Free More by Clare James

Hard.
    “Geez, Jules.” Foster rubs the point of pain. “What the hell was that for?”
    “For acting like a caveman, you moron.”
    “Me, acting like a moron? Shit, Jules. I can’t believe you have to work with him all summer.”
    “It’s fine. He’s not a bad guy. Friday night was messed up—for everyone. Can we forget it and start over?”
    “I don’t think we can,” Foster mumbles.
    “Please, Foster. Don’t fuck this up for me. I need this internship and I don’t need to rock the boat with any of the D and D staff.”
    Foster tilts his head to the side, obviously hurt at my words.
    “I’ll play nice,” he says. “I’ll never fuck things up for you again, Jules.”
    “Oh, come on,” I say, guilt lancing through my chest. “That’s not what I meant.” I rub my head, exhaustion taking over.
    Foster reaches his arm around my shoulders to pull me in for a kiss. “It’s fine. Rest, it’s been a long day.”
    I lean back and let my eyes close for a minute.
    “Hey, not yet.” Foster tickles my side. “You need your meds and lunch, and it just so happens I have both waiting at the apartment. Your favorite,” he teases.
    “Chips and dip?” I ask, opening one eye.
    “Better,” he says. “Grilled cheese with bacon and tomato soup.”
    “ Your tomato soup?” My mouth is already watering.
    “You know it.”
    Don’t I ever. Man, I could so get used to this treatment.
    My heart clenches knowing when our time runs out, I’m going to be in a world of hurt.

Chapter 16
    Foster

    That smug, preppy ass mother fucker. It appears I’m going to pay for an entire lifetime of bad karma this summer. I mean, how the hell am I supposed send her off to work every day to that guy?
    Jake—what kind of name is that anyway? Pretentious. That’s what kind of name it is. And perfect for Jules.
    Don’t fuck this up for me, she said. I’m starting to think she meant more than the internship. Maybe she meant the guy too. Christ knows how many of her relationships I’ve sabotaged in the past for my own selfish purposes.
    I look at her sleeping in the bedroom now. So peaceful, beautiful. Perfect. Maybe she really does belong with a Jake. The two of them could be attorneys, live in the burbs, pop out a few kids, and have a great life. Better than anything I could offer her.
    Everyone thinks I’m a fuck-up because of the drinking, the drugs, the women. But I don’t have a problem with any of that stuff. It’s guilt, distraction, weakness…it’s also helped me stay away from Jules, or at least to stop our relationship from taking the course we both want it to. Because if I did that, Noah would tell Jules that we were only dating a few weeks before I cheated on her. With my best friend’s girlfriend. He’d say I’m a lowlife who doesn’t deserve her.
    He’d be right.
    ~~~

    The next day I hold it together. It’s pretty damn impressive if I do say so. I get Jules off to work in the morning and pick her up in the evening without any comments about the douchebag. We share stories about work, eat dinner together, and fall into an easy pattern. A friendly pattern, of the platonic sort.
    I may not be happy about that, but living with Jules is about as good as it gets. I’m learning all kinds of new things about her. Things I never knew, like she brushes her teeth like seven times a day, she’s incredibly passionate about recycling, and she only watches the news on PBS, which she tells me is the only reliable source of information.
    And when she’s not completely doped up on pain medication, she needs to read to fall asleep. Her bedside table is piled with books. Everything from mystery and romance to sci-fi and classics. Last night she was having a hard time propping up her worn paperback of Gone with the Wind .
    “I read it every summer,” she told me.
    “How do I not know this?” I asked her, floored there was so much I didn’t know.
    “Because I am a deep and complicated soul?” She