Chapter 9
2520 Words
Nine
Austin
I opt to run over to Holly’s rather than ride my bike even though having my bike outside her house would be way less obvious than my Jeep. Since she lives a block off Main Street, the chance of someone noticing my bike parked nearby is too high.
I shake my head at how ridiculous this is as I look both ways down the street before climbing the small set of stairs up to her front door. She opens it before I ring the doorbell, shooing me in and slamming the door.
“Whoa,” I say.
“I’m not taking any chances of being in that Buzz Wheel thing again.”
As I remove my jacket, my gaze falls down her body. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that reads Florida State. Her auburn hair is pulled back in a messy bun, the strands sticking out every which way.
“Here.” Her hand is out for my jacket, a hanger ready.
“You’re quick.” I pass it to her.
She puts it on the hanger and hangs it up in the closet before closing the door. “Thanks for placing our dinner order. It came a few minutes ago. Nothing better than Chinese takeout.”
I follow her into the kitchen, where she’s already put the containers out next to some plates and a line-up of a variety of different beverages. I wasn’t sure if we’d be eating on cardboard boxes or what since she’s only in town for a short time, but I’m guessing she’s in a furnished rental.
“I didn’t know what you’d want to drink.”
“I’m good with water. I have no idea how I’ll be able to run back home, but I wanted you to experience Wok For U. It’s the best Chinese food I’ve ever eaten. The Chang family immigrated here from China two generations ago, but it’s still in the family.” I ramble when I’m nervous and being in her environment definitely makes me nervous.
“Can’t wait.” She opens a container of rice then shifts over and opens a drawer, from which she pulls some spoons and places them beside the containers. “Do you use chopsticks?” She holds up a pair.
“I don’t. You?”
Her cheeks turn pink. “A friend of mine from childhood… whenever I’d go over to her house, you had to use chopsticks if you had Chinese food, so I learned young. Now when I eat Asian food, it’s a must.”
“Cool.” I shrug.
“I’m not one of those people who wants to be cool…”
I laugh.
She presses her lips together for a second. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“Please, I went on about the linage of the Chang family.”
We laugh together.
“If you want me to teach you, I’m happy to try.”
“I’m always up for trying new stuff.”
She smiles and pulls another set out of the drawer, along with a fork. “Just in case.”
“Thanks.” I accept both, our fingertips brushing as she passes them over.
Our eyes catch for a moment before her gaze shifts away, and she suddenly seems really interested in opening the orange chicken and rice.
I pile on heaping portions while she meticulously selects four pieces of chicken, a spoonful of rice, one strip of beef, and a floret of broccoli.
“You can see more plate than food,” I say.
She shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back for seconds.” She sets her plate on the table before weaving by me toward the drinks again, grabbing two waters, and placing one in front of where I guess I’m sitting. “I have the papers and test scores from half of Elijah’s teachers. I see Elijah tomorrow, although I talked with him a bit already after the fight in the courtyard.”
“I thought I was getting a lesson on chopsticks.” I hold the two sticks in the air.
She laughs. “Oh, right.” She picks up her own and it’s clear that she’s totally comfortable using them. “Hold them like this. One should stay steady, and you only move the top one up and down. See?”
Her tips meet at the end, but when I try it, mine cross. “No, I guess I don’t see.”
“Here.” Her chair slides out, and she leans over me, her thin fingers manipulating my large ones into position.
Her hands are soft and smooth, her touch gentle but firm, her scent intoxicating. I can’t tell you exactly what she smells like because I’m not a perfumist or whatever they’re called, but whatever she wears, it suits her.
Oh, and her t**s feel phenomenal on my shoulder. What? Last time I checked, I still had a d**k. These are things a guy notices.
“Now you try.” Her voice in my ear pulls me from my thoughts that were headed down a pretty dirty path. “Try a big piece first.”
I lower the chopsticks, my hands cramping from the muscles constricting so hard to keep the wooden sticks in place. Somehow, I manage to grab one, the sticks crossing on the top.
“There you go,” she says.
I slowly bring it to my lips, my mouth practically meeting it halfway to make sure it doesn’t fly off and hit her in the eye. As my mouth opens, the piece of chicken falls and drops in my lap. “Crap.”
I drop the sticks to get the chicken, but Holly’s instinct has her reaching to pick it up. Right between my legs.
She doesn’t realize the fact her hand is an inch away from my d**k until it’s already there. Instead of withdrawing, she stills, turns her head, and our eyes meet. Her lips are inches from mine. With her hair pulled up, the slender bend of her neck looks more appetizing than the food.
“Got it,” she whispers, picking up the piece of chicken, her eyes still locked with mine.
“Good,” I say.
The tension is ripe between us and it’s a perfect time for a kiss. Does she want me to kiss her? Probably not. I mean, we’re colleagues now, not two strangers in a bar.
She blinks and steps back, heading somewhere behind me. “So, have you always lived in Lake Starlight?”
I hear the trash can lid open and close. “Yep. The Baileys go back generations. My family owns Bailey Timber Company. It was my great-great-grandpa’s and it’s been passed down ever since.” I attempt the whole chopstick thing again, grains of rice sliding off.
Damn it. Who knew two little pieces of wood could be so f*****g irritating?
“Feel free to use your fork.” She smiles, sitting next to me.
I guess we’re forgetting that almost-kiss a moment ago. I take her cue and decide to roll with it. “Thanks.” I drop the chopsticks and pick up my fork, stabbing a piece of chicken with it.
“You didn’t want to work for the company?”
