Chapter 27. Haley
Haley
Two days after the incident at the radio station, I still couldn’t bring myself to talk to Ace about anything other than the most mundane topics—weather, traffic, dates and times and places I had to be.
We walked to school and ate in relative silence.
After dinner, I would go up to my room to study and he would go downstairs to game with Chad and Theo.
I wouldn’t see him again until morning, although I would hear him pause at my door on his way to bed, as if he were checking to make sure I was still breathing.
I would drop a pen or turn up my music to let him know I was still alive, and then the floor would creak, and his door would rattle, and I’d spend the next hour mentally kicking myself for being a coward when there was so much we needed to say.
The tension between us was so thick, even my housemates avoided us, so it was a pleasant surprise to see Aditi in the kitchen when we got home from my Sunday-afternoon shift at the Buttercup Café.
“I’m making spaghetti,” she said when she saw me. “Do you want to share a meal?”
“Can we make it for three?” I glanced over at Ace, who was staring intently into the pot. “Someone is grumpy because he hasn’t been fed.”
“That someone is her boyfriend.” He smiled at Aditi. “She told Ben I was her boyfriend.”
“You’re my fake boyfriend,” I snapped. “And wipe that smug smile off your face. I didn’t want to hurt Ben’s feelings by turning him down without a good reason. And I’m still not talking to you.”
“I didn’t realize we weren’t talking when you were complaining about the customers after your shift,” he said casually.
“Or when you told me you had a meeting with a prof but not what it was about. Or when you were telling me about what you were going to eat when we got home, how much laundry you had to do, and how many tests and assignments are due next week.”
Had I said all those things? There was so much more going on in my head, I thought I’d barely spoken to him, and I was even more irritated that I hadn’t been able to keep my mouth closed enough to make him suffer my silence for manhandling me at the station when it wasn’t even necessary.
“Did you salt the water?” Ace asked Aditi as he peered into the pot.
“Is that a thing?”
“Yes.” He pulled out the salt shaker. “Have you started the sauce?”
“Do you mean have I opened the jars?”
Ace looked over at the jars of spaghetti sauce lined up on the counter and grimaced. “How about I make something that has taste and isn’t full of sugar?”
Aditi held up her hands and took a step back. “Be my guest. I have no complaints if you want to cook.”
“I’m happy to help. You can both sit down and relax and talk to each other, because Haley isn’t talking to me.”
“That’s because you were bossy and overprotective.”
Ace snorted a laugh. “That is the literal description of a bodyguard.”
“I liked fake boyfriend Ace better,” I muttered under my breath.
“Boyfriend Ace isn’t being paid a lot of money to keep you safe.
Boyfriend Ace didn’t spend four years in the military, six months of security training, and two years in the field to get the experience to make the call about whether someone is a threat or not.
Boyfriend Ace was forced to take drastic action because he knew you wouldn’t follow the rules and he needed to get you to a safe place.
” Ace gathered up some tomatoes, tomato paste, onions, and spices and then shot me a smug look. “Feel free to thank me anytime.”
“Oh my God. Did something happen?” Aditi looked from me to Ace and back to me.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “Some guy got into the station and was wandering around. He said he had an interview, but Dante was out of town. Ace thought it was suspicious and tried to lock me in a closet.”
Aditi laughed. “I hate to say this, but I feel for Ace in that situation. I would never try to lock you in a closet.”
“And that’s why I’m talking to you,” I said. “You understand me.”
“I just have a strong sense of self-preservation.” Aditi took out some plates and cutlery and set the table. “So, did it turn out okay? Was the guy legit?”
“We still don’t know.” Ace chopped the onions with a light, quick touch, Master Chef style.
“Dante has been going through the applications but without a name or even a photo, he said it’s hard to tell who it might have been.
If it turns out the guy wasn’t legit, someone is going to owe me a big apology.
Huge.” He held his arms wide. “I’m talking meals, laundry, shining my shoes, making my bed every morning, maybe a little begging for forgiveness… ”
“Never going to happen,” I said. “If an apology is warranted, I might nod my head, but that’s all you’ll get out of me.”
“What do I get if I make you an amazing meal?” he asked, gently teasing. “No one makes spaghetti sauce the way I do.”
