Simmer Page 7

  I shot up from my stool, clutching the edge of the bar and shaking my head. “You guys are insane. I’m not peaking with Drew or anyone else.” I huffed before dropping a ten on the counter.

  “Tell Drew we said hi,” Emma mocked as I stalked to the back of the bar with shaky breaths. If I were honest, I thought of “peaking” with Drew quite a bit. A few times when Lisa wasn’t in the room I considered a private game of pretend, but I wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t. Bad enough the fight to keep things on a friendly level grew harder each day. Sliding my hand between my legs and using thoughts of Drew to . . . as tempting as it was, it would only make things that much worse. My limbs weren’t the only parts of my body that ached after our weekly runs together.

  “Something wrong?” The velvety timbre I knew all too well made me stop. I turned and couldn't help my smile when my eyes met those deep chocolate ones. He really did have bedroom eyes, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t test that theory.

  “No, just escaping my drunken roommate for a few minutes and thought I’d say hi. What?” Drew bit his lip to hold in a snicker.

  “Out in public again. Look at you!”

  I nudged his stomach as it rumbled with a laugh. Despite my best efforts to scowl, my mouth quirked into a smile.

  "Ah, that's what I'm talking about," he whispered as he cupped my chin, causing a shiver to run through me.

  "What is?" I breathed, forgetting to throw him my usual attitude.

  “A real smile. From you, those are pretty damn rare.” The sexy curl of his lip made me stumble.

  Drew was an adorable contradiction. He was a sweet and funny nerd, his favorite pastime teasing me. He also dripped sex, and my traitorous body wanted nothing more than to lick it up. Sexual peak like Emma said or just the product of a decade long sexual drought? Maybe both? I had no clue what it was like to actually like someone anymore. I didn't have time to, so I never let myself consider it. The more time we spent together, the more I considered. The more I liked. The more I wanted. This wasn't good on so many levels.

  "I smile. I'm not a robot or an ice queen. Maybe I just don't giggle like the girls you're used to." This time, I pulled off the scowl perfectly until he pulled me flush to his body.

  "I know you're neither of those things. But you're so tense, your smiles are always tight and forced. A real smile?” I stilled as his thumb grazed my bottom lip. “Only I get those. All mine."

  My knees liquified as my heart galloped in my chest. He was right. They were all his.

  “Want to dance?” He whispered in my ear so close his lips grazed my lobe. It was as if I was being tested every day and getting dangerously closer and closer to failing. Why did he have to be so sexy and nice and stupid? Couldn’t he see he was wasting his time?

  “Dance?” I huffed out a laugh. “I’m not the dancing type.” We were surrounded by the bumping and grinding of some students I knew from around campus. My own bumping and grinding days stopped a long time ago—nine years to be exact.

  “I bet you would be if I found the right song.” He tapped his chin. “Stay here.”

  He rushed over to the jukebox. My mind went to the bar I’d met Josh in that night and the jukebox older than me that still played actual records. I didn’t dance in that bar either even though I’d been younger than Drew was at the time. Irritation flowed through my veins. I never really got to be a kid, did I? Carefree was never in my vocabulary. Maybe that’s why I never danced.

  My mouth fell open at the first notes of “Sara” by Starship. I shook my head as he sauntered back over.

  “I don’t think you can really dance to this—” My words halted as his arm snaked around my waist and brought me closer . . . and closer. My heart thundered in my ears as I froze.

  “Yes, you can,” he whispered. “Sway with me. Not that hard, Caldwell.”

  I looped my arms around his neck and moved with him. I saw his friends gawking at us in my peripheral but wouldn’t look. Being in his arms felt too good to care what was bad about it—for now.

  “I didn’t think you knew this song. A little before your time, no?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “It suits you.” The husky rasp of his voice made butterflies somersault in my belly, never mind flutter. Despite all that heat I was trying so hard to deny, I was about to go up in flames right next to the pool tables.

  “Suits me?” I cocked my head to the side. “Because the song is named ‘Sara?’ That’s deep, Kostas.”

