Page 86 of Revv

Before I can stop her, she gives up and drops the entire thing into my open suitcase in one messy pile.

I stare at it.

She smiles sweetly. “There. Packed.”

“Don’t touch anything else.”

“You invited me over to help.”

“I invited you over because you said you were one bad practice test away from throwing your laptop into traffic. The packing was optional.”

“Then why did you hand me a pile of clothes the second I walked through the door?”

“Because you were standing there doing nothing.”

Bex grabs another top from the bed and holds it against herself. She’s wearing one of Talon’s oversized shirts with tiny shorts underneath, her hair piled on top of her head, and she somehow still looks cute while actively destroying the organization system I spent forty minutes creating.

“Actually, I was eating the chips I brought.”

“And dropping crumbs in my bed while you did it.”

“I was sharing them with Guac.”

“That little gremlin does not need chips.”

Guacamole lifts his head from the middle of my pillow at the sound of his name. He’s been supervising us for the last twenty minutes, wrapped in a soft gray blanket with only his bald head and enormous ears sticking out. His eyes narrow at me like I’ve personally insulted his nutritional choices.

Bex glances over at him. “He disagrees.”

“He also eats lint.”

“Still less questionable than half the men you’ve dated.”

“I don’t date men.”

“Exactly. You just occasionally make terrible decisions with them and then pretend it never happened.”

My hand pauses over the toiletries spread across my dresser.

Bex keeps her eyes on the shirt she’s folding, but there’s a tiny curve at the corner of her mouth that tells me the comment wasn’t random.

I narrow my eyes at her reflection in the mirror. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“That was not nothing.”

“It was a general statement about your deeply healthy relationship with emotional intimacy.”

“Wow. One psychology elective and suddenly you’re Dr. Phil.”

“I’ve known you since we were fifteen. That’s basically a doctorate in whatever the fuck is wrong with you.”

I grab a rolled pair of socks and throw them at her. She catches them against her chest, laughing, then tosses them into the suitcase without even checking where they belong.

“Seriously, stop helping.”

“You’re welcome.”