“Cushy is about the exact opposite of what we had. As for the money? We have rich parents.” Well, technically that was true. But still, I hadn’t lived off my parents’ money since I was seventeen. “And you really have an issue with where I’m from, don’t you?”
“I don’t like liars.”
“So now I’m lying? Why is it so hard to believe I’m from East Texas? Maybe I just don’t want you to know which town because I like to keep my life private.”
“Maybe because you don’t sound like you’re from Texas.” She shrugged, but her stare was still full of a challenge. “Like, at all. Neither does Mason.”
“So, you’re saying . . .” I rolled off the couch and took the few steps toward her. If she wanted me to sound like I was from Texas, then I was about to sound like I was from motherfucking Texas. “. . . if I had a drawl, you’d believe me?” Her breath hitched when I leaned over her body and put my hands on the couch on either side of her head. Our faces were just inches apart and I swear I almost groaned when she quickly licked her lips. Leaning in so my lips brushed her ear, I spoke soft and low. And yeah, with a fucking drawl. “Just say the word, darlin’. I’ll talk however you want me to.”
Rachel shivered beneath me and I’m almost positive I stopped breathing for a few seconds. Her cheek brushed against mine as she turned into me, and I moved so our lips were centimeters apart. Her blue eyes were hooded as they searched mine, and I took the rapid rise and fall of her chest as a sign that she wanted this just as much as I did. My nose brushed hers and as I leaned closer to press my lips to hers, the door burst open and Rachel’s hands shot out to push against my chest.
“Oh, well if I wasn’t gone long enough, I can come back.” Mason laughed loudly and Rachel slipped out from under my arm and took off for the door. Without a glance at either of us, she rushed out and over to her own apartment. “Jesus, Kash. You kiss that bad?”
I was still leaning against the couch. My eyes had been wide with confusion but were now narrowed at Mason’s words. “Shut up, man. I didn’t even touch her.”
“Well you did something. She took off like she couldn’t get away from you fast enough.”
“I said shut the fuck up,” I growled, and sank back onto the couch I’d originally been on. What the hell had just happened? She had turned her head toward me, she’d wanted something; the look in her eyes had said it all.
Even with the friends-only talk we’d had that morning, something had changed between us as the day had gone on. Yeah, the shopping had been exhausting, but doing it with Rachel had made it entertaining. Her shield had been gone, and the girl underneath it was nothing less than incredible. She was still a smart-ass, but she was funny and sweet. And sexy—God, she was so damn sexy, and I was positive she didn’t have a clue. More than anything, Rachel didn’t try to impress me. She was who she was and didn’t care how that came across to others.
I’d been thinking there was no way I could go day in and day out with this girl and not have her be mine. But after what had just happened, I was pretty sure I’d caused her shield to go back up.
“Wow, you guys did a great job today.” Mason’s words broke through my thoughts and I looked around the living room.
“Yeah, no thanks to you.”
“I trusted you to get good shit. And this TV . . . mmm. Sixty-inch? I’m so proud. I’ve taught you well.”
I rolled my eyes. “You really thought I’d get a shitty TV? Do you not know me at all?”
He shrugged and clapped his hands together once. “Well, since there’s nothing for me to do here”—I narrowed my eyes at him—“we’re gonna have pizza with the girls. So let’s go.”
“Rach and I went and got food today, we can make something for all of us.”
“Aww, you guys went grocery shopping too? So cute.”
I threw a pillow at him; he caught it easily and launched it back at me.
“I already ordered the pizza. Let’s go.”
“I’ll meet you over there. I need a shower.” A very cold shower.
5
Rachel
DRAINING THE REST of my lukewarm tea, I rinsed out the mug and was about to put it in the dishwasher when there was a knock on the door. I quickly thought about the day and looked over at the clock on the microwave. Was it sad that this was only the third Thursday since we’d moved in, and I already knew it would be Mrs. Adams? I set the mug down and made my way over to the door. When I opened it I saw a frazzled-looking Mrs. Adams standing there worrying her hands.
“Oh, Rachel dear! Thank heavens you’re here! All my babies, they’re gone. I need your help finding them, please come help me!” Without another word directed toward me, she began calling for Snickers and searching for her cats.