“You might get a few words of appreciation.” I knew what he was asking, but I still didn’t feel like myself, and for the last two nights I’d wanted to sleep alone.
It made no sense. I was positive the guy who had come into the station had made a genuine mistake about the interview date and Ace had overreacted to the threat, but I couldn’t put it behind me like I usually did.
I kept having flashbacks to Ace pounding on the station window, scooping me up and dumping me in the closet.
I kept hearing him agree that we’d made a mistake.
I kept seeing his face when he said he thought I could do better.
I kept waking up at night with my heart pounding and my body drenched in sweat.
“Where did you learn to cook?” Aditi asked him.
“From Haley’s dad. He was a chef. They had gourmet meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Her family very kindly let me hang out after school when my grandmother was at work, and I spent a lot of time there because I was friends with her brother Matt.
Haley and I would be her dad’s sous-chefs in the kitchen.
He taught me everything I know about cooking, and this sauce was his specialty. ”
Dad. I didn’t talk about him. I tried not to think about him, but Ace had brought him back into my life, and the last thing I needed right now was a taste of his special marinara. My stomach tightened and my appetite disappeared in an instant. It was all I could do to stay at the table.
“I didn’t know your dad was a chef,” Aditi said. “And why didn’t I know you had a brother?”
“They’ve both passed,” I said, my voice tight. “I don’t talk about them.”
“I’m so sorry.” Aditi squeezed my hand. “Is that why you don’t like to cook?”
“She was too busy singing, dancing, and getting into trouble to spend time in the kitchen when her father wasn’t around,” Ace interjected, coming in for the save.
“Biking on dangerous trails, climbing tall trees, playing with her brother’s toys, dressing up in her mom’s clothes, stealing cookies from the pantry, dropping water balloons on Matt and me when we came home from school… ”
“I like to think of it as a curiosity about the world.” I shot him a grateful look as the moment of darkness passed, but that unsettled feeling I’d had all weekend just got worse.
“I like to think about all the times I saved you from imminent disaster.” Ace added the chopped onions to the frying pan and then looked over at Aditi. “Once I even caught her when she rolled off the roof.”
I smiled at the memory and my tension eased. “I thought you just happened to be standing there.”
“In your mother’s azaleas?” He chuckled.
“I liked flowers but not enough to want to become one with the bush. I knew you’d been in Matt’s room setting a trap to get him back for painting stripes on your stuffed pig.
After saving your life, I went upstairs and dismantled the trap to save him from getting a face full of paint and you from being grounded, which you would have been when you destroyed his room. ”
I folded my arms and glared. “I thought it had just misfired. You ruined a perfectly good prank.”
“You’re welcome.” Ace grinned. “And to think I did all those protective services for free when I could have been paid like I am now.”
I sent out a group text to see if anyone was around and wanted to share the meal, and then feigned exhaustion so I didn’t have to explain why I didn’t stay at the table. By the time Ace knocked on my door, I’d slipped on my pj’s to get comfy and was trying to play away the memories with my guitar.
“I brought you a sandwich.” Ace put the plate on my desk.
“Thank you. I’m sure what you made was delicious, but I just—”
“I know. I didn’t realize you hadn’t told your friends.” He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest.
“Some things are just too painful to talk about,” I said. “It’s easier not to bring them up.”
“Eight years is a long time not to talk about your dad. I think about him all the time. I’ve tried to re-create a lot of his recipes—”
I held up my hand, cutting him off. “I can’t, Ace. Just like I couldn’t eat your dinner, although I appreciate you cooking for all my roommates.”
“I was actually cooking for you, because you’ve hardly eaten anything since Thursday.”
Damn Ace for noticing, and for trying to make me something nice, and for knowing why I couldn’t eat it, and for making me a sandwich. How was I supposed to stay angry with him when he was being so sweet? “I had Doritos and a cup of coffee for lunch. I’m not going to starve.”
He lifted an eyebrow in censure. “How’s that working for you eight hours later?”
“I forgot the packet of Skittles.”
Ace moved to the door. “We need to talk, but I don’t want to stress you out any more than I already have. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I won’t be able to sleep now,” I protested. “I’ve just added ‘What did Ace want to talk about?’ to my list of things to try and not think about while I lie in the darkness listening to waves and rainstorms to help me fall asleep.”