Read Online Find Me I'm Yours by Hillary Carlip - Free Book Online Page A

laughing and kissing between bites.
    Fuck. Even Lady Macmeth has a soul mate.

Chapter 14
    DAY 3—MORNING
    A forty-block walk and three cups of coffee later, I started to get a grip. Well, until I returned home and who was waiting for me?
    â€œCan we talk? Please,” my wretched roommate begged.
    I let Toupee and Boo off their leashes and they ran to my room. They wanted no part of it, and I couldn’t blame them. “Make it fast,” I said.
    â€œI’m sorry if you were upset, but you and Jason broke up!”
    â€œYou could have asked me. How hard would that have been? Just like you could ask me when you steal my clothes and my tattoos. What is your problem?” I was now shouting.
    â€œUh, hello… he’s not
yours
. It’s been like months since you guys dated.”
    â€œ
Dated?!
We practically lived together! And not
months
—one month, one week, and six days.”
    â€œStill, I don’t think you can claim any steak.”
    What the fuck does she mean? Stake any claim? I couldn’t take any more. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like our apartment was placed in one of those AS SEEN ON TV food dehydrators where fruit and meats are dried and then hermetically sealed in plastic bags with all the air sucked out. She was now stealing that, too.
    â€œI have to be somewhere.” I ran to the front door and as I was slamming it I heard, “In your pajamas?” No doubt she’d be featuring that look any day.
    Well, it WAS a little challenging riding my scooter in just a long T-shirt (all right, not that it’s any of your business but I DID have cute underwear on.) But I didn’t even care if I flashed the world.
    Coco answered her door with a welcoming, “Come in, you look like hell!” I was so relieved to hear that Blake was at a sound check for a gig he was doing that night. Coco made me Mexican hot chocolate with fresh mint leaves, and served it with warm mini croissants. For as bubble bursting as she is, my L.A. BFF can also be very nurturing. It all made me cry.
    â€œWhat’s up? Tell me everything.”
    So I did. ISH. I told Coco about Cooper. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Jason.
    â€œDamn, that’s rough. Sorry to hear it.” She refilled my hot chocolate like that would help. And in a strange way it did.
    â€œSo what about you? Did you watch the tape?” she asked.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œDid you bring it so we could watch together?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œI’m so proud of you!” Coco squealed.
    She thought I had some kind of willpower. Little did she know that the real reason I didn’t watch the tape was that I was totally willpowerless, and got my ass kicked so big and hard for it.
    â€œSo tell me more about Mark,” I asked. “Do you think he’s ready to date? Do you think he’d like me?”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t he? You’re amazing.”
    â€œThanks. Does he have any of his work online? I want to see.”
    Coco opened her computer and brought up the website for the gallery where Mark’s show was opening. “Check out current shows.”
    www.MadelynEvansGallery.com
    His photographs were phenomenal. Evocative and provocative, full of intricate details and soulful saturated colors. And each one wasn’t just a candid moment that happened to be caught. They were all deliberately and elaborately staged and styled with complete unhasty commitment. Like this:

    â€œThey’re beautiful,” I said, and started to cry. I tried to hold back, but it was no use.
    â€œAre you upset you’re not doing your art right now?”
    I shook my head yes. Then no. Yes, I am; no, that’s not why I’m crying.
    â€œAre you upset about Cooper? Is that why you’re crying?”
    Same YES-but-NO combo platter NOD, SHAKE.
    â€œAre you upset with me that I keep telling you to forget the hunt?”
    Again. Same.
    Coco’s the kind