Would have been done sooner, but somebody burnt the noodles.”
“You burnt the noodles, I take it?” I grabbed a bar stool and sat down.
“No. Mr. Concentration over there.” He nodded toward the couch where a large man was sitting with a grimace on his face.
Holy crap. I’d only seen the guy from far away. Up close he looked like a hit man, like the type of guy you pay to off drug dealers.
Wait, maybe he was a drug dealer?
I pushed my hair behind my ear and swallowed nervously.
“Bob!” Demetri yelled his name like a curse. “Didn’t think it would be important to tell me that he’d never cooked noodles before.”
“How does one burn noodles?” I directed my attention to Bob, who stood up and made his way over to the kitchen. His face betrayed his lack of amusement as his eyebrows drew together.
“Hmph.” He grabbed a soda out of the fridge and gave Demetri another glare before stopping in front of me. “I’m Bob, Mr.
Daniels’ security guard.”
“Oh.” I laughed. “I thought you were a drug dealer or some sort of crazy parole officer.”
His mouth cracked into a tiny smile before he turned back around and made some sort of animal sound as he settled on the couch.
“You’ll have to excuse Bob,” Demetri said, his back to me as he cooked some sauce on the stove. “Ever since I’ve been clean, I’ve been driving him crazy. He has to go to the taffy store with me every day. I think he’s gained ten pounds.”
“Which begs the question.” I turned toward Bob and smiled.
“How much taffy does one have to eat in order to gain ten pounds?”
“Ooo, a story problem.” Demetri threw his free hand into the air. “Love those! Here, let me figure it out. Bob how much do you weigh?”
Silence.
“Bob, stop ignoring me.”
Silence again.
“Bob!” This time Demetri yelled his name so loud, I almost covered my ears. “I’ll let you watch TV by yourself tonight.”
“Three hundred and five,” came Bob’s swift reply.
Demetri turned toward me and shook his head. “It’s almost too easy, poor guy.” He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned forward against the counter, making eye contact with me. My stomach flipped.
“If Bob tries five pieces of candy a day, and each piece of candy weighs roughly two ounces and…” His eyes glazed over, and his head moved, nearly touching my lips. “Are you wearing makeup?”
“I, ugh.” I ducked behind my hands and covered my face.
“No, no don’t.” Demetri ran around the side of the breakfast bar and pulled me into a hug. I still tried to cover my face. “Lyss, let me see you.”
I shook my head. Why had I tried to look good today? I felt so stupid. Was I really doing my makeup and hair for him now?
“Lyss.” Demetri’s voice rumbled. “Take your hands away before I kiss you in front of Bob and start taking your clothes off.”
I yelped and pulled my hands away from my face. He leaned in and kissed me anyway.
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He grinned and ran his thumb down the side of my jaw. “God, you’re beautiful.”
What’s a girl to say to that?
Demetri seemed mesmerized as he tilted his head and examined my face, turning my chin this way and that, and then he ran his fingers through my hair. “Does it always feel like this?”
“Like what?” I was breathless.
“Silk.” He exhaled and threaded it between his fingers before closing his eyes and smelling my hair. “I think you’re trying to kill me.”
“By washing my hair?” I croaked.
“By being too damn perfect.” With a curse he released me, and the happy smile plastered itself comfortably back on his face.
Demetri grabbed a few plates.
“Time to eat.”
Abrupt subject change, but okay. I was uncomfortable with his attention anyway. Nobody had called me pretty since the day Brady died.
It was getting harder and harder to remember the way his face looked when he pulled the truck over and kissed me hard on the mouth.
“You’re perfect, little seal, so perfect.” His tongue trailed down my neck. Giggling, I pushed him away.
“Brady! We’re going to be late for the game! Come on, we need to go.”
“Sorry.” He smiled unapologetically. “Okay, fine, I’m not sorry, but everyone’s going to be late, girl. Look at this weather.”
The rain was coming down in sheets, which was typical for Seaside. We had been on our way to Lincoln City for the weekend football game, in which, of course, Brady was starting quarterback.
I clenched his hand and sighed. Life was perfect. I had the perfect boyfriend. He was getting a full ride to Boise State next fall, where he’d start as their quarterback. Nobody could understand why he would choose such a small state school. But I loved Brady for it. He wanted to be close to family and knew the importance of being part of a football team that was about the team and the game more than the stars. And Boise State was that team. I admired him so much.
“I love you.” I had said it without thinking.
Brady put the car into drive, but before he pulled out he turned toward me. “Good, because we’re getting married.”
“Um, I’m sixteen,” I pointed out laughing.
He grinned then reached over for another kiss. “I’ll wait.”