Chapter Two #2
The kitchen was hot, random alarms beeping unbothered in the background, the pungent scent of fresh garlic, roasted tomatoes, and homemade pizza dough stronger here than anywhere else this side of Miami.
His cooks were working to the tunes of local radio, talking to each other, but not in a hurry.
Things had slowed down in the last few minutes, and there was a relaxed, ready-to-go-have-a-smoke-break attitude permeating his normally hot and busy kitchen.
“This is very bad,” she said. “Very bad. We can’t let my mom and Mr. Martin hook up.”
“Oh, is she … you said she married your dad twice. Is she still married to him?”
“No, they’re currently divorced. Who knows for how long? But that isn’t the point. The point is, what if they get together, and then she doesn’t leave? I can’t live near my mother anymore. I refuse.”
“So, then she’ll stay here, and you’ll move back to Miami. Does that mean I don’t have to be your boyfriend?”
Ginny dug her fingernails in the side that she hadn’t previously wounded.
Shepherd winced and pulled away. “Joking—I was joking! I want to be your pretend boyfriend. My car is disgusting, I can’t wait for you to clean it. What do you suggest we do?”
“Let’s go out there and pull her to a different table, ice him out. We’ll order something for the three of us to split. And we’ll opposite-wingman Martin.”
“Opposite-wingman?” Shepherd tried his hardest not to smile, but the edges of his mouth twitched. “What does that mean?”
“You know, we lie about him. But negatively. Like, he’s got a teeny tiny penis or bank account. Anyway, I’m sure she’s only flirting with him to get back at my dad.” She shook her head, stared off into the middle distance. “It’s a mess right now, Shepherd. A mess.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered.
She extended her fingernails like the claws they were, and he quickly danced out of her reach. “Hey, Max,” he called out. “Get a pepperoni goin’ for me, yeah? Ginny and I are gonna grab a bite to eat.”
“Oh, is that happening?” Max looked up at them from where he was slicing bell peppers. He was a clean-shaven young man, with blond hair, skinny glasses, and even skinnier jeans. “Finally, huh? That took longer than I thought. Hey, Chris!” he yelled to the cook washing dishes. “We lost the bet.”
“What?” Chris shut off the water. He wiped his hands off on a dingy towel and looked at Shepherd and Ginny.
He was in a lot of ways Max’s polar opposite.
Chris was a big, beefy-looking man. His bulging biceps were covered in tattoo sleeves.
There were piercings in his nose, both eyebrows, and chin.
“Really?” he gasped, his dark eyes wide.
“I knew you two were gonna get together! Didn’t I, Max? Just not so soon.”
“We all knew they were gonna get together,” Max said in a gruff, low voice. “Thought it would’ve happened weeks ago.”
“Excuse me?” Ginny put her fist on her hip. “You had a bet going? About Shepherd and me hooking up?”
Max pushed the peppers aside and grabbed a ball of dough. He started kneading it out into something vaguely pizza-shaped. “Duh. Anyone with eyes could see how into each other you were. Why wouldn’t we try to profit off that? Does Noah know? He’s gonna be so pissed; he was set for this weekend.”
Shepherd’s face was burning hot, from under his hairline, down his cheeks, and into his chest. “What the—what? What? What is this—what are you? Excuse me, I am your boss!”
Chris drew Ginny into a hug and said, “Yeah, and you’ve got a heart-on for our Ginny here.”
“A heart-on?” Ginny repeated at the same moment that Shepherd squawked out, “The disrespect!”
“He’s full-on heart-eyes emoji when he looks at you,” Chris said, and dropped a kiss on her red hair. “And who wouldn’t be? You’re a goddess and you deserve the world. Let me make your pizza. Pepperoni, you said?”
“Heart-eyes emoji?” Shepherd repeated, fully aware of how high-pitched his voice had become, and totally unable to do anything about it.
“Now, you listen here, I will not be slandered in such a way. I have played things cool and collected. I am cool and collected! And when, and when, and when …” He blew a raspberry, slapped his own face like he was home alone and trying aftershave for the first time.
“When are the two of you going to get together, huh?”
Max tossed the dough in the air. “Like, a month ago, Shepherd.”
“Yeah,” Ginny said, “I knew that. Chris told me. Didn’t you know that, Shepherd?”
He let his hands fall to his sides. Useless things. It still felt like he had too many of them. “Can we just go play opposite-wingman, now?”
“Oh, what’s that?” Chris asked. “Some sort of sex thing?”
“It is not a sex thing!” Shepherd’s entire head was so hot he could almost feel the steam coming out of his ears. “Just bring the pizza to table four as soon as possible. Come on, Ginny.”
His pointless, useless hands reached out and grabbed Ginny by one of hers, removing her from Chris’s hold.
She laced her fingers through his and jogged to catch up as he stomped out of his kitchen.
His own kitchen! A bet? About him and Ginny?
Because heart-eyes? What the hell did the two of those idiots know about it?
Ginny was pretty, sure, and yes, he’d sleep with her if she asked.
But that was it. He didn’t care about her in that way.
He wasn’t in love with her. He just liked looking at her.
And talking to her. And listening to her sing.
And sometimes texting her at night when he couldn’t sleep.
But those were not feelings; they were just things that happened.
“Hey,” Ginny said, pulling on his hand. The kitchen doors swung closed behind them. Noah was leaning on the bar, talking to Mr. Martin and Ginny’s mom. That wasn’t good. He could ruin the entire plan with one wrong sentence. One misplaced moment of honesty.
“Hey,” Ginny said again.
Shepherd looked at her begrudgingly, willing his eyes to not go full heart-on, or whatever the hell Chris had called it. “We gotta warn Noah,” he said, “before the whole charade goes up in smoke.”
“I know,” she whispered. Her breath was soft on his face, and it smelled like cinnamon gum and the cheap coffee they served for more than it was worth.
Her hand was still in his, her fingers laced through his own.
So much warmer than they had been just a half-hour ago outside, when she’d hatched this plan. When she’d called him Obi-Wan.
How would she look in the Princess Leia buns? Fantastic, he’d bet.
Shepherd closed his eyes. The hearts were flying out of them, he could tell. Damn it all.
Ginny kissed his cheek. Soft and chaste. It was over before it even began, but he felt it. From his cheek to his chest and his stomach, all the way down to the bottom of his feet. “Thank you, Shepherd.”
Shepherd cleared his throat and opened his eyes and stared at her ear for fear of completely losing the last shred of calm and collectedness he was holding on to.
“Yeah. Yeah. It’s nothing.” He cleared his throat again, like the noise could do something about the shaking, jittering feeling coursing through his veins. “Come on. Let’s extricate the target and get to work on your plan. I’ll text Noah and bring him in on things.”