Lately, Andi felt like she was trying to reinvent herself, so it’d be appropriate to watch a horror movie with a Groundhog Day–inspired premise about a girl who needed to do some transforming to move forward. Plus, it was a good mix of scary and funny. She pulled the DVD out and set it on the coffee table. Only then did she realize her hands were trembling. She clenched her fists.
“Ugh.” She shook out her hands and rolled her shoulders. “Be cool.”
She closed her eyes and breathed through the wave of anxiety. Hill had said he understood she needed to take it slow, that he knew the word no. He’d shown her no reason not to trust that. If she didn’t feel comfortable doing anything more than holding hands on the couch tonight, he would respect that.
WWBAD—what would Book Andi do? That’s what she needed to be asking herself.
She opened her eyes, new resolve moving through her. Book Andi would definitely not stand here and let a panic attack ruin the night before it even started. She headed to her room to change into something cute. Hill would be giving his first cooking lesson tonight, so she needed something practical, but the old yoga pants she was wearing said working writer and not hot date. She searched through her stuff, settling on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversize dark-blue, off-the-shoulder top. Then she went into the bathroom and braided her hair in a face-framing Greek braid that Nessa, a beauty blogger at WorkAround, had shown her how to do. Finishing things off, she swiped on some lip gloss and freshened up her mascara. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she imagined Book Andi looking back at her. Let’s do this.
A few minutes later, Hill knocked on the door right on time. Bonus points for him. Andi was a fan of people who knew how to be on time. She did a quick scan of the living room to make sure she hadn’t left anything embarrassing out, and swiped a bra she’d draped over the back of the couch. She stuffed it behind the couch cushion.
When she made it to the door, she checked the peephole and then turned off the alarm before opening the door with a smile. “Hello, neighbor.”
Hill was loaded up with two bags of groceries from Whole Foods, but he smiled over the top of them. “You sound like Mr. Rogers.”
“Hashtag Life Goals. Here, give me one of those.” She reached out and took one of the paper sacks, and Hill followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. She peeked into the bag as she headed to the kitchen. “What delicious things did you bring me?”
“You’ll see,” he said, a few steps behind her. “I figured we’d start off basic.”
She grinned back at him. “The Basic Bitch cooking show. I’m here for it.”
He snorted. “The alternative to Julia Child.”
Andi set the bag on the counter, and Hill placed his next to hers. Before she could think too hard about it, she took his hand, stepped into his space, and kissed him quickly. “Hi.”
He squeezed her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, and then gave her a warm look that made her stomach flutter. “Hey, yourself.” He glanced down at her outfit. “You look…wow.”
She took a breath, her heart quickening, and stepped back. “Thanks. You get date wear tonight.”
“I’m honored.” He released her hand.
“You look great, too.” She took in his dark jeans and lavender T-shirt, the light color making all his dark features stand out. “Of course, we’re probably about to ruin both our outfits when you let me cook. Prepare for splatters.”
He smirked. “I’m prepared for anything.”
The words landed and sank in. She believed him. Whatever she wanted to happen tonight, he’d let her lead—whether that was nothing at all or kissing or more than that. “So,” she said, going to one of the bags and pulling a few items out. “What’s on the menu?”
“Steak tacos with homemade salsa and guacamole.”
“Ooh, yum,” she said, her mouth already watering at the thought. “What made you choose that? Besides the fact that tacos are the best.”
Hill started unloading the other bag and spreading the ingredients out on the counter. Tortillas, steak, jalapeños. “One of the first skills you need to learn if you’re going to cook for yourself is how to use a knife the right way. This meal will give you lots of chopping opportunities.”
She set a bundle of cilantro on the counter. “Or opportunities to end up at urgent care.”
He laughed and pulled a box out of the sack. “Let’s hope not. I brought you a new set of knives. The best way not to get hurt is to have good, sharp knives.”
“Ooh, thanks for that, but that logic doesn’t track, Hill,” she said, taking the box from him and eyeing it. “Sharp knives are less dangerous?”
“Dull knives make you push down with more force and fight the knife, which can make things slip out from beneath it. I learned that the hard way when I first started cooking at the fire station. They had a crappy set of old knives that made everything challenging.” He set a red onion and limes on the counter. “I nearly took a fingertip off one Thanksgiving shift, trying to cut through a butternut squash.”
“Ouch.” She took the wooden knife block out of the package, examining the shiny silver handles of the knives, making note that she needed to hide this in a cabinet. If someone broke in, these were too at-the-ready for handy murder weapons. “You need to tell me how much I owe you for this. You agreed to teach me how to cook, not outfit my kitchen.”
“You don’t owe me anything even if I had bought them, but I didn’t. I had an extra set at my place.” He cleared his throat and focused on the groceries. “They were an engagement party gift. I’d rather someone be using them than have them sitting in my hall closet.”
Andi frowned and set down the knives. He could’ve lied to her that he’d bought them, but she appreciated that he’d gone for the awkward truth instead. “How close were y’all to getting married?”
He looked over at her as he flattened the grocery sack. “My accident happened a little less than three months before the wedding date.”
Andi leaned back against the counter, considering him. “Wow, that close.”
“Yeah.” He started organizing the ingredients, dropping the eye contact. “After that, we kept pushing the date back, waiting for me to fully recover. But then…everything else happened.”
Everything else. Meaning, Officer Christina had slept with someone else. “I’m sorry.”
He glanced over at her and gave a tight shrug. “It is what it is. Neither of us held up our end of the deal. I thought I was marrying someone who took the in-sickness-and-health thing seriously. She thought she was marrying the invincible firefighter. We were both wrong.”