Chapter 20
TWENTY
DREW
Ally’s lips are hot and sweet, and she tastes like iced tea and summer.
Her waist is wonderfully soft under my hands, softer than I expected, since the rest of her is so toned.
All that softness feels like a dirty secret.
My dirty, beautiful, sexy secret. I imagine kissing her belly, sticking my tongue in her belly button and licking my way down.
But all of a sudden, she stiffens in my arms and pulls back.
Fuck. I let myself get carried away.
I take my hands off her waist and step back, preparing to apologize, but Ally’s looking past me. I follow her gaze and realize all my friends are staring.
“Don’t let us stop you,” Austin says mischievously.
“You’re welcome to go inside if you want,” Luke says slyly.
I bite back a caustic retort. If Luke had any tact, he’d have taken everyone else inside and left Ally and me alone in the backyard. I don’t know why she decided to kiss me, but I sure wasn’t questioning it.
Then my eyes move to Ethan, and I know exactly why Ally did it. He looks a hell of a lot more comfortable now, even a little amused.
The kiss was an act of kindness. Ally noticed how miserable Ethan looked, and she decided to create a distraction.
It wasn’t particularly kind to me, though. I thought she kissed me just because she wanted to, and the truth stings a bit. And now I know how she tastes, and I’ll never get the memory out of my head.
“Hey, Ethan,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Good to see you. This is my girlfriend, Ally.”
“I guessed that,” he says with a grin. He shifts his massive gift box to one side and steps forward to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Ethan turns to Melissa next. “I got you guys a housewarming gift,” he says, holding out the gift box. “I know you’ve been here a while, but Luke just moved in, so I thought . . .”
“Thanks,” Melissa says, moving a platter of watermelon so she can set the box on the table. “Can we open it now?”
“Of course.”
Melissa carefully takes off the ribbon and removes the wrapping paper. “A KitchenAid stand mixer!” she exclaims, clearly delighted. “Ethan, it’s too much—but I’ve always wanted one, so thank you.” She reaches over to give him a hug.
“My mom suggested it,” Ethan says, looking a little embarrassed. “She said it changed her life. I think she was exaggerating, but—”
“Oh, I doubt it,” Ally says. “My mom has one too, and it’s great. I’m planning to buy one as soon as I can afford it.”
By now, Melissa’s opened the box, and she and Sophie are inspecting the pieces.
“There’s a gift receipt taped to the box,” Ethan explains. “You can return it for credit, or if you want a different color—”
“Oh, I love the color,” Melissa enthuses. “Look, Luke, it’s the empire red one.”
“Very nice,” Luke says.
“Close your mouth, Sophie,” Austin teases, as Sophie examines some sort of whisk attachment. “I doubt Melissa wants you drooling on it.”
“I don’t think you understand, Austin,” Melissa says. “This is the mixer.”
Austin meets my eye, and I can tell he doesn’t get it either.
“I didn’t know you wanted a mixer,” Luke says. It’s clear he wishes his girlfriend didn’t like Ethan’s gift quite so much. “I’m going to start the barbecue.”
Luke grills burgers and chicken, and the afternoon passes in an easy blur. Ethan seems to relax, and we avoid the subject of his recent absence from work.
I don’t get a chance to talk to Ally alone until we’re on our way home.
“Look, Drew,” she says nervously, as soon as we’re back in the car. “I should explain about the kiss. It was just—”
“I understood,” I say quickly. “It was a nice thing to do.”
“You didn’t mind?”
“No, it was fine.” So fine that I don’t want to think about it anymore. “Do you really want one of those KitchenAid mixers?”
“Sure,” Ally says. “But only when I have a big enough kitchen, because they take up a lot of counter space.”
“Uh huh. What color?”
“Pistachio green, probably.”
“Hmm.”
I feel Ally’s eyes on my face. “Drew!” she exclaims. “You can’t—you can’t buy me a KitchenAid mixer!”
“Why not?”
“They cost, like, four hundred bucks. Maybe more, depending on the model.”
“Uh huh,” I say, trying not to show my surprise. I’d have guessed about half that much. It’s over the top for a housewarming gift, but I guess Ethan’s trying to apologize to Luke for everything that happened last fall.
“It’s probably a good investment,” I muse.
It’s not like I can’t afford it. After my mother died, my dad gave my sister and me each a quarter of the life insurance payout. So I graduated med school without debt, and I make a very good income now. It’s way more than I need, since I don’t have expensive hobbies and I’m not into buying stuff.
But now I really want to buy this mixer.
“Drew, you can’t buy me a four hundred dollar mixer!” Ally sputters. “It’s not like we’re actually in a relationship. And even if we were, it would be way too soon for something that expensive.”
I don’t reply right away, because I’m feeling too frustrated. I get that I can’t take her to bed, or even kiss her properly, but I should be able to buy her a mixer.
“And when I move out of your place, I won’t have the space for it,” Ally says.
Right. She’ll be moving out in August. “Maybe I want a mixer for myself. Ethan’s mother said it changed her life.”
Ally rolls her eyes. “Are you planning to take up cooking?”
“I might.”
“It’s a really nice idea, but it’s way too much.”
“Okay, don’t worry,” I say. “I get it. No mixer.”
That night, my dreams are vivid and feverish. The kiss is imprinted on my brain, and I relive it again and again. I can still taste the sweetness of Ally’s lips, smell her peach shampoo, feel the softness of her waist in my hands.