“No. My sister Savannah was best suited for that. She’s got the cutthroat personality for business.” My stomach thanks me as I refuel. No one does Chinese food like Wok For U. I’ll miss this place when I move away.
“And you’re more of a teacher?” She uses her chopsticks with ease, as if she was born knowing.
“No, teacher by default. I used to see myself as a baseball player, but now I’m satisfied with being a coach.”
“Oh, well, you’re a great teacher. I mean, it seems like the kids respect you.” She takes a piece of chicken between her chopsticks and brings it to her mouth.
“They respect me because they see me as their older brother. Most of them I’ve known my entire life. I’m not sure I’m good at it though.” I lean back and sip my water.
“Elijah loves you.”
“Elijah loves me because I understand him. Hell, I was him once upon a time. Minus the whole asshat of a best friend and the steady girlfriend.”
She smiles over her mouthful of food. When she finishes chewing, she asks, “Not really the steady girlfriend type of guy?”
I side-eye her.
She giggles and holds up her hands. “Am I stepping over the line?”
“No.” I smile back. This is easy. She’s easy to be around now that we’ve gotten past the awkwardness of our second meeting. “My mind was only on baseball in high school. Everything I did was to get to the next level. High school to college, college to the minors… and so forth.”
It all feels like another life now.
“What happened?”
I concentrate on my plate. Does she really not know? I’m used to everyone knowing the tragic story of what brought me back here and away from the future I’d worked so hard for. She’s new, but I thought Fay or someone else would’ve filled her in considering gossip seems to fuel this town.
“Life happened, I suppose.” I shrug, trying to play it off.
I could tell her the truth, but I’m not ready for her to look at me differently. Returning home and taking responsibility for my family paints me as a saint to most. I’m not a saint. I’m a guy who stepped up to the plate for the people he loves most. Anyone else would’ve done the same.
“Oh.” Her gaze drops to her plate.
“What about you? Why is a Yale graduate’s dream to be a principal at Lake Starlight High?”
She rises from her chair and walks over to her small kitchen island. I swivel in my seat to follow her. She’s dodging the question, just like I just did. I should let it go. She did mine.
“You don’t have to explain,” I say.
“I needed to find a piece of myself.”
“Bad breakup?” I ask, because isn’t that the only reason someone moves as far as they can from home?
She sits back down with another plate full of five pieces of chicken and broccoli. “Not really. I mean there was a breakup, but it wasn’t super serious, like an engagement or anything.”
She clears her throat, and that’s when I realize I’m staring at her like an i***t, wondering why the mention of some guy from her past irks me so much.
“You mean some guy isn’t gonna come up here on a red-eye trying to win you back?”
She narrows her eyes.
“Sorry, just figured a guy would be crazy to…” Where the hell did that come from? I don’t say cheesy s**t like that.
“Nice line.” She puts a piece of orange chicken in her mouth.
We eat in uncomfortable silence before I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Did you mean it as a genuine compliment or are you trying to get me upstairs by the end of the night?” Her eyes sparkle so I know she’s testing me. Our banter was what led us to the backseat of my Jeep the night we met.
“Strictly as a compliment. Not that trying out a bed wouldn’t be a nice change of pace for us.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Not going to happen again.” She slides out of her chair and heads to the sink with her dish.
“It’s not?”
She turns back around from the sink. I close up the containers of food and place them in her fridge. If I was hoping to gain more information about her based on what’s in her fridge, I’m out of luck. The thing is empty except for a carton of milk, water, a half-drunk bottle of white wine, and a six-pack of beer. Aren’t all chicks into greens and vegetables?
“I haven’t gone to the store yet,” she says from behind me.
“So, what? You eat out every night?”
“Let’s just say I know Rachel down at Lard Have Mercy.”
I shut the fridge doors. “You’ll have to come to my house for dinner one night.”
“Which brings me back to the fact that after we’re done with this paperwork, our relationship is strictly within the walls of Lake Starlight High School.” She places the dishes in the dishwasher and closes it.
“Why is that again?” I crunch my finished water bottle down until it’s half the size and grab another one.
“First of all, we work together. Second of all, I’m gone in three months and I’m not into the long-distance thing. Thirdly, I’m pretty sure your plan is to leave Lake Starlight as well?”
“Yeah, I’m hoping to head to California, but time will tell.” The impulse to check my phone rears its head, but I refrain.
“How many more reasons do you need to know that we’re not a good idea?”
“It doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while we’re both here.”
C’mon. You can’t blame a guy for trying.
“I’m not looking for a mess to clean up when I leave here, and I’m not dumb enough to think sleeping together won’t get messy.” She slides my fortune cookie to me and opens the cellophane of her own.
“Should we see what our fortunes have to say about the situation?”
She narrows her eyes. “No way. You probably had them fixed.”
I hold up my hands. “Yeah, before coming over, I hand-rolled and folded fortune cookies and had Li put them in the bag.”
She smiles. “On the count of three. One… two… three.”
We crack open our cookies and place the cookies on the counter to read the small papers inside.
“‘Don’t be a d**k,’” she says.
“What?”
She holds up her fortune in front of me. Sure enough, it says, “Don’t be a dick.”
“‘Your cook spit in your food,’” I say, reciting the words from my own fortune.
We both laugh, though she seems a little confused.
“It’s Li’s idea of a joke. We went to high school together.”
She nods. “That explains a lot.”
We eat our cookies then sit back down at her kitchen table to do what I’m there to do—get myself and Elijah cleared from Mrs. Andrews’s claim, not flirt with the sexy new principal.
- Writer
