“Why?”
“Because it’s a must for our girls’ night. The instructions online made it look easy.”
“Never trust the internet, Floozy. That was your first mistake.”
“Oh, so your mom isn’t spiraling from another big movie rejection?” I quip before pulling out the last clean pot from the cupboard.
“Nah. That one’s probably true.”
“You still haven’t talked to her?” I ask as I scoop some butter, sugar, and corn syrup into the pot before setting it on the stove. Then I crank up the heat to medium-high––just like the stupid video told me to––and start stirring.
“Nope. And I don’t plan to.” An innocent River peeks over my shoulder like a seasoned chef inspecting my third attempt at making the damn candy as if he has all the time in the world when a little bird told me the opposite.
My stirring stops and I look up at him as my frustration gets the best of me.
“Am I distracting you?” he rumbles, that same cocky smirk painted across his lips.
Stupid. Sexy. Arrogant asshole.
My head snaps back to the stove.
“Nope. So…” I give the mixture another half-assed stir and take a deep breath. “Where are you going tonight?”
“Nowhere.”
“Then why are you dressed like that?” I wave my hand toward him as if he’s an annoying fly that won’t leave me alone.
He looks down at his dark, fitted T-shirt and worn jeans that hang low on his hips. “Dressed like what?”
Annoyed, I drop the spoon in the pot and twist around to face him. “You’re wearing a shirt, which in River terms means you’re going out.”
Throwing his head back, he laughs. Hard. “Oh, so because I’m wearing clothes, that means I have plans?”
“You tell me.”
“Is somebody jealous?”
“What? No––”
A quiet knock at the front door cuts me off. I wipe my hands on the yellow hand towel hanging next to the sink, then take a step toward the entryway. “Dove’s here.”
His warm hand envelops my bicep and holds me in place. “Milo’s home. He’ll get it.”
My gaze drops down to his steely grip before I find the courage to look back up at him.
How can one man knock me on my ass so freaking quickly?
With a simple touch, a simple look, a simple smirk, I’m a goner.
“You never answered me yesterday,” he murmurs.
“About what?”
“About whether or not you’ll let me take you on a date.”
I lick my lips. He’s close. Too close. We shouldn’t be standing like this. Not when my brother’s still home. But the idea of putting some much-needed distance between us is crippling.
I peek back up at him. “Riv…”
“Let me take you out.”
“I don’t––”
“Crap,” a familiar soft voice mutters from the hall. “Sorry. I’ll just––”
Our heads snap toward the culprit in unison before I wiggle out of River’s grasp as if he has the plague.
Shit.
“Hey, Dove,” I squeak. My face feels like it’s on fire.
“Hi.” She waves awkwardly, pretending she didn’t just catch us in a precarious position before her button nose scrunches in distaste. “What’s that smell?”
I sniff.
“Dammit, River!” Rushing to the stove, I grab the hot pad and throttle the pot’s handle until my knuckles turn white.
Stupid TikTok and their stupid thirty-second recipes.
“I burnt the caramel again,” I announce with more venom than a damn rattlesnake.
“Caramel?” Striding over to the stove, Dove assesses the black sludge at the bottom of the pot. “That’s supposed to be caramel?”
“Well, it was,” I defend.
“And how ‘bout those over there?” She points to the two other pots in the sink.
River chuckles under his breath. “Told ya, Floozy. Have fun on your girls’ night.”
“And where are you going?” I ask––again––trying to keep my tone light and airy. But it comes out with an edge that screams jealousy no matter how much I try to hide it.
Because I am jealous.
Where is he going? And why won’t he tell me?
“I already told you,” River answers me. “Out.”
“You told Milo you have a date.” The truth slips out of me before I have a chance to stop it. I hate how vulnerable I sound, but I can’t help it. The idea of River going out with someone who isn’t me… It guts me.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Dove interrupts, desperate to give us an ounce of privacy. Clearly, I’m doing a bang-up job of hiding my feelings for my roommate. Lovely. At least Milo isn’t here to witness it.
I clear my throat. “The one on this floor is clogged, and they’re all waiting for someone else to fix it like a bunch of pansies. But if you go to the top of the stairs and turn left, it’ll be the first door on your right.”
“Left and then a right. Got it.”
“Yup.”
Her sock-clad feet turn her into a silent ninja as she rushes out of sight, leaving me alone with a guy I’m not too happy with.
“Did she take off her shoes?” River asks, his gaze still glued to the gorgeous waitress from the bar who happens to be turning into one of my good friends.
My stupid jealousy flares all over again as I give him my back and mutter, “Apparently.”
“That’s…nice of her?” he offers.
“I guess.”
Shoving the third pot of charred sugar into the sink, I turn the water on full blast and watch the clear liquid swirl into a dark, opaque sludge. Just like my jealousy.
“Hey,” River murmurs, crowding me against the sink. The warmth from his chest heats my back, though I refuse to lean into him. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll crumble.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper.
“I want you to say yes and go on a date with me.”
“Why would I do that? It seems you already have one.”
His hands skim along my hips, but he doesn’t touch me. And it’s his lack of touch that really does me in. Like I’m some forbidden treasure when he’s the one who always feels just out of reach.
He bows his head forward. “I’m sorry, Reese.”
“For going on a date tonight?” I choke out.
“No. For making you even question whether or not I’d betray you like that.”
I dig my teeth into my lower lip, my eyes glazing with unshed tears as the dirty water spills over the pot’s edge.
“I lied to Milo,” he reveals. “The only girl I want to go out with tonight has plans with a coworker. If she didn’t, I’d be bending her over backward to convince her to give me a chance.”
“I believe the correct term is bending over backward. Not bending her over backward,” I correct him, my voice nothing but a whisper. The vice around my chest slowly eases with each passing second as I register his statement.
He doesn’t have a date tonight.
He still wants me.
He still wants us.