Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

“Mon?” I entered cautiously and tried to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

“Hey Ember, Bo, come in.” Monica held the door open and mouthed “Thank you.” I squeezed her arm in response.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Josh sputtered venomously through his teeth.

“Shut up, Josh. I couldn’t get you to leave, so I asked them to come,” Monica spat angrily. She stood cross-armed by her still-open door.

“I told you, I’m not leaving until you hear me out!” Josh yelled.

My wide eyes were still assessing the scene as Bo crossed in front of me and sat on the coffee table across from Josh.

“Have you been home at all since last night, man?” Bo reached for the glass of water.

“You mean since that bitch told me off?” Josh gestured in my direction. Bo’s free hand clenched into a fist against the table. Fury and hurt punched my gut and pricked at my eyes.

“Fuck off Josh,” I started. Bo tried to silence me with his hand but I didn’t follow. “It’s hardly my fault that you broke up with Monica. How dare you call me a bitch after you tried to take her home last night. Now you show up here like a drunken scumbag and demand that she listen to you? You’re better than this. Get the hell out of here and come back when you sober up.” My voice was angry and strained as I successfully fought off tears. Bo’s eyebrows shot up at my retort.

Josh stood and walked over to me until we were almost toe-to-toe. The venom and pain in his eyes commanded the hairs on the back of my neck to attention, one-by-one. I could smell the booze on his breath. I met his stare dead-on with a racing heart. A vacuum of suspense sucked all the air from the room; no one spoke, and no one moved.

“Josh, come, take a seat.” Bo slowly approached Josh, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Seeming to snap out of it, Josh looked at Bo and took the water, raking his hands through his hair. “Man, you have no idea how fucked up this is . . .”

I took Monica by the hand and walked with her to the bedroom while Josh rambled to Bo.

“Holy shit, what the fuck was that all about?” Monica’s anger boiled over; tears steamed off her hot cheeks.

“Monica, what the hell happened?” I whispered.

“He just showed up here, all wobbly and slurring, telling me how sorry he was, and maybe we were at the beginning of our thousand lifetimes of knowing each other.” Tears turned into sobs as I pulled her in to a hug.

“God. What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, I don’t want to have this conversation with him drunk. I texted you and tried to get him to drink some water. I don’t want him to leave right now because he’s too drunk to drive - which is how he got here.”

A soft knock on the door sent my pulse racing again.

“It’s Bo, can we use your shower?”

Monica and I stared at each other quizzically and shrugged.

“Uh, yeah, go ahead,” Monica said suspiciously; a fresh grin toweled her tear-stained face.

We heard the shower start, followed by garbled noises of protest coming from Josh. Monica and I peered down the hallway just in time to see Bo toss a fully clothed Josh into the shower.

“Shit that’s freezing!” Josh exclaimed as he sat slumped on the shower floor.

“Don’t come out until you get your act together.” Bo walked toward us. “Are you ok Monica?” He asked empathetically as he put his arm around her.

“Much better now, thank you. I’ve got some of his clothes here. He can change into them.” She turned back to her room.

“Are you ok?” Bo turned his question to me.

“Yea, why? Oh, the bitch thing?” I shrugged impassively. It really didn’t bother me.

“I almost decked him. Are you always that confrontational?” Bo asked, annoyance punctuated his question.

“Only when people are being asshats. Please don’t waste a punch on Josh, I like your hands.” I took them into mine, kissing the anger out of his knuckles.

Monica returned with dry clothes for Josh and we all looked at each other, silently discussing who would deliver them. Bo grabbed the clothes, opened the bathroom door, turned off the water, and tossed the clothes on the floor.

“Dry off and put these on.” He slammed the door shut, his remaining anger streaking through the door frame.

The three of us waited in the living room for Josh. I wondered how Bo knew a cold shower would help sober Josh up, but I pictured his sister and thought better of the question. Within a few minutes, Josh was back in the living room. He sank into the recliner on my side of the couch and reached for his glass of water, which inadvertently caused me to flinch.

“Ember-” he started, but I raised my hand to stop him.

“I just want you to drink that damn water so we can get you home.” I couldn’t make eye contact with him.

I wasn’t mad about him calling me a bitch; I was still mad at him for breaking up with Monica in the first place and then showing up like a total degenerate this morning. He’d honestly panicked when Bo told him that he felt like he’s known me for a thousand lifetimes. Who does that?