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“We’ve got about thirty seconds to get to the curtain,” he mutters, releasing me to adjust himself. I do the same. Drew’s staring a hole through the door when he speaks a beat later.
“You realize you just committed us to going to my parents’ anniversary party together.”
That gets my attention enough I can finally look away from his hands where they’re still adjusting his fly.
“Seriously?”
“Alan very likely called to tell my family about you before he even got back to his car,” says Drew, his expression blank once again but for the faint sneer he aims my way. “They’ll be expecting to meet this boyfriend I neglected to tell them about, especially since you had Bailey as a witness.”
“What’s she got to do with it?” I ask. Though I’m feeling a twinge at just what Bailey must be thinking after that little scene with her ex-fiancé. Considering I was kissing her just last night... in my experience most women wouldn’t take too kindly to seeing a guy kiss someone else inside of twenty-four hours.
“We’ll deal with this later,” says Drew, shaking his head and opening the door. He stalks out the door.
“Great,” I call out to his back. “Can’t wait.”
13
Bailey
The bathroom mirror is obscured by steam, but that doesn’t stop me from staring at it.
Round two was deceptively simple—just completing the dish in the required amount of time, no surprise ingredient or anything. It was tight, but I managed. The only people who got eliminated yesterday were the ones who didn’t actually finish. The rest of us got scores, but we won’t find out what they are until the finalists are announced on Sunday.
Round three today kicked my ass. Suffice it to say, I’m not holding my breath about being a finalist.
Which is honestly fine with me. I didn’t sign up for this to win the cooking show gig or a contract with Sizzle or sign a book deal, or any of the other sparkly things I’ve heard other competitors talk about the last few days. I’m just glad to get to play for once, though I can already tell reality is going to come crashing down hard come Monday.
No, the competition isn’t what’s got me zoned out. If anything, I’ve still got some nervous energy to burn, though I turned down Evie’s offer to go out and party it up with some of the other competitors tonight.
Drew’s avoiding me, just like I’ve been avoiding him all week. And it’s bullshit. If anybody’s got some explaining to do, it’s him. Alan showing up unannounced was just icing on the clusterfuck cake yesterday.
And then there’s Cooper. Cooper who took me out, who kissed my brains out in the back of a bar, who got me off harder than I’ve ever managed to do on my own. Cooper who kissed Drew.
That’s the hold up right there. Cooper kissed Drew. My brain’s had that memory playing on loop nonstop since yesterday morning, like I don’t even know where to start processing it.
I know why he did it, of course. Coop was just helping me out, and maybe by extension, Drew. Coop knew my ex would freak out if it came out that Drew and I were dating. Even though we’re not.
It’s confusing. I’m confused. That’s all it is.
I am not massively turned inside out by the thought of them kissing. And touching. And doing other things. That would be inappropriate. And wrong, probably. If anything, I should probably be pissed at Cooper. Right?
Enough. It’s been a week since Drew kissed me, and if you don’t count that little interlude where Alan called me over, we haven’t spoken since that night either. Time to put on my big girl pants and fix this.
Obviously Drew and I have been through too much together to let this come between us. He’s not my only friend, but he’s sure as hell the one I rely on most. I can’t lose him. Who else is going to put up with my abominable taste in men? Not to mention my haircuts. I’ve had people unfriend me on Facebook for less.
He’s the most stable part of my universe. He’s too important to let some little physical attraction mess things up. I made it go away the first time he rejected me. By God, I’ll manage it again. Somehow.
Resolved, I pull together the first outfit I get my hands on. A quick stop at the liquor store for a bottle of Drew’s favorite whiskey and I’m standing on his doorstep less than thirty minutes later.
The wind is brisk. In fact, it’s fucking freezing out here. And I don’t even know if he’s home. Hell, Saturday night, he could be out with his other friends for all I know. Or on a date. Surely—
The door flies open.
“Are you insane? It’s fucking freezing out here, Bailey.” Drew pulls me inside. “Your hair’s wet for God’s sake. What’s the matter with you?”
I try to answer, but my teeth are chattering too hard. Drew shuts the door behind me, pulling the bag out of my hand and setting it on the tiny table beside the door.
“Forgot my hat,” I manage to say through chattering teeth.