  I laughed until the back of his hand feathered down my cheek, grazing the corner of my mouth. I didn’t feel thirty-two in that moment. It was as if I were a teenager, with all these foreign feelings ricocheting all over my body, feelings I had no clue what to do with. Well, maybe I did know, but I was too scared. Too terrified to let myself give in to this, to need someone. The lyrics spoke about storms brewing in Sara’s eyes. It was more like a hurricane—wild and untamed with the potential for total devastation.

  “Fire and ice. You show ice to everyone else, but I see fire. I see . . . I see so much.” He swallowed as he searched my face. “I wish you did, too.”

  “I’m scared,” I admitted as our eyes locked. The urge to kiss him was so strong my lips tingled. What was so wrong with giving in?

  Everything.

  His hand splayed on my lower back, bringing us even closer together. A hint of a smile floated across his lips before he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t be. I’ve got you. Or I will.” He pressed a soft, wet kiss behind my ear. Every little hair on the back of my neck stood straight up as goose bumps flared across the spot where his mouth had been. “Once you let me.”

  Drew

  THE LAB WAS dead, but I expected that the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I was about to close early when Sara rushed through the door. I rose from my seat to greet her but was rooted to my spot by the pained look in her eyes.

  “Hey,” I whispered as she scribbled her name on the sign-in sheet, still not acknowledging my presence. Something was wrong, and I was about to drag it out of her one way or another. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m working Thursday. All the other students are off but since I have a paid internship they need me to cover Thursday afternoon.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I was going to make bread pudding for Victoria tonight, but I won’t see her, so why . . .” Her eyes clenched shut at the first tear she couldn’t hold in.

  I pulled her into my arms without thinking about it, and she didn’t fight me. We were alone, but I wouldn’t have given a single fuck if we weren’t. She whimpered into my chest as her shoulders shook.

  “Did you tell her yet?”

  She nodded as she pushed out of my hold. “They promised me Christmas week off since the restaurant closes but Thanksgiving is their busiest day. And it’s time and a half, which I could use,” she sniffled as she swiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I just . . . I miss her so much. Josh offered to drive her up here, but that’s a long way to only see me for a few hours. I go back in on Friday for the whole day.”

  “Are you going to be alone on Thursday?”

  She shrugged. “Lisa invited me over to her parents’ house, but I’d get there after six, so I said no. I probably won’t be very good company anyway.”

  “We never eat before six. My stepdad usually has to work. Come to my parents’ house.”

  Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “That’s really sweet, Drew. But I can’t—”

  “Why can’t you? They live fifteen minutes from campus. I’ll wait until you get out of work and we can go together. And we all love bread pudding, so . . .” I nodded to the empty stations in the back. “Get to work, Caldwell.”

  “Drew,” she whispered as she inched closer. “Are you sure you want me to come to your—”

  “You’re my friend and I’m inviting you to my family’s Thanksgiving dinner. No one, including me, will make it more than that. Thinking of you here alone will twist me up so muc
h you’ll ruin my favorite meal of the year. You wouldn’t do that to me, right, Sara?” I jutted my lower lip in a pout. She laughed and swatted my arm.

  “You play dirty. Okay,” she relented with a hint of a smile. “I’ll come. With bread pudding. So, if you’ll excuse me.”

  She ambled to one of the stations a little lighter than when she first came in. All she’d been talking about for weeks was seeing Victoria and I knew she hated waiting another month. Sara never mentioned any family, and I knew they weren’t in the picture for holidays. Thanksgiving both away from her daughter and alone would eat away at her, whether or not she admitted it. That wouldn’t happen—not as long as she had me. Would things get complicated and even more muddy between us? I didn’t doubt it, but I didn’t care.

  “You’re sure they’re okay with this?” Sara winced as I pulled into my parents’ driveway. “Bringing some strange woman over for Thanksgiving.”

  I snickered as I shut the engine off. “The strange woman is my friend. My mom always adopted all the friends I brought over. She’s like that, and she’ll love you.” I slid my palm against hers and laced our fingers together. “Relax.”

