Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
NICK
I scrub at the counter, attempting to remove the unidentifiable hardened gunk stuck on there. What even is this stuff?
The front door opens and a moment later, Tanner pops his head in the kitchen. “Are you cleaning?”
I’d take offense to his confusion, but he has a point.
Cleaning has never been a priority for either of us.
But that’s left us with a junky, gunky house that I need to make look better in only—I check the time—three hours.
Which sounds like a lot of time, but we’ve really let this place go.
Especially since neither of us has brought a girl back here in… a while.
“Rachel’s coming over later.” I give up on the spot I was cleaning and move on to another.
Even without looking at Tanner, the surprise on his face is evident. “Like a date?”
My belly dips low for a moment, imagining it is. More like wishing.
“No. We’re making chili.”
When she’d texted suggesting today, I’d jumped on the chance. Her only request had been that we do it at my house.
“Okay…” His confusion is back. “I’m not going to ask.”
“It’s for a fundraiser we’re planning.”
Damn it. This spot won’t come up either. I need some kind of scraper.
“Do you want help cleaning?”
The reluctance in his tone is nearly laughable.
“No. I’m the one who invited someone over. And you’re on lunch break, anyway.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I didn’t want to.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious.”
He grins as he gets his leftover takeout from the fridge and sticks it in the microwave to heat. “What, like you’re Mr. Clean?” he jokes.
“No. We’re both fucking slobs. How’d it get this bad?”
I look around at the sink full of dishes, a coffee mug balanced precariously on top of a leaning tower of plates, and pizza boxes stacked next to the trash can, one still open with a lone piece of crust left behind.
Beyond the kitchen, Tanner’s overflowing pile of laundry rests on one side of the couch, a few pieces folded in a half-hearted attempt before the task was abandoned.
Unopened mail and takeout menus clutter the coffee table, and a layer of dust coats the TV stand, with faint smudges of fingerprints on the TV itself.
And that’s just what I can see at the moment. Forget about the bathroom, my bedroom—
Shit. I should clean up in there, too. Just in case.
I nearly laugh aloud at my delusional self. What are the chances I could ever get Rachel in there?
“Where’s the mop?” I ask as I shift and my socked feet stick slightly to the floor.
Tanner scratches at the stubble on his jaw. “I’m honestly not sure if we own one.”
Wonderful.
“Just get your laundry before you go back to work.”
I shoo him out of the kitchen and get what I can done, leaving time to run to the store to get the ingredients we need and shower, too.
And before I know it, Rachel’s at my door, wearing a casual dress that falls right above the knee. I’ve rarely seen her in a dress, and I blurt out, “Wow, you look good.” Paired with the long fall of dark hair down her back—which again, she rarely wears down—the effect is striking.
“Oh.” She seems startled at my compliment, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. “Thanks.” Her hands smooth out the skirt of her dress, almost like a reflex.
I gesture her inside, mentally wincing at my stupid mouth.
She walks past me, surveying the place. Her back is to me, and I take the opportunity to drink my fill of her without her notice.
The dress is more fitted around her torso than I’m used to seeing from her, and I have the sudden insane urge to walk behind her, my palms spanning her waist just to see how she fits in my hands.
To wrap all that long hair around my hand and tug, sweeping it aside to expose the column of her neck.
To bend my head and press my lips there along the delicate skin.
My hands flex at my sides as I turn away, banishing the mental image. That’s not what this is between us.
“I can’t explain it, but this place seems so familiar,” she says, slowly spinning in a circle, taking in her surroundings.
“I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you coming here.”
I sway momentarily as a thought occurs to me. What if Tanner… No, he wouldn’t. He’s always known how I’ve felt about her.
“I have been here,” she exclaims. “In there.” She points to Tanner’s room.
I blanch. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. When I get my hands on him…
“That’s my roommate’s room,” I say in as civil a voice as I can manage. “Tanner. Do you know him?”
“I remember him from school. Haven’t seen him in a while.”
In how long exactly? And in what capacity?
“No, this was from before you lived here,” she continues. “The Reyes family used to live here. They had a daughter our age. Oh gosh, what was her name?” Her lips twist as she stares down at the floor, thinking. “Tori. Do you remember her from elementary school?”
