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“Hopefully, this was a little more fun.” I said.
“Definitely.” She looked up at me, and I tried not to let myself be so affected by her presence. I’m sure she had guysfalling all over her on a daily basis. Her ability to inject warmth and sincerity into our interactions probably came from countless instances of practice. This wasn’t—I wasn’t—special.
Yet, despite my attempts to rationalize whatever was going on between us, our eyes locked for a second too long resulting in a twisting sensation deep in my gut. Even through the tequila haze, an inkling emerged—returning to a purely professional dynamic was going to be more than challenging.
I should say goodnight right now and let her go. But as we continued strolling through the brisk evening, those words did not emerge.
“Ugh, why is everything closed so early?” Charlie complained as we passed another restaurant with all the lights out.
“I guess cooking at home it is,” I said, a hint of disappointment in my tone despite my mind knowing space would be beneficial.
“Not for me,” she muttered. “I finished my last pack of ramen yesterday.”
I chuckled as I took in her exasperated demeanor. “I take it you don’t cook much.”
“Who has the time?” She sighed, glancing up at me. “Let me guess,” she continued. “You somehow find the time to cook even with running a multi-million-dollar company.”
“It’s an essential skill to know. I’m not saying I always have time, but cooking and eating a good meal is important.”
She rolled her eyes and waved my comment away in a joking manner. “Alright, Mr. Perfect. I don’t need a lecture from you.” She stopped in her tracks, spinning to face me. Her abrupt motion caught me off guard. “What I do need is for you to put your money where your mouth is. How about you show me these alleged cooking skills.”
“Alleged,” I breathed, chuckling. I should say no but… “Okay.”
Her eyes perked up. “Really? Oh my god, thank you. I will worship the ground you walk on if you feed me anything that’s better than plain crackers—because that is what I’d be going home to right now.”
“Oliver’s house is up here on the left.” I pointed, leading the way.
I knew this was an error in judgment. A “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow,” was on the tip of my tongue. But as she practically skipped next to me, I felt no regret.
Once Oliver’s house loomed in front of us, I pointed it out. “That’s the one,” I said.
“Thank god,” she groaned with an air of drama. “I nearly starved to death on that walk.”
Biting back the smile that threatened to break loose, I moved up the short walkway and pulled my key out. Once the door opened and I flipped on the light, the ethereal trance of the evening instantly shattered. Reality came crashing down as I took in the living room I had become familiar with the past two weeks.
What had I been thinking bringing Charlie here? I paused in the doorway in a slight moment of panic. She paid me no mind and breezed past me with ease, dropping her coat on the floor and leaving her boots in a pile by the door.
“This place is nice.” She walked around the room, taking in all of Oliver’s sporadic outdoor décor. She turned to me. “Definitely not you though.”
I let out the breath I had been holding and shook myself from my statue-like trance before moving to the kitchen.
“You think?” I opened the fridge before selecting all the essentials for a grilled cheese.
“Obviously,” she said, pointing to the snowboards Oliver had mounted to the wall.
“You don’t know me that well,” I pointed out.
She snorted before tipping her head back and laughing. “Please, maybe I don’t know you that well, but I could have pegged this as ‘not you’ after our first meeting.”
I couldn’t force back the smile as I put two pieces of bread into a pan with sizzling butter. Whatever it was about this girl, I couldn’t seem to stop smiling around her—unfortunately, an anomaly for me. Maybe Ben was right. I did need to get out more if a few smiles and flirtatious glances had my brain short-circuiting this way.
“It’s funny how different you two are,” she said, sitting down on the barstool and observing me as I added cheese to the slices.
My brow furrowed, searching for any double meaning in her words. Funny how Oliver was so easygoing and full of life while I was a cold shell of a person?
“Oliver has always been the more appealing brother.” I didn’t meet her eyes although I could feel them on me.
“I didn’t say that,” she said. Her earnest voice forced me to steal a glance. She had her chin perched in her hand, elbows on the table, looking at me like I was a riddle she was on the cusp of solving.