  My eyes held hers for a long minute. I couldn’t stop touching her—and she was letting me. Maybe I was getting under her skin as much as she was under mine. What would she do if I kissed her? I shook off the burning inclination. Baby steps, Kostas.

  I reached for the door and stilled when Sara cupped the back of my neck. She pressed a long kiss to my cheek before resting her forehead on my temple. “Thank you,” she sighed into my ear.

  My body didn’t move as it stiffened—everywhere. God, I wanted those lips. This woman turned me into a panting little puppy and I had no shame about it. I turned and kissed the top of her head.

  “What are friends for?”

  “Andrew!” My mother bellowed from the kitchen window. “Get inside, everything is almost ready!”

  Holding in a frustrated groan, I stepped out of the car and led Sara up our front steps.

  “Nice to meet you, Sara. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” Mom smiled at Sara as she held the door open for both of us.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Mrs.—”

  “Julia.” She enveloped Sara in a big hug. “Glad to have you here.” Sara glanced over at me with widened eyes before she gave into my mother’s embrace with a relieved smile.

  Sara would always kid how she was socially inept, but her real issue was accepting kindness. She never expected it, so she didn’t know how to react.

  “Drew said you liked bread pudding and it’s my daughter’s favorite, so . . .” She trailed off when Cassie’s voice drifted down the hallway.

  “Drew!” My sister raced over to me and tackled me with a hug. I lifted her by the waist and twirled her around until her giggles made her breathless.

  “This monster is my sister, Cassie. Cassie, this is my friend, Sara.”

  “Hi, Sara!” She clung onto my neck as she gave Sara a wave.

  “Hi, Cassie. Nice to meet you.” She smiled but it was stiff. The sight of Cassie probably made Sara miss Victoria even more.

  I spied Mom squeeze Sara’s shoulder. “I heard you’re a chef. And I’m glad because the gravy is giving me issues today.”

  Sara’s head snapped back to my mother. “Oh, I’m actually pretty good at sauces, if you want me to take a look—”

  “Are you kidding? Let’s go.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway. Mom looked back and gave me a nod. My chest heaved a sigh of relief, and I gave thanks for my mother’s sixth sense.

  “Drew,” Cassie whispered as she pulled at the hem of my T-Shirt, “is Sara your girlfriend?”

  I knelt in front of her and yanked her messy blonde ponytail. “Well, she’s a girl that’s my friend.”

  Her brow crinkled, and I prayed that wimpy explanation satisfied her for the time being. “She’s pretty.”

  I nodded as a smile stretched my lips. “Yes, she is.”

  “Andrew!” My stepdad traipsed through the door and planted a kiss on my sister’s head. “Happy Thanksgiving, son.”

  “You too, Phil.” I stood from the floor to give him a hug.

  “Did you bring your friend?” he asked as he scanned the room.

  “Yeah, she’s in the kitchen with Mom.”

  “Right.” He nodded. “She’s a chef.”

  “Almost. She graduates this year—”

  “She’s pretty, Daddy. Like really pretty.”

  His lips twisted into a smirk as he caught my gaze. I shrugged and nodded.

  “I look forward to meeting her. Let me change and I’ll meet you guys in the dining room.” He slapped my arm and headed down the hallway.

  “Come on, baby sister. Let’s see if Mom needs any help.” I nudged her toward the dining room.

  The table was already set. Sara helped my mother set steaming bowls on the table, seeming a lot more relaxed than she was in the car ride up. Her eyes darted to mine and she gave me a relieved smile.

  “Hi, Sara.” Phil ambled over and extended his hand. “I’m Phil, Andrew’s stepdad. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Sara grinned and took his hand. “Julia said the same thing. I’m getting a little worried.” She quirked an eyebrow at me.

  “All good.” He raised his hands. “I promise.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she let out a nervous laugh. “Let me see if Julia needs any more help. It’s nice to meet you.”

  She returned to the kitchen as Phil settled into his usual seat next to me. “Cassie was spot-on. Nice work, son.”

  “We’re friends, Phil,” I groaned. I didn’t need anyone spewing out any comments to make Sara uncomfortable when she was finally starting to relax.