Unexpected relief fills me. I don’t have to kill Tanner after all. “Um, maybe?”
“I used to come over here to play before her family moved. God, I haven’t thought about her in a long time.
” A nostalgic smile crosses her face. “She convinced me to help her draw tiny flowers in the bottom corner of the wall of her room. I was scared her mom was going to catch us.” She laughs lightly.
“I completely forgot about that. Are they still there? The flowers?”
“I have no idea. I don’t really go in there.”
She stares at the door a moment longer. “Is Tanner here?”
“No, he’s at work. Should be home in less than an hour.”
She chews at her bottom lip. “Could we go in? Just to check the wall? Or is that an invasion of privacy?”
“Uh…” I scratch at the back of my neck. I threw all the crap I didn’t have time to finish putting away in Tanner’s room temporarily while Rachel is over. “It’s a little messy.”
She shrugs. “I don’t mind some mess. You saw my house.”
I hold back my laugh of disbelief. Her house was picture perfect.
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
When I open the door, she stands at the doorway, gobsmacked. “This isn’t messy. A nuclear bomb went off in here.”
I chuckle nervously. I dumped the laundry from the living room on his bed that he never took care of, along with all the bills and junk mail.
And that’s in addition to the other clothes that were already strewn across the room and draped over the desk.
Discarded shoes litter the floor—which is also a mess of my making—since they were cluttered all around the front door previously, creating a tripping hazard.
The effect wouldn’t be so bad if his overlarge furniture didn’t make the room feel smaller than it is.
“Yeah, I guess he needs to clean up after himself more.” I usher her forward, hoping she doesn’t realize some of those shoes are mine. “Which wall was it?”
She takes a moment to orient herself. “To the right of the window, where the dresser is. Is it okay if I move it?”
I gesture for her to do what she wants, but she isn’t able to budge it on her own.
“Here.” I slide it over for her.
Her gaze lingers on my upper arms briefly before she turns and kneels on the floor, hand brushing over the wall.
“Must have been painted over,” she murmurs. “It’s been twenty years, though. Guess it’d be weird if it was still there.” She stands and surveys the room. “She had this princess canopy over her bed I was so jealous of.”
I smile, imagining Tanner’s room decorated for a little girl. “I didn’t take you for the girly princess type.”
A faint smile crosses her lips. “I think it was more that she could do whatever she wanted to her room. I had to share with my sisters.” She steps over the debris on the floor, back toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get started.”
I move the dresser back and follow her out to the kitchen, and as I get the ingredients she asked me to pick up, it becomes more and more evident how tiny this kitchen is. Tanner and I never have a reason to be in it at the same time, but with Rachel here, it’s painfully obvious.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s like the walls are conspiring to keep us together, small brushes here and there as she gets a pot out from the drawer under the stove and I retrieve the cutting board she asks me to get.
At the very least, she no longer seems skittish, like I’ve finally broken through the last of her reserve.
She has me brown the ground beef in a pan as she chops an onion with quick, practiced motions, and I’m slightly in awe of her knife skills.
“Have you prepared garlic before?” she asks, holding up the bulb.
“Let’s assume I have zero knowledge,” I tell her, pushing the meat around in the pan, hoping I’m doing it right.
“No one ever taught you to cook?”
I shake my head, hoping she won’t press further. The topic of my parents is… a tricky one.
“Well, you have me now.”
And there’s that almost-familiar dip in my belly again. Even knowing she didn’t mean it in anything other than a friendly way, my body still reacts, physically swaying toward her before I catch myself.
She shows me how to break the cloves of garlic apart and peel, then mince them. I should pay more attention to the cooking lesson, especially since I don’t want to embarrass myself during the cookoff, but my brain is stuck on watching her instead.
The way her hair shines under the kitchen light like silk, a few stray strands brushing her cheek. The way her dress hugs her waist. The way she looks over to catch my eye, making sure I’m watching what she’s doing as she dices a bell pepper and jalapeno.
“Do you want to try?” she asks, holding the knife and half-cut bell pepper out to me.
“Uh, sure.”
Her fingers linger on mine for half a second too long as she hands me the items, and I would swear she didn’t mean anything by it, but when I look at her, the tops of her cheeks are pink.
