I briefly consider Anna’s comments about him usually being a tyrant in the kitchen, but surely that wouldn’t make anyone want to kill him. I know for a fact he’s not in charge of hiring or firing, so that takes the stakes of any fights down a notch. And even grumpy, I can’t picture him being that bad. But I make a mental note to talk to Anna about it on our rescheduled shopping trip this coming Saturday. Assuming everything hasn’t blown up in my face before then.
On Thursday, I sit at my desk in the afternoon, shifting nervously as quitting time approaches. I’m supposed to meet Drew straight after work. I still have nothing that would help me solve the mystery of my vision, nor have I decided whether to say anything to Drew yet. I’m left with one option: wing it. And pretty much nothing could make me more nervous. I’m not exactly a “wing it” type of person.
As I walk the half dozen or so blocks between work and the Thai place where we’re meeting, I flip-flop incessantly: tell him, don’t tell him. When I catch sight of Drew standing outside the restaurant, though, it all melts away when I realize how much I’ve missed him, and that I just needed to see him to calm myself.
My brain shuts the hell up, finally, as he grins and opens his arms to me. With more force than I meant to, I wrap myself around him, snuggling into his warmth.
“Oof,” he jokes. “I missed you too.” He kisses the top of my head, but it’s not enough.
I tilt my head back to look up into his eyes, unable to speak. I go on my toes to take a real kiss, but I pull back quickly, desperately avoiding Seeing the same disturbing vision again, though he’s usually so in the moment that I don’t get anything off of him at all. Still, better safe than sorry.
He goes to stroke his thumb over my cheek, but I pull his arm down, careful to only touch him over his sleeve, and smile.
“Can we get something to go and head back to your place?” I ask.
Drew’s hand finds my shoulder, his thumb rubbing me gently. “Of course. Hard day?”
“Something like that,” I agree, choking back all of the emotions I’ve been feeling.
He follows me in, and we make small talk about our workweeks as we wait for our food. Well, he does most of the talking, really. And while he talks animatedly, I decide then that I won’t rush telling him. I’m too worked up over this. I need to calm down, and then maybe I can find a natural way to talk to him about who might hate him so much that they’d want to … no, I can’t say “kill him” out loud.
I push it out of my head. Later. I’ll worry about it all later. We still have weeks. For now, I just want to enjoy being with him.
We walk hand in hand back to his place, and I mostly listen to him chatter the whole way. He’s telling me about all the crap he’s had to deal with, but he has this goofy smile on his face the whole time.
As he unlocks his door, I can’t help asking, “If your week has been so tough, why do you seem so happy?”
With a laugh, he pulls me inside and sets the bag with our food on the table by the door.
“Because I finally get to see you,” he says, turning around and pushing me up against the back of the door. “And now that we’re in private, I can show you how much I missed you.”
I swallow hard as his large frame presses into me, looking up into his eyes. I’m equal parts nervous and excited. He strokes a thumb over my cheek and heat sears through me. Not just from his touch, but the hints of a vision of what will happen later. Hopefully not too much later, as he hasn’t even kissed me yet and I’m ready. So when his lips meet mine, even though it’s a soft, gentle kiss, my whole body sighs into his. I slide my hands around his neck and surrender. This. This is what I needed.
“Geez, guys, get a room.”
Drew breaks off the kiss, turns his head, and frowns.
“Didn’t know you were home, dude,” Drew snaps.
I peer around him to see Nick chuckling as he heads into the kitchen.
“Home base out-and-ins until Thanksgiving weekend. Guess that means you didn’t bring anything for me?”
With a resigned sigh, Drew straightens up and releases me, grabbing the bag of food possessively.
“Sure didn’t,” he retorts, pulling me into the living room.
We settle onto the couch and Drew hands me my takeout container. We both begin to eat quietly. Me, because Drew’s grumpiness is a striking change. Him because … well, he must really not like Nick.
My eyes dart toward the kitchen, where I can see Nick loudly clanging around while he prepares something for himself. I lean into Drew to talk quietly near his ear.
“Why do you live with him? You obviously don’t like him,” I whisper.
Drew shrugs, shoveling more food into his mouth. After he’s chewed and swallowed, he sets his container down.
“He’s gone most of the time. And we signed a two-year lease, which we’re only halfway through,” he grumbles, leaning back into the cushions. “Besides, he’s not that bad. I was just expecting that we’d be alone.”
As if on cue, Nick pads into the living room and drops into the chair adjacent to the couch.
“So you’ll never guess who was on my flight in this morning,” he says around a mouthful of ramen.
I wrinkle my nose in disdain. Not a fan of seeing people’s food. In their mouth. While they chew it. I pick my food back up, trying to focus on eating instead, even though I’m decidedly less hungry after seeing the half-masticated mess in Nick’s mouth. Gross.
When Drew doesn’t take the bait, Nick plows on. “All right, I’ll tell you anyway,” he gushes. “It was Amber, dude. Looks like she’s back in town.”
Drew bolts upright. “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, thought you might be interested to know that,” Nick says with a smirk.
Drew runs his hands over his hair. “Shit. Fuck. Shit, fuck, shit,” he says under his breath.
“Uhhh, who is Amber?” I ask, totally clueless as to why Drew is losing it.
Nick grins widely and Drew glares at him.
“You haven’t told her,” Nick says slyly, indicating toward me with a dip of his head.
Drew shakes his head. “Didn’t see the point. She left.” He sighs deeply and turns to me. “Amber is someone I went out with a few times early last year. Then she kinda …”
“Went cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?” Nick offers with a snort before inhaling more noodles.
Drew shoots Nick another sharp look. “That’s one way to put it. Anyway,” he grumbles, turning back toward me, “it’s ancient history.”
“Sure, and it’s not like she’s going to bother you. That’s what restraining orders are for, right?” Nick jokes.
I feel all the blood drain from my face, and I look between Nick and Drew with my jaw hanging open.
“Thanks, fucker,” Drew snaps at Nick. “CJ, it’s really no big deal. It’s all in the past, I swear.”
“I’m — I —” I stutter. At a loss, I simply close my mouth and shake my head. Drew has an ex-girlfriend who was so crazy he had to file a restraining order to get rid of her. I’m shocked, a little worried, but mostly I’m wondering how bad it was. And if it could have anything to do with my vision of Drew’s future, or lack thereof, as it were.