  He nodded and patted me on the back. “I was your mom’s friend too, at one time. How it starts.”

  “She’s a little skittish,” I whispered while eying the hallway. “Just don’t say anything—”

  “I won’t.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Promise. I’m glad you brought a friend over for dinner. The four of us can only make so much conversation.” He winked before rising from his chair to grab a piece of bread.

  “Okay, everyone. Let’s eat.” Mom laughed when her eyes landed on Phil. “Just in time. Sara, this is my husband, Phil.”

  “We’ve met.” Phil smiled at Sara. “Nice of Andrew to bring a chef home for Thanksgiving.”

  “Tell me about it. She’s great. Next time you come over, you’re bringing that shrimp bisque you were telling me about.” She squeezed Sara’s shoulder and motioned to the table. “Sit anywhere you’d like.”

  I patted the seat next to me with a crooked grin. An easy smile spread across her cheeks and stole the air out of my lungs. Friends aren’t supposed to do that to you. I was running low on denial about my true feelings for this woman. Probably because they grew stronger by the minute. I knew it, my family knew it, and she knew it. But she wasn’t running, at least not yet.

  “So, Sara, what kind of chef are you? Like, do you bake or cook?” Phil asked her as he scooped sweet potatoes onto his plate.

  “I bake, but I’m learning cooking techniques at school. I transferred my credits from my old school, so I only have a year to go until graduation.”

  “Oh, so you’ll graduate the same time as Andrew.” Mom noted from the other side of the table. “Do you know where you’d like to work?”

  Sara speared a piece of turkey with her fork and nodded. “There are a few restaurants in the city I’ve been applying to around Midtown Manhattan.”

  “Only there?” My mother asked. “I used to love the restaurants in the Village downtown.”

  “Well, my daughter lives in Queens with her father . . . for now. But I’d like to work and live close, so she can stay in her school and stay close to her father. The commute from Queens to Midtown Manhattan is quicker than downtown.”

  “Oh, for sure! Andrew’s father lives in Queens. That’s about what, a four-hour
drive from here?”

  “It is. I’d planned to make the trip before I had to work.” She forced another smile and shot me a weary side glance. I wrapped my arm around her before I could help myself.

  “But, you’ll still have Christmas together.” I squeezed her shoulder, lingering long enough for my mother to raise an eyebrow at us.

  “I’m sure it’s hard to be away from your daughter today. When Andrew was little, I had to work a lot of holidays. I always hated it, but you have to do what you have to do. She appreciates it, even if she grows up to not visit as much as she should when she goes to grad school less than twenty minutes away.” Mom narrowed her eyes at me, and Sara and I both laughed.

  “This final project is killing a lot of my free time. I’ll get better, I promise.” I gave her a guilty grin.

  Mom scowled at me but couldn’t hide her smile. “Bring Sara and some shrimp bisque and I’ll forgive you.”

  Sara sipped from her water glass and didn’t acknowledge Mom’s request. I’d gladly bring her back if she wanted to come with me. In a few months she’d be back in the city with her daughter, and my time with her would be over. If I had any sense of self-preservation, I’d keep her at a healthy distance but, as Sara liked to point out to me, I was a foolish man—at least when it came to her.

  After dinner, I followed Sara into the kitchen. She promised my sister she’d make real hot chocolate from scratch instead of the packets we all grew up on. Mixing bowls and utensils brought her a peace nothing else did.

  “I told you they’d love you.” I snuck up behind her and snaked my arm around her waist. She leaned into me, forgetting herself for a moment I supposed before taking a half inch step away.

  “You have a great family, Drew.” She reached for the cocoa powder and sprinkled it into the bowl without meeting my eyes. “Do you see your father for holidays?”

  “I may go to Astoria after Christmas. I haven’t decided. I’d like to see my grandmother and cousins. Not that I don’t want to see him, but he never makes much of an effort. How about you? Do you see any family for Christmas?” I stepped beside her to gauge her reaction. She stopped mixing and placed both hands on my mother’s marble top counter before lifting her eyes to mine.