But she purses her lips and presses them to the left, a sign that she’s thinking.
“Justin promised me he didn’t tell Cody where you are, but he said Cody’s coming to find you. He’s been going nuts lately. All out of his head about what happened,” Raquel says. “Anyway, I thought you should know. Be prepared in case he shows up or something.”
“I mean, I have no idea how he’d find me. It’s not like you can look me up and see where I live. I don’t have a house or anything,” Mikayla says.
I know she’s not trying to piss me off, but that statement, well, it pisses me the fuck off. I squeeze the steering wheel, my eyes forward.
“Um… not that it wouldn’t be awesome to see, but you should relax a bit. It looks like you’re about the break the wheel there. Cowboy,” Jack says, trying to be light-hearted. “She’s just scared,” he adds in a low voice, so Mikayla doesn’t hear.
I nod, but don’t say anything.
Mikayla finishes the call but continues to have a perplexed look on her face.
“Did you post something about coming here to visit?” Mikayla asks.
“Well, sort of. I said I was coming to see my sister, gonna meet the winningest bronc rider in Tex… oh fuck,” Jack says, his face falling. “But I blocked Cody and Justin,” Jack says.
“Have you accepted any friend requests?” Mikayla asks, her voice biting.
“You’re a dumbass,” I say to Jack because I can’t help myself. I point my finger at him and frown.
“You really are!” Mikayla says. “Happy fucking Thanksgiving.”
On that note, we pull up to the house. We have fewer than twenty minutes to get ready for dinner. We start at around three. The Texas game already started, but we pretty much have football on for most of the evening.
Mikayla runs out of the car and unlocks the door, likely in a hurry to get ready. I walk Jack to the studio and unlock the door.
“I had it cleaned when I thought Mick was gonna move in here,” I explain.
“Did you remodel it for her too?” Jack asks.
I won’t lie, I may have had them repaint the walls and install new appliances. Mikayla likes to cook, and I wanted her to have the best. The new granite slab was hardly a hardship, and the floors were already hardwood.
“I wanted her to feel comfortable,” I explain.
“This is bigger than my apartment in Atlanta,” he says. “I’m guessing that’s also new?” Jack asks, pointing at the king-size Murphy bed.
“She likes to dance while she cooks,” I argue. Having the bed pull up was just logical.
“Have you told her yet?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Told her what?” I ask, having no clue what the fuck he’s talking about.
“That you’re in love with her?” he asks. “Should we head back to the house?” He walks to the door as if he hadn’t just asked what he asked. “You should tell her,” he says when I don’t respond.
When we get to the house, I smile. Mikayla is already dressed, holding a pie in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. I jog up to her and grab the pie.
“When did you buy this?” I ask in surprise as we begin to walk toward the main house.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just insult me by asking me that,” Mikayla says. She stops short and looks at me like I grew a second head.
“You made this?” I ask. I don’t recall smelling anything baking.
Mikayla just shakes her head at me and walks on, her hips swaying as she moves. My eyes are fixed on her ass and legs, the skirt just tight enough to show me the curve of her ass.
I open the door, and we all enter the house like I own the place.
“Mikayla!” my mother cries out as if I’m not here. “I’m so glad you’re here!” she says, pulling my girlfriend in for a hug.
