8. That’s What She Said
EIGHT
that’s what she said
“Where do you keep the oil?”
I’m leaning into the hallway, calling out from the kitchen to Brianna, who’s been back in her bedroom ever since I finished bringing in the rest of my boxes.
“Um ... not sure,” she replies faintly.
After she showed me the main floor, we took a tour of the downstairs. This place continues to impress me. The guest suite on the bottom floor includes a state-of-the-art home gym, a music studio, and a home office. We never made it to the top floor, but Brianna confirmed my suspicions there’s a rooftop deck. I’m about to put it to good use.
“How am I supposed to make popcorn without oil?” I call back as I return to the kitchen. I hear a door opening and the sound of socked feet shuffling on the polished concrete floors.
“It’s called a microwave.”
There’s a tease in her voice again, but I’m about to school her anyway.
“No. I’m talking about real popcorn—the way we made it on the ranch because my mom refused to buy a microwave. It’s the best popcorn you’ll ever taste. ”
“You probably need to head to the store then. I don’t have that kind of stuff around here.” Brianna leans against the island watching me. She’s dressed like she was the first day of filming the music video: in a white T-shirt and sweats, with her hair in a messy bun.
Adorable.
I mentally smack myself for thinking that. Friend zone, friend zone. If I repeat it enough, I might be able to convince myself.
“Have you even seen your pantry? You’re fully stocked for the zombie apocalypse.” I scoff loudly. “I’m sure you have what I need.”
There’s a strange silence in the kitchen as I finish that last sentence, as if what I said meant something entirely different. If Jacob were here, he’d probably add, “That’s what she said ...” under his breath.
In order to escape the tension, because friend zone , I step into the walk-in pantry and flip on the light. I reach up to grab what I’ve been talking about and bring it back to the kitchen.
“See?” I say, holding up a clear glass jar filled with popcorn kernels. “Just some oil, salt, and melted butter, and we’re in business.” I’m on a mission, and I won’t be stopped. I put the jar down and head back to the pantry, hunting for oil.
“Got a craving, huh?” Brianna’s words hang in the air, just like mine did a few minutes before.
Friend zone.
“Not exactly,” I reply, moving bottles and jars around on the shelves. “But I do have a purpose for it. Found it!” I return to the kitchen, triumphant in my hunting success. “Now we’re cooking.”
Brianna’s eyebrows twitch. She crosses her arms, and one fist props up her chin while an amused expression grows on her face. “I’m ready to be impressed. Show me what you’ve got.”
Why does everything sound like it’s full of innuendo? Thank goodness Jacob isn’t here—the awkward levels would be off the charts with his reactions. He refuses to let these things lie.
Mentally moving on, I add oil to a pot, allowing it to heat up before I add the kernels. Brianna continues to watch, although my back is to her, so I can’t actually see her. I feel her stare though. Right down to my toes.
“Are you sure this will work?” She can’t shake her skepticism.
“Don’t you trust me?” I laugh at first. But then the silence behind me stops any laughter, causing me to turn around to face her.
Brianna’s facing the window, looking off into the distance. Deep thoughts, perhaps. I say nothing else, hoping at some point she’ll open up to me.
I mean, that’s what friends do, right? Tell each other stuff. Totally friend-zone appropriate. It’s not like I’m trying to find out her deepest, darkest secrets, and getting to know each other is a good thing. Especially in our circumstances. That is, if I’m acting as her public boyfriend. What if some reporter asks me a basic question even her fans would know but I don’t, and I blow it?
The popcorn starts popping, the smell of warm oil and salt filling the air around us. The noise pulls me out of my head zone and back into the friend zone that’s stopped feeling friendly. Brianna remains quiet. I sense her emotional walls all the way over on my side of the room. Of course, the word vomit decides to kick in.
“It’ll be done soon, and then we can take it to the roof. I mean, if you want to join me. But you don’t have to. I just thought, you know, a nice night and a cool rooftop deck go really well with popcorn. It’s cool if you’ve got stuff to do.”
Shut up, Zack.
“No, I’m not doing anything. Just watching this fascinating cooking demonstration. I can join you in eating the best popcorn in the world.” Brianna remains propped against the counter, watching what I’m doing again now, rather than staring blankly.
I finish prepping our snack in a large bowl and turn to face her once again. “Lead the way.”
She walks through the kitchen to a sliding glass door. As we exit the house, we pass by an outdoor living area alongside a large pool, complete with a professional-grade grill and a mini-fridge. Brianna walks to the side of the house, where we find a spiral staircase to the deck up above. I follow her as she climbs and do not look up as we go. I know what view I’d have, and I wouldn’t have friend-zone thoughts if I saw it.
The second I take the last step, I finally look up. Well, damn. The view literally takes my breath away. The entire valley spreads out before us. Sunset is soon, and I can only imagine how spectacular that’s going to be. The deck is ... decked out. Outdoor lounge furniture faces the spectacular view. Centered between all the seating is a firepit—the kind with glass stones.
“Wow.” It’s the only thing I can say.
“Yeah. It’s the reason I bought this house. I love it up here, but I don’t come out as much as I should.”
“That seems to be a theme in your life.” I make my observation verbal, because it’s true, and it needs to change. “Let’s spend some time up here. We need to get to know each other a little better if we’re going to pull this dating thing off.” I tilt my head. “How about a little game?”