I wake up Sunday morning aching and frustrated. I take a cold shower, and after a few minutes I turn the temperature up as hot as I can stand.
But neither the cold nor the heat seems to help.
I promised her I didn’t want anything physical.
I resolve to avoid Ally today. I’ll leave for the hospital before she’s awake, and catch up on my horrific backlog of admin work.
But when I walk into the kitchen, Ally’s standing at the counter, cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Hey, Drew.” She’s wearing my green T-shirt over a pair of slouchy pink pajama shorts, and her blond hair is pulled back into a messy bun. “How do you feel about French toast?”
And just like that, my good intentions fly out the window. “I feel pretty good about it.” After all, I have to eat.
“I hoped you’d say that.” Ally beats the eggs with a fork, then pours in some milk. “I woke up craving it.” She shakes some cinnamon into her bowl, then attacks it with the fork again. “And I wondered if you wanted to play tennis today?”
If I’m going to eat breakfast with her, I might as well play tennis, too.
“Yeah, I could do tennis.”
The weather’s beautiful, so we walk to the courts after breakfast. This time, we play two sets, and Ally wins both fairly easily. On the way home, we stop at a coffee shop for drinks.
“You know, Drew,” Ally says as we’re standing in line. “I’m a bit worried about your cervical spine. I think that bag is too heavy for you.”
“Are you offering to carry it, Ally?” I tease. The duffel bag holds our tennis rackets and balls, and it’s not actually very heavy. “That’s very thoughtful.” I slip the strap off my shoulder and over hers.
She clearly wasn’t expecting that, and she bursts out laughing.
“Drew?” The voice from behind is very familiar, and I turn around and see my sister.
“Oh, hey, Breanna,” I say, trying to sound casual. “This is Ally. Ally, my sister Breanna.”
“We’ve just been playing tennis,” Ally says quickly.
“I see,” Breanna says, but she’s staring at Ally with undisguised curiosity. Which isn’t surprising, because we must have looked like we were flirting.
“I was reminding Ally that the winner has to carry the rackets,” I say.
“Right,” Breanna says, glancing at the bag on Ally’s shoulder. No doubt realizing that we’ve got all our gear in one bag, like a couple.
Fuck this. I know we said we wouldn’t involve our families in this deception, but this is silly.
“Actually, Breanna, Ally and I are dating,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Is that right?” Breanna asks with a grin. “I’d never have guessed.”
“It’s pretty new,” Ally says, blushing a little.
We reach the front of the line, and Breanna and Ally order coffee. I ask for a bottle of orange juice.
“Still off coffee, huh?” Breanna asks, as the barista sets our drinks on the bar.
“Just craving orange juice,” I reply. Ally gives me a curious look, so I keep talking. “What are your plans for the rest of the day, Breanna?”
“I’m on my way to pick Charlotte up from a sleepover,” she says. “No plans for the afternoon, though. Why, are you two looking for company?”
“No,” I reply bluntly.
“Didn’t think so,” Breanna says with a laugh. “But we should have dinner together sometime.” She smiles at Ally. “I should get going, but it was really nice to meet you, Ally. Be good to Drew, he’s not as tough as he looks.”
“Thanks for that, Breanna,” I say dryly, as my sister walks out.
Ally takes a sip of her coffee. “Do you want to sit for a bit, or keep walking back?”
“I’m good to keep walking,” I say, reaching for the tennis bag. “I’ll carry that.”
“No, I got it,” she says playfully. “I heard you’re not as tough as you look.”
“Right,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“You’re pretty close with your sister, huh?” Ally asks as we walk back to the condo.
“Close enough, yeah.” Close enough that my phone’s been buzzing in my pocket ever since Breanna left the coffee shop. I haven’t checked the messages, but I can imagine what they say.
Why didn’t you tell me about her?
I’m so happy for you!!
How long has this been going on?
We should have dinner together!
I love Breanna, but she can be a lot.
“Maybe we should tell her the truth,” Ally says thoughtfully. “About the relationship, I mean.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Ally’s brow furrows as she turns to me. “But you could trust her not to tell anyone, right? I don’t know, Drew, lying to your sister just feels wrong.”
I know what Ally means, and she has a good point. But I simply can’t imagine explaining my relationship with Ally to Breanna. Or to anyone else, really. Hell, I can’t even explain it to myself.
It may not be conventional, but it sure as hell isn’t fake.
“I don’t think it’s wrong, Ally,” I tell her. “And we haven’t exactly lied to Breanna. I mean, we are in a relationship, just not the kind she thinks. The details aren’t anyone’s business but ours.”
“I guess,” Ally says, but her expression tells me she isn’t convinced.
“Will you please let me carry the tennis bag now?” I ask as we approach my building. I move a little closer to her and lower my voice. “I’m sure the elderly neighbors have old fashioned ideas about gender roles. They’ll think I’m a schmuck if I let you carry that through the lobby.”
“Feeling a little insecure, Dr. Malone?” Ally teases, but she slips the bag off her shoulder and over mine. “Happy now?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I finish my orange juice as we ride the elevator, and I catch Ally’s eyes on the empty bottle.
“Breanna asked if you were still off coffee,” she says. “But I thought you said you’d never liked it?”
Shit. I thought she’d forgotten about that.
“Um, yeah,” I say as we walk down the hall to my unit. “I used to like it, but I don’t anymore.”
I unlock the door to the condo, follow her inside, and close the door.
“Huh.” Ally looks skeptical. “You just stopped liking coffee?”
“Actually, I have a tremor.”