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Yeah. Not a great idea.
I press my back to the wall of Jesse’s cabin and run my hands through my hair.
Looking back, it would’ve been a great idea to not hire her. I can already imagine the constant torment of wondering if Zander is hitting on her–wondering if she’s inviting the attention. Or maybe it was exactly what I should’ve done. It shows us both that I’m not attached to her. I’m willing to toy with her for fun. It proves my feelings for her are completely finished. Right?
I push it all from my thoughts and head inside the cabin. Jesse and Jake are butchering some pasta by the smell of it when I come in. Jake looks pissed as he’s pointing to a sheet of paper–probably a recipe they found online–and Jesse looks like he’s insisting they got it right.
Liam, Maddox, and Carter are watching Inception for probably the hundredth time on the TV over the mantle. Meanwhile, Jesse’s wife, Andi, is at the kitchen counter with Caroline. Both women are apparently having fun watching their brothers struggle.
“Oh, thank God,” Andi says. “Nolan, would you please save these two from themselves?”
My impulse is to say “no,” but I’m aware that would only raise more questions I don’t feel like dealing with. Instead, I move to the stovetop, pick up a spoon, and taste the sauce Jesse is working on.
“Cooking wine,” I say. “And put a quarter stick of unsalted butter in right before you plate the pasta. Should be fine.”
“You’re going to trust Jesse with that?” Jake asks. He’s watching me, clearly suspicious.
I shrug. “Or you could order takeout. It’s easier.”
Jake jerks his head toward the balcony, indicating he wants me to come with him. I sigh. I can see where this is going, but I follow anyway.
We pass the guys on the couch and I ignore the curious stares of Andi and Caroline as we step out to the deck. Carter is already joining them to show some stupid video he has found on his phone. I think I hear the audio of screaming goats and an Imagine Dragons song as I step outside with Jake.
The rolling Vermont mountains greet us with a rush of crisp, fresh air.
“Well?” I ask. “Something you wanted to say to me?”
Jake crosses his arms, waiting.
I chuckle. “The silent treatment? Really?”
He takes a step closer. “This isn’t the inquisition or an interrogation. I’m your friend. You love cooking, but every time you get a chance to cook you turn it down. Help me make sense of it. That’s all I’m asking.”
I shrug and lean on the railing, eyes on the mountains. “I’m not sure,” I say.
“You changed two years ago. Right after you broke up with Mia. It’s not rocket science. The part I don’t understand is what the breakup had to do with cooking. Or why it fucked you up so much.”
“It didn’t,” I say. I’m holding back the full truth on a number of levels. The breakup did sting. But it wasn’t the only factor. “I’m opening a restaurant. Is that not enough proof that I still care about cooking?”
“You’re opening a restaurant and then leaving it here to run itself. What part of that is cooking?”
I clench my teeth in annoyance. “I helped make the menu.”
“Okay,” Jake says, unimpressed.
“What do you expect me to do, exactly?”
“I’m not expecting anything. I just want to know what’s going on with you. We’re your teammates, man. Your brothers. If you can’t talk to us, who are you going to talk to?”
I set my jaw. “When I know what’s bothering me, you’ll be the first to know. Alright?”
Jake laughs through his nose, disappointment practically dripping from him. “You mean when you’re ready to admit what’s bothering you?”
I glare and give him a slight shoulder check on my way back in. We both know we’re still good–but I also want him to know I’m sick of the questions. I’ve already figured out things are easier if I don’t ask questions of myself. Jake cornering me again and again makes that harder, and it pisses me off.
Jesse is tasting the sauce when I come back inside. He looks up at me. “Were you guys making out? You look flushed.”
I ignore him, heading for the front door.
