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Chapter Six
Iwas going to conquer these stupid high heels if it killed me. Judging by the way I was bobbling across my living room floor, this might be a real possibility. How did any woman function in shoes over three inches? And yet I’d seen Haylee wear them and manage to carry a baby on her hip at the same time. Sasha wore designer stilettos on a daily basis and even traveled in them. Maybe my feet were deformed because surely it shouldn’t hurt this much. Right?
“Fuck. I mean cluck, cluck,” I muttered, trying not to tip over. Nothing said sexy like cursing with every painful step. Maybe we’d be going to Disney World next summer given the rate of my swearing. Glancing toward Tristan, I saw he was playing with his stuffed animals. Thank goodness he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Uh, knock knock. Your door was open.” Mark’s voice coming from the doorway took me off guard.
It was Monday night, and I’d wondered when I’d see him next.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Funnily enough, instead of feeling embarrassed about being caught looking silly wearing sweatpants with high heels, I merely shrugged. “Practicing.” I’d already experienced far more awkward situations with the man. “And the door is open because Haylee is coming down any minute for dinner.”
“Practicing for what, exactly?”
“For a party tomorrow night. Haylee had these beautiful shoes which are too small for her. Unfortunately, they’re about three inches too high for me. But you know, the shoes make the outfit and all.”
He seemed to contemplate my sweatpants and hoodie, with a smile tugging at his lips.
“Obviously not this outfit, but a dress. Anyhow, never mind. I think I’ve had enough torture for the evening.” I slipped off the first shoe and let out a moan of relief.
But after both shoes were off, making me my normal height, I had to swallow hard. Mark appeared so much bigger than me. There was something about a tall man with broad shoulders which had me envisioning this one carrying me caveman style into a bedroom. Forcing myself to snap out of my little fantasy, I walked to the kitchen and picked up my beer. “Do you want one? I also made fajitas, if you’re interested.”
My diet was going about as well as my math class at this point.
He shook his head. “No, thanks. Nothing for me. I only was concerned because I saw your front door open.”
I noticed then the Gatorade bottle in his hands and his tired eyes. “How are you feeling, by the way?” I flashed him a knowing smile. He’d no doubt caught what Tristan and I had battled.
He didn’t bother to deny he’d been sick. “Better. And don’t you dare start in with how sorry you are.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. In fact, I warned you several times. But here, I made this for you just in case.” I pulled the bowl out of the refrigerator. It was homemade chicken noodle soup.
He grinned, accepting the container along with a sleeve of crackers I put on top. “You didn’t have to make me soup.”
“I know. Just like you didn’t have to take care of Tristan while I was sick. Besides, this is merely the leftovers from the big batch I made for myself. It took a couple days for me to get back to normal food.”
“Okay. Fair enough. So, uh, what type of party is it?”
“A mixer for Haylee’s law school.”
“Josh will be happy to know she’s not going alone.”
“She said much the same. But I’m free Wednesday night. Do you think your stomach will be up for cashing in your pasta dinner chip by then?” I’d looked at recipes and felt confident I could manage homemade ravioli.
He arched a brow. “I get the pasta dinner and also chicken noodle soup?”
I smiled. “The soup isn’t much, so definitely.”
“Wednesday is good for dinner. Who’s this mixer for? Is it all law students or does it include friends of hers?”
I shrugged, finding it curious he was this interested. “I don’t really know. I’m assuming it’s her classmates, but I think it’s Haylee’s attempt to get me out and dressed up.”
“So why go?”
“I guess because it’s good to break out of my comfort zone. Plus, I can’t be a hermit the rest of my life.”
“No. But if you won’t enjoy meeting new people, I don’t see the point.”
