You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle

Author:Sarah Hogle [Hogle, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, pdf
ISBN: 9780349424330
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2020-04-06T18:30:00+00:00

Nicholas isn’t laughing anymore when he storms through the door after work. I’m lounging on the couch in mismatched socked feet and a cherry sucker in my mouth, channel-flipping with glazed eyes. He’s sharp and ready for blows, while I’m about to nod off. I’ve got half a second to reach the number he’s dialed up to if I want to be any good in this fight we’re about to have.

Excellent. It’s been getting boring around here.

He strides over to stand between my feet, eyes flashing. His hair should look awful, but it’s raining outside so it’s doing this unfortunately sexy thing instead, falling across his forehead in damp, gleaming waves. I narrow my eyes and bite down hard on the candy. “What’s up?” I drawl.

“Give me your phone.”

I make a sound like Pah! “What? No.”

“You ruined mine, so it’s only fair that I get yours.”

“I didn’t ruin your phone, dum-dum. I have no idea how a bowl fell on it. Maybe you should stop putting bowls in your bed.”

He pats my pockets, which makes me giggle. “Where is it?”

I shove him off, but he just starts grabbing at the couch cushions. I’ve made myself a nice little nest of peanut butter chocolate bonbons, blankets, Kit Kat wrappers, a paper plate from the Toaster Strudel I ate for lunch, and two of Nicholas’s watches. I’ve been gradually removing their links to make the fit tighter but forgot to put them back in his room.

“All day!” he exclaims. “The phone rings but I can’t swipe on calls. My mom can’t reach me on my cell anymore, so who do you suppose she calls next?”

“Hold on, let me guess.”

He doesn’t let me guess. Rude. “The office! And not my personal extension, either, since I have my phone set to voicemail. She’s been calling the front desk nonstop over every goddamn thought that wanders into her head. Wasn’t so bad when I had a working cell phone, because I could send her to voicemail and text back my replies. Short and simple. But no! Instead I get Ashley running in to interrupt me every five minutes, crying because she knows she’s not supposed to interrupt me for unimportant crap like this but my mom won’t give her a choice. ‘Dr. Rose, your mother wants me to send her a PDF of your calendar so she can mark down what time you’re taking her shopping this Saturday.’ ‘Dr. Rose, your mother’s on the line again. She needs you to come by after work and tell your father he has to see a doctor about a cyst on his back.’ ‘Dr. Rose, your mother wants to know if you’ll have time on your lunch break to go find those walnuts you brought to her Christmas party in 2011. Her friend Joyce needs them ASAP.’”

“Sounds like a busy day for Dr. Rose,” I snigger.

“I looked unprofessional in front of everyone! I could lose patients over this.”

“And yet you’re blowing up at me instead of, say, the

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