level with, for good or bad—one of the many things that was great about her. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not exactly exciting or edgy or ridiculously beautiful. So if you think about it, of course she fell for someone like Tanya over me.”

  Hunter stared at Sam, her expression carefully blank. “You’re a smart girl, Sam, but that’s one of the more stupid things you’ve said in life. Do you know that I had a mad crush on you at NYU? Freshman Psychology.”

  Oka
y, there was no way that was true. “Please. That is a total lie to make me feel better. You were constantly flirting with the blond girl who must have bought stock in midriffs. I watched it play out daily.”

  “Correction. Midriff blondie flirted with me. I was just being nice.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I’ve never told anyone about this.” And that was when Sam saw it. The touch of red that colored Hunter’s cheeks and hinted at sincerity. She looked vulnerable even, which was so not Hunter’s style.

  “Are you serious right now?”

  Hunter nodded. “I mean, it’s ridiculous to think about now, but I used to drag my feet after class because you took forever to pack your neat little backpack and I desperately wanted to talk to you.” Hunter’s gaze fell to the countertop and she traced the pattern of the granite with the side of her thumb. “We became friends not long after, and the rest is history. But you had firm hold of my attention for maybe—”

  “Two weeks?”

  “About a year.”

  Sam blinked. She took a step back, pointing at Hunter. “You’re funny. You’re very funny, and I get that you’re trying to do something nice for me. Bolster my confidence after a catastrophic breakup or whatever, but really, it’s okay.” She touched her glasses because she didn’t know what else to do.

  Hunter straightened. “That. That little glasses thing you just did is a move, by the way. A total move. And it used to drive me crazy. Believe me or don’t, it’s your call. But I wanted to sleep with you. It happened. It’s a fact. You’ve always been a head turner, and you need to recognize that—my only point in telling this story.”

  Samantha was staring at her for a beat longer than normal, and for whatever reason, Hunter felt incredibly exposed after what she’d revealed. A new feeling for her. It was a schoolgirl crush, what she’d felt for Samantha back in the day, one she hadn’t ever planned on mentioning to anyone, much less Sam herself—especially now that they were all as close as they were. But that longing had been real, and if it helped Samantha to know about it, well, she was willing to feel a little stupid in the process.

  A grin took over Sam’s face and she leaned her hip against the counter. “Wait. So you’re not wanting to rip my clothes off anymore?”