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He’s laughing at me.
“Well, then I’ll eat.” Still not looking toward me, he moves to the cupboard that houses glasses, and fills them at the sink—two, even though I said I didn’t want anything. His knowledge of the kitchen doesn’t surprise me. Even this morning, it was as simple as pulling out napkins from the pantry.
My first day here, I opened every drawer and cupboard door, before finding the bag of napkins in the pantry.
But Cade, he looks like he lives here.
“How well do you know Charleigh?” I find myself asking, immediately wishing I hadn’t. The goal is to get Cade out. Not keep him around.
“We grew up together,” he answers, walking back toward the counter, both water glasses in hand. I’m busy trying to keep my eyes off of his, but I track his moves right up until he’s standing nearly toe-to-toe with me.
“Sure you don’t want some?”
I swallow and look around, slightly uncomfortable.
“I have plenty to share.”
Sighing, I give in. Not just to his words, but to my desire to look at him. “Maybe a piece.” This morning I avoided his eyes.
I should have avoided them now, too.
They’re brown.
But not dark brown.
And not exactly light brown, either.
From far away, they’re probably nothing spectacular but from here, where he stands barely a foot from me, I see that they’re so much more than brown. There are gold specks. Green specks.
They’re…different.
I pull my eyes down again.
“Good choice,” he answers, stepping around me to take a seat at the counter.
The same stool he occupied this morning.
I do the same, and he moves the pizza box so it spreads out between us. Apparently, we’re not doing this with plates.
Or manners, I think, as I watch him reach for a wing from the other box, and places it near the pizza.
He has the box turned so the entire pie is in front of him, and for me to get a slice, I have to reach into his bubble.
If he wants to play indifferent, I guess I will too.
I grab a slice and decide to hell with it, and eat it like I don’t have a single care in the world, because really?
I don’t.
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my secret is going to make it out into the world.
And if he wants to play house right now and pretend that all is well—
“How do you know her? Charleigh.” Cade asks, interrupting my monologue.
I lift the cheesy, meaty, goodness to my mouth and take a bite, buying myself time. Cade devours one wing, then another, all while watching me.
I’m pretty sure I have sauce on my chin, but I can’t bring myself to feel self-conscious about it.