“I’ll finish up the jalapeno,” she says, avoiding my eye.
I can’t figure out exactly what’s up with her, but the cooking lesson continues on, regardless. She shows me how to saute everything, drain the fat in the beef, then add the rest of the ingredients into the pot to bring to a boil and let it simmer.
“You want it to simmer at least half an hour so it can thicken, but longer is better if you have the time, so the flavors can meld together and the meat becomes tender.”
“Okay, so now what?”
She shrugs. “You just let it cook. Some people make rice to go with it. I like to have it with cornbread.”
“Yeah, let’s do cornbread.” I open the pantry, then realize I have no idea what I’m looking for.
She’s smirking when I look over at her.
“I don’t have the ingredients for cornbread, do I?”
“I highly doubt it.”
“I could run out and grab what we need.”
She holds a hand out. “Actually, maybe we could go to my house to make it? And I kind of have a favor to go along with it.”
“Yeah, of course.”
She gives me a soft smile. “You don’t even know what the favor is.”
I’d do anything she asked.
“You hardly ask for anything,” I say instead of that. “I can’t imagine it’s bad.”
Her gaze flicks over me, so quick I almost miss it. “It’s related to what Jae and I called you about the other night.”
I cross my arms over my chest, leaning against the counter. “Right. The prank. How’d that go?”
I can’t believe I forgot about that. Why did she want to tell him she went on a date with me? To make him jealous?
There’s a sinking sensation in my stomach. If she wants to do that, it might mean she still has feelings for him.
“It went fine.” She shakes her head, a smile on her lips. “Jae talks me into the most ridiculous things.”
“And how’d Kyle take it?” I can’t imagine he’d be pleased, even if he felt nothing for Rachel anymore.
“I don’t know, actually. I haven’t seen him since the pancake breakfast. But he texted me last week, after you left my house.”
She goes on to tell me about her and Jae’s theory regarding her video doorbell and Kyle’s access to it. “So the prank was really just us talking about the fake date on my front porch so the camera would pick it up. I have no idea if he even saw it or not.”
“But chances are he did if he saw me leave your house that quickly?”
She nods. “Jae has a plan for another prank with me and you. It’s not a big deal if you don’t want to do it.” She shrugs. “The idea of messing with him is kind of fun, though.”
“Sure, lay it on me.”
“Okay, so we’d go to my house and pretend like we were coming home from a date. You stand so your back is close to the camera, so he can’t see anything, only hear us. And…” Her hands fidget in front of her, twisting together. “God, this is so stupid. Never mind.”
“No.” I reach out without thinking, squeezing her hand.
She looks down at our joined hands and I quickly let go. What the hell am I doing?
“What’s the prank?” I ask, hoping she lets it slide. “We’re coming home from a date and…” I gesture for her to give me more.
“Just, um…” She visibly swallows, not meeting my eye. “Flirt a little. As if we’re going inside to… you know…”
A wave of heat washes over me, and I curb my overeager impulse to grab my keys and drive us over to her house this instant.
She huffs out a laugh, an edge of disbelief to it. “Jae came up with this whole script.”
“Yeah?” It’s all I can seem to get out at the moment.
“Something about how I’m giggling telling you to stop because the neighbors will see us, as if you’re getting handsy.
And then you say you can’t keep your hands off me.
And I…” She falters slightly as she finally looks at me.
I have no idea what she sees on my face, though I’m trying my best to stay neutral. “I say we have all night for that.”
I act as if I’m considering what she’s saying. “That could definitely work. Really fuck with his head.”
Her gaze travels over me. “You’d do it?”
I shrug a shoulder, praying it comes off as nonchalant. “Sure.”
“Oh.” She almost appears taken aback. “I didn’t think you’d actually agree.”
I nearly laugh. Why’d she ask me then?
She must read my mind because she says, “It’s crazy. Are you sure you want to be part of this?”
Am I sure I want any opportunity to spend more time with Rachel? Am I sure I want to flirt with her, even if it’s for pretend?
And am I sure I want to stick it to Kyle and make him think I’m sleeping with the best thing that ever happened to him before he screwed it all up?
Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure.
“I’m sure,” I tell her. “When do we start?”