Brianna looks intrigued. She only smiles her half-smile, but it doesn’t bother me. I know the full wattage one is in there now, and I have the ability to turn it on.
Turn it on?
Dang it. That doesn’t sound very friend-zoney.
“Sure, why not?” She shrugs and walks to the firepit, flipping a switch to get it started. Then she takes a seat on one of the sofas. There’s plenty of room next to her for me to plop down, but I decide to keep things ... friendly ... and sit on the chair nearby.
“Here are the rules. One piece of popcorn for every fact we tell.”
Brianna looks at me like I’m crazy. I guess she doesn’t want to tell me about herself. Maybe she just wanted to know about me and figures I can read Wikipedia to find out about her.
“Zack. No one can eat just one piece of popcorn at a time. It’s illegal. Popcorn is supposed to be grabbed by the handful and shoved into your mouth so half of it falls on the ground. Then you wipe your greasy, buttery hands on your pants when you’re done.” She crosses her arms, gaze intense.
She’s totally serious right now.
“That’s what makes it so difficult.” I reach into the bowl and take one piece, holding it up between my thumb and my index finger. I raise a brow in challenge. “You game?”
Brianna looks at the popcorn before giving me a combination smirk and shrug, indicating her approval.
“Good. I’ll go first.” I look at the popcorn but don’t know what fact to tell her. I didn’t think this through very well. “Um ... I’ve got nothing. I mean, there’re things I could tell you. I just don’t know where to start.”
Brianna leans forward, reaching into the bowl and snagging a piece. “Let’s change the rules, since you literally just made this game up and no one on the planet has ever played it.”
“Yeah? What rule do you want to add?”
“Be right back,” she says as she pops the single piece into her mouth before sucking the butter off her fingers. Then she gets up and sashays back down the stairs.
Crap. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this. It seemed like a totally safe, easy way to get to know her, but now, after watching her lick her fingers, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster for the friend-zone plan. That was a pretty flirty thing for her to do, even though I’m one hundred percent positive she wasn’t flirting at all. Why would she be?
Brianna makes it back up the stairs after a few minutes, a smaller bowl in her hands. “Here.” She puts the bowl in front of me, and I see little folded papers inside. “Take one. Tell me something about yourself that goes with the category on the paper. The popcorn tastes really good, by the way.”
I reach into the bowl and grab a piece of paper. “Told ya so. Best popcorn in the world.” I open the paper and see the word“family.””Okay, I see where you’re going with this. Good idea.” I wink at her. I think she might be blushing, but the dusky light outside makes it hard to tell. “Family,” I say, letting her know my category. “I have five older sisters who dressed me up like a little girl anytime my parents left them to babysit.”
Brianna laughs. “Five sisters? That explains a few things.” She’s shaking her head, still laughing.
“Explains what things?” I’ll admit, her comment puts me on the defensive pretty hard.
She looks right into my eyes. “Just ... how you are.”
We end up staring at each other after she speaks, our gazes locked. Her voice was quiet, vulnerable. And now my heart is racing.
Friend zone . . .
“Well, my turn,” she says, breaking the trance we were in. She pulls a paper out and reads it. “Ugh. Romance.”
My ears perk up. This I want to know. I’ve read about some of the A-listers she’s dated. Maybe she’ll go into more detail than a basic gossip rag.
“I’ve never been in love.”
“Really? Not with any of them?” I can’t help myself.
“I dated one guy in high school, freshman year. That could have been something, maybe, but it didn’t last very long. The rest ended up being for publicity.”
Whoa. Hold up. Char told me at my callback Brianna had never done this fake-dating thing before. I’m feeling suckered right about now.
“I see that look on your face,” she says, pointing at me. “Did you hear what I said? They ended up that way, but I didn’t know it at the time.” She sighs.
I decide to keep my mouth shut and let her continue.
“Matt, the actor. He took me out anytime he was in town. Fancy restaurants, parties, the works. We had a couple name too. ‘Bratt,’ of all things. Our picture was plastered everywhere every time we went out.” Brianna stays silent for a while. “He just wanted to be half of a power couple, build his name and influence in the industry. Then he told me, ‘Thanks for the help.’” She takes a breath. “It would have been nice if he’d mentioned that from day one, before I found myself with feelings for him.”
“Sounds like a major ass.” I find myself wanting to kick his.
“That’s what I thought. Until the next guy did the same thing. And the next. It destroys a person’s ability to trust others when they’ve been lied to, over and over again.”
Now I understand her silence in the kitchen. Shedoesn’ttrust me. Yet.
“Bree, I have a feeling this town has its fair share of phony people. I’ve met plenty of them—enough that before Char called me, I was seriously considering moving back home.”
Her eyes find their way back to mine, softer now than they were just seconds ago. I could stare into her eyes all night, but I’ve got more to say.
“I know out there”—I sweep a hand at the valley below—“we’re going to have to put on a show. And I’m willing to do that to help keep you safe. But I’m not like those guys. I hope you see that.”
She smiles at me. The big one. Yeah, I did that. I put that smile there.
“I’m starting to realize you are pretty trustworthy, Zack.”
She couldn’t have said anything better.