Page 5 of Almost Ours

"Jesus, Josh," Ewan looks at me with bug-eyes. I’ve made lots of jokes about him being a ginger Tom Hardy, but that seems particularly true with his new haircut. It’s almost a buzzcut, but not quite. His coat collar is folded over on one side, his black t-shirt long on him, covering the top of his grey jeans. "Announce yourself next time!"

"You're standing outside my room," I reply flatly, glancing between them. "Why would I announce myself?"

Brooke smooths one hand over her long, dark curls, even though there isn’t a hair out of place. “We—um—we were just—”

"Talking about me?" I offer, stepping into the doorway and leaning against the frame, using my height to my advantage. Brooke grimaces, and Ewan winces beside her.

"We weren't saying anything bad," she rushes to defend, her beige trench coat swishing as she shifts uncomfortably.

"That's debatable," I deadpan.

Ewan elbows her. "Told you he'd hear."

She glares at him. "Well, maybe if someone didn't talk at full volume—"

I hold up a hand. "Can the domestic wait? I'm assuming you want something?”

"Coffee." She instantly brightens, turning away from her boyfriend. "Come for coffee with us?"

I stare at her. Then at Ewan. Then back at her. "Who's the friend you're trying to set me up with?"

Her mouth falls open. "I—I'm not—"

"Brooke," Ewan is resigned, "he knows."

"No,” I sneer but there’s no real bite in it. I know Brooke means well, she’s just a meddlesome busybody. “I overheard. Who is she?"

She doesn’t bother to lie. "Fine. Yes. I invited someone. But she's lovely, and you'll get on with her."

I fold my arms. "Why would you assume that?"

"Because you need friends, Josh."

"I have friends."

"You have Ewan."

"Exactly," Ewan puffs his chest, proud for some reason. “I’m good enough.”

"She's not a setup," Brooke quickly pushes on, nervously checking her watch. "Not like that. I... thought you two might click."

This is my fault for opening the door. If I'd waited another few minutes, they'd have walked away, and I could've pretended I didn't hear and knew nothing about any of this.

Ewan claps me on the shoulder. He's the biggest guy I know. He's got the width; I've got the height. He's ginger; I'm dark-haired. How he landed Brooke—pint-sized, long chocolate-brown curls falling down her back, angelic face, dazzling brown eyes, and flawless dark skin—I will never understand.

"Come on," Ewan coaxes. "Let's get some air, some caffeine, and some sunlight."

"I'm not a fucking house plant, Ewie."

Brooke looks a mixture of sceptical and unimpressed. "Could've fooled me. You look like you haven't left this building in three days."

"It's been one," I correct, slightly brattish. I've no real reason to be this annoyed but I don't like being ambushed.

Brooke waggles a delicate finger at me. "That's not better, Joshua."

I pull in a breath, but it’s shallow and sour. “Do I really have to come?”

“Yes.”