Trevor glanced at his watch. “Living on the edge? It’s not even midnight.”
“Way past the wedding planner’s bedtime,” Josh explained.
“Not tonight it’s not,” Heather said, scooching down on the couch and resting her bare feet on Josh’s coffee table. When had she ditched her shoes? And why was she so dang comfortable here?
Josh’s eyes narrowed. “Thought Saturdays were your big days.”
“Usually they are. But I have tomorrow off.”
Off.
It was a strange concept, not having to work tomorrow. But her work on the Robinson wedding meant that she didn’t have as much time to help out with Alexis’s and Brooke’s weddings, which meant she was off the hook for tomorrow. She’d offered to help, but they’d both refused. And normally she’d have insisted, wanting to make herself as indispensable as possible, but the truth was, Heather had wanted the day off.
She needed a day to think, although about what she wasn’t entirely sure. And maybe that was the whole point of taking a day off. To think about what you needed to think about.
Oh boy.
Heather glanced down at her half-drunk beer and set it on the table. Probably had had enough of those.
“What’s it like being a wedding planner?” Trevor asked, his hand shifting slightly as he toyed with a piece of her hair. This time, Heather was positive Josh’s eyes tracked the motion, although his expression betrayed nothing. Certainly not jealousy.
“Assistant wedding planner,” she corrected, out of habit. “For now.”
Her eyes locked with Josh’s even as she sat hip-to-hip with Trevor. “What do you mean, for now?” Josh asked.
“I’m up for a promotion,” she said, leaning forward and reaching for her beer again, although more to have something to do with her hands than because she wanted to drink it.
“Hey, that’s great!” Trevor said, tugging at a curl again.
Again, Josh’s eyes tracked the motion. Narrowing this time, before they came back to hers.
“How do you feel about that?” Josh asked.
She let out a surprised laugh. “How do I feel about a promotion? How do most people feel about a promotion?”
“I didn’t ask about most people,” Josh said, taking a sip of beer. “I asked about you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re being weird tonight. What’s up?”
“Yeah,” Trevor echoed. “You are being a little weird, man.”
“All I’m saying is that there’s more to life than work,” he muttered.
“Right, like this,” Heather said, gesturing around his apartment in irritation to where the three of them sat like bumps on a log with too much beer, and while his other two bandmates had been glued to a shoot-’em-up video game for the past hour. “This is a much better use of one’s life.”
“Hey, at least we’re not pissed off and cranky all the time,” he shot back.
“If I’m pissed off and cranky, it’s because I have a man-child living next door to me, whose life consists of pumping iron, screwing random girls, and having his mom make him pancakes,” she snapped, pushing off the couch and stomping toward the kitchen to dump the rest of her beer and be on her way.
“No way, sweetheart, you don’t get to backpedal,” Josh said, following her into the kitchen. “You knocked on my door, remember? I’d already told the band we needed to keep it down; you’re the one who proudly waved around your day off like it’s some sort of national holiday.”
“Hey, take it easy, guys,” Trevor said, following them into the kitchen and moving between them.
She ignored Trevor, hurling her beer bottle into the recycling bin, even though she really wanted to throw it at Josh’s head. “Well, excuse me if we all can’t have every day be an endless string of working out and fucking.”
“Maybe if you did a little fucking, you wouldn’t be so bitchy all the time,” Josh said, his face tight and angry.
Heather’s mouth dropped open in outrage, but she closed it as she realized there was far better retaliation than a saucy comeback.
“You know what, 4A? I think you’re exactly right.” She gave him a slow, sultry smile, saw his expression flicker in confusion as she stepped toward him.