Too Much Information (Awkward Love 3)

“Guys, relax,” I say, shaking my head. “There’s a very easy solution. I’ll just go and stay in a hotel.”

“Really?” Annie sighs with relief.

“No way, man,” Matt protests at the same time. Annie glares at him. “What? He’s our guest, and I said he could stay. We can’t just kick him out.”

“We can when the alternative is kicking my parents out.” She winces and clutches onto her stomach, then reaches behind her to balance herself against the counter. Matt races over to her, full of concern.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs and walks over and wraps his arms around her waist. “I’ll sort something out, okay? Don’t worry about it. The last thing we need is you stressing out more.”

Annie smiles, kissing him on the lips.

“Hey, what about Laura?” she asks.

“Laura?” Matt repeats her name, like the idea never even entered his mind. I laugh because this should be entertaining. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. She’s thinking about leasing out her spare room, anyway.” He nods his head slowly, looking more into the idea by the second. “This is perfect, actually. She’s lives just around the corner from where you’ll be working. In fact, she starts there next week too,” he says, looking at me.

“At Mercy?” I say, my eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah, I told you that, didn’t I? She’s a doctor, like you.”

I start to laugh. This just keeps getting better and better.

“What’s so funny?” Matt frowns.

“Uh, were you not at dinner last night? Your sister doesn’t seem to like me all that much,” I point out.

“True, but what’s to say she’d like anyone she let her room out to?” he says with a shrug. “At least you’re a safe bet. You’re a known evil.” He nods, as though it’s been decided already. “No, this is a great idea. Trust me.”

I shake my head and let him go with it.

It’s a fucking fantastic idea, but one that she’s never going to agree to.Chapter Four

Laura“Ugh.” I climb into bed, still fully clothed. I face plant onto my pillows and then lift the covers over my head, wanting nothing more than to forget the last week. Tonight, was a disaster—from start to finish. Walking in there and seeing him sitting there at that table was like fate shitting all over me. That’s the only way to describe it because why else would this happen? How unlucky does a person have to be to go through this sequence of events? I mean, what next? What else can be thrown at me?

It’s like every time I actually manage to forget about what happened, something happens to throw it back in my face. I roll over, ignoring my phone as it vibrates madly on my bedside table until I can’t listen anymore. I reach over and switch it onto silent because even the soft vibration of my phone is making me cringe. I can see whoever it is isn’t giving up, so I give in and answer it.

“Hello?” I don’t even bother to lift my head as I speak into the phone.

“Hey, it’s me.” Becca. I burying my face farther into my pillow and mumble something incoherent. “Are you okay?” She laughs. “How was the dinner party?”

“Bad.” I swallow and force myself to sit up, so she can understand me. “Really bad. In fact, it couldn’t have gone much worse kind of bad.”

“Oh, it probably could have if you think about it hard enough,” she says, attempting a joke. “You could’ve been set up on a blind date with that hot doctor from the other night.”

Silence.

“No!” I can tell she’s trying to hold back both her shock and laughter.

“Yes. Just come over. Bring a hammer or a bag to suffocate me or something because I’m done,” I grumble.

“I really feel for you,” she admits. “I want to tell you it’s not that bad and how much worse things could be; but hell, I’ve got nothing.” She chuckles. “I will come over though if that’s okay? I think you need something that will take your mind off this.”

“And what’s going to do that?” I ask suspiciously.

#

“This.”

I stare at Becca and laugh as she holds up the copy of Mean Girls that I got her for her twenty-first birthday. Tucked neatly under her arm is a jumbo bag of buttered popcorn, with extra butter. She hands me the DVD and tosses the popcorn on the couch, then walks into the kitchen. I smile as I examine the cover because I’m already feeling better.

This movie has been our go-to flick since Becs sneakily—and illegally—filmed it on her dad’s camcorder for me when I was too sick to go and see it at the theatre in 2004. We watched the fuck out of that tape right up until her parents accidentally recorded themselves having sex halfway through the movie. It was the best way to recover from my fourth major surgery in twelve months. I nearly died laughing, while poor Becca was distraught. She couldn’t look her parents in the eye for weeks. I knew that camcorder was trouble the moment I saw it.