Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Thirty-Three: But How Do You Know You've Tried Enough?

"You look different," Zoe commented, eyeing him up as Josh was folded over Mark's couch, trying to reach a fallen die.

"My ass is jutting in the air and my head is down here," he replied, feeling the blood pooling in his upturned brain. "Could that have something to do with it?"

"Debatable. There are times I can't tell one from the other."

This was what he got for opening the door for her just a little. He contemplated throwing the die he'd just retrieved at Mark's head, for having gotten him into this mess in the first place. "Why do I keep coming to these nights?"

"The home-cooked soup, when you don't steal it," Sam quipped from across the room.

"I've apologized for that so often that they're considering including my photo in the dictionary next to 'I'm sorry.'" He straightened, blood flowing more naturally now that he wasn't trying to stand on his head.

Sam rolled her eyes. "'I'm sorry' isn't in the dictionary. 'Dumbass' is, though."

He turned to face Zoe. "A little help here?"

"Nah, you can handle her. Or I can whisk you away to the corner bodega, if you'd rather hide."

"The bodega? Please tell me you didn't freeze the beers again."

"I didn't freeze the beers again," she deadpanned, over Dan's whiny, "She totally froze the beers again."

Josh sighed as he followed her out the door. "Once. A guy takes some soup once, and he's in the doghouse forever. But you get to freeze beers every other week and no one bats an eyelash."

Zoe batted all her eyelashes on cue. "Didn't you know? It's one of the advantages of being a Manic Pixie Menace." The damn nickname was capitalized, no doubt.

"Okay," she said once they were going down the stairs, "let me try this again: You look different."

Josh shrugged. "I don't feel different. I haven't done anything different. My hair is the same, clothes are the same, I'm the same I was last week. I have no clue why you think that."

"Not last week, it's been months now. There's just something about you that feels different. I can't put my finger on it. It's your eyebrows, I think."

"My eyebrows?" That alone made Josh raise them, fighting the urge to take out his cell phone and look to see if anything was out of place.

"Yup. They're not furrowed all the time anymore. You look less stressed."

Ah. That. Was it that evident? His decision to embrace the good things Emery had brought into his life had relieved him of some stress, yes. He felt happier most of the time, lighter. That was probably it.

"See? And now you're smiling for no reason. Different. Called it." She turned to face him as they were both zipping up their coats, mischief in her eyes. "Is it Emery?"

"Is everything Emery with you guys?" He felt unreasonably incensed that she'd think that, nevermind that he'd just been thinking it himself. Why couldn't she assume he had something else affecting his life, other than Emery?

"Emery, then," she replied, as if Josh's reaction were some sort of confirmation.

The cold November air had frozen her brain, and it'd gotten stuck on the last thing Josh had said. Either that or he was being childish, so it was clearly 'that'. He was silent the whole way, which was also not childish.

The bodega felt like an oven in comparison to the street. Maybe now that they were indoors again Zoe's brain would thaw and it'd be safe to speak. "If you think people are that easy to read you should be a shrink."