Mrs. Adams was the definition of a crazy cat lady. She was in her seventies, her husband had died ten years ago—as I’d come to find out from the son who brought her groceries three times a week and had seen me helping her the previous week—and she had absolutely no cats. She just thought she had them. When in reality, all of her cats were a bunch of stuffed animals, or pillows and blankets with pictures of cute little fur-balls on them. I never saw her unless it was a Thursday, and the first time she’d told me all her cats had escaped, I’d felt bad for the poor woman. That is, until I finally got an emotional Mrs. Adams back into her apartment and she began clinging to her stuffed animals, begging them never to leave her again. I’d left quickly after that, and when she’d shown up crying at half past eight again last week, claiming all her cats had run away again, I’d decided she needed someone to believe her for her five minutes of weekly crazy.
Like the previous two weeks, it was eight thirty on the dot, and this week we were searching for all her babies, but mainly Snickers. I followed behind her calling for the mischievous Snickers, and as she’d point under things, I’d fall to the ground and act like I was searching really hard for a cat I knew I’d never find.
“Oh, oh! Up there, what if they’re up there? I’m positive Mr. Snickers would have led them up there.”
So Snickers is a he? Good to know; that will help in the missing-cat search. I ran up the stairs to the second floor and continued to call out for the cats before making my way back downstairs to lead Mrs. Adams into the apartment directly to the left of ours.
“You know what, Mrs. Adams? I’m pretty sure I saw Snickers lead all the kittens into your apartment!”
“Oh, oh yes, I’m sure that’s what he’s done. He must have, those poor dears must’ve been so worried following him around—” She broke off suddenly when we made it into her apartment and let out a little shriek before shuffle-running over to one of her pillows and hugging it close to her chest. “My babies are back! Mama missed you, don’t ever leave me again!”
“Do you need anything else, Mrs. Adams?”
She turned and it broke my heart that her eyes were full of tears. How could her son leave her in an apartment alone like this? She needed someone with her all the time. “No, dear. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I just smiled and walked out of her wide-open front door, and right into a nicely muscled chest.
“Jesus, Kash!”
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing? Why are you just standing out here like a creeper?”
He smirked and followed me over to my apartment. “I’m trying to figure out why you’re army-crawling all over the breezeway and shouting for a candy bar.”
“I’m not shouting for a candy bar, I’m looking for a cat that isn’t there.”
One of his thick eyebrows rose and he bit down on his lip ring to try to hide his smile as he held my door open for us.
“Mrs. Adams . . . isn’t exactly all there. She thinks she has cats and she doesn’t. And every Thursday since we moved in, she’s come knocking at eight thirty asking for me to help her look for them.”
“And you help her, knowing they aren’t there?”
“Well, I didn’t know the first time until I got into her apartment. Her cats are really stuffed animals and pillows.”
“But you helped her every other time knowing what you know?” He’d stopped biting on that ring and his lips kept tilting up as he tried to control his smile.
“Yeah, Kash, I did. Because no one else does, and don’t laugh at me! It’s not funny, I feel really bad for her! You should see how upset she gets over this.”
I turned to walk into my room, but he caught me around my waist and hauled my body back to his. “I’m not laughing at you, Rach,” he mumbled huskily, and his gray eyes roamed my face. “I think it’s adorable that you help her. You’re really just a big softy, aren’t you?” Laughing when I growled at him, he continued to piss me off even more. “You’re like Sour Patch Kids candy.”
“What the hell?”
“Sour . . . then sweet.”
“I will castrate you if you don’t let me go right now.” My eyes narrowed and he lost his fight as he grinned widely at me and kept me in his arms. When I realized he wasn’t letting go, I sighed as I gave in. “Look, it breaks my heart. She shouldn’t be there by herself. Her son drops off food three times a week and he’s only here for about twenty minutes or so each time. She needs someone with her all the time. Instead she’s just—she’s alone. I hate that for her.”
Kash’s face softened and his hold on me got a little tighter. My heart picked up its pace and I blinked quickly as I looked away and pushed out of his strong grip.
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Clearing his throat, he looked behind him, toward the kitchen. “What are you gonna make me, woman?”
I snorted. “When you call me that, I literally just want to give you a bowl of cereal.” But even as I said the words, I pulled the sausage out of the fridge and grabbed the pancake mix.