Cake (12 page)

Only one answer comes to me, “Why?”

At first he looks away, then directly into my eyes. Pain as old as time, hides deep within them, but at the same time, a gleam of hope shines through.

“Why not?”

He has me there. My heart beats fast. It’s a simple question that should have a simple answer, but simple is a loaded word that doesn’t apply to Dray and I anymore.

“For the time I’m here, I will spend every waking hour getting to know you, if and only if, you promise to keep your hands to yourself. The first time you touch me sexually, I’m out of here. Deal?” I say in a rush.

He smiles, looking away. Part of me braces myself for one of the old Dray’s sexual quips, but after several minutes, I’m blown away when it doesn’t come. Turning back towards me, he still has this knowing smile on his face.

“Deal.”

Why does it feel like I just made a deal with the devil? And why the hell did I feel a ping of disappointment the moment he said “deal”? My body and mind are on two different levels, and right now, I need all my wits about me.

“Are you hungry? I need to start trying to figure dinner out.”

“I have a list of all the local restaurants that deliver in the kitchen drawer. They have my credit card on file, so please feel free to order what you want. Where ever you order, just tell them it’s for me, and they know what to bring. Just add yours.”

“Eat out much?” I ask sarcastically.

“Bachelor, remember,” he answers.

Nodding, I go to stand when I realize I don’t even know what his favorite food is. If you would have asked me before today, I would have said it was pizza. That’s what I saw him eat the most of in college, but it could have been just more accessible.

Looking down at him, I ask, “What is your favorite food?”

Grinning back up at me, he answers, “I’m a meat and potatoes guy. I love a juicy rare steak.”

“Me too. I love red meat. I tried to go vegan, but it didn’t work out that great for me.”

“What happened?”

“My stomach growled every single time I saw a cow on television. It became terribly embarrassing.”

Letting out a low laugh, he replies, “You’re kidding. Right?”

“Wish I was.” Smiling back at him, I walk into the kitchen to the sound of his laughter.

Grabbing the menus, I flip through them until I find a steak house and order our dinner. Opening the refrigerator, I glance to see what I can actually cook for tomorrow and lay out some chicken to bake. By the time the food is delivered, Dray is deep asleep, so I eat by myself. Once he is awake and eating, I take my shower and ready myself for bed. I told him to call me if he needed any help, daring him to break our verbal contract so I can get out of here, but he didn’t. Checking on him before I go to bed, he’s fast asleep again, in his bed this time. Watching him breathe from the doorway, I decide not to wake him up. I silently ponder what must have happened to Dray to cause him to act like he did today? For that matter, what has happened to me and how do I get off this crazy train?

The next week flies by as I plan for the end of the world. Not really, but by the way that Dray is acting, I would say that Jesus is near, and that you need to tuck your head between your legs and kiss your butt goodbye. I’ve decided that whatever it was that happened to asshole Dray works for me and that, by the grace of our dear Lord, this new sweet-as-sugar Dray is here to stay. He’s kind and considerate and really funny. Who knew?

We both have so much in common it’s scary. Thanks to Netflix, I’ve introduced him to my favorite television show,
Friday Night Lights
. We are watching the first season together. Platonically, we lie side by side in his bed every night, discussing the ins and outs of the show. We both also love gory scary movies and hate mysteries of any kind. He loves the same peanut M&M’s along with hating anything with coconut in it. Oh, and we both order supreme pizza and pick the green peppers off instead of just ordering without. It adds flavor.

Music is the only thing we definitely disagree on. He enjoys old school R&B and rap, but abhors any country. I’m trying to change that, but it doesn’t seem to be going in my favor. He will listen with a pained look on his face and then swear I’m trying to kill him. He likes Carrie Underwood, so at least there is hope.

So far, everything has been on the up and up. Dray hasn’t tried anything, and I’ve kept my libido under wraps, which admitting to only myself, is hard. And it’s progressively getting worse. Every time I find something else I like about him, it’s like this pressure starts building. We played checkers yesterday, and he could have easily cheated and won, but he was honorable, and damn it, if that didn’t turn me on. I need to get out of the house today.

“Dray, I’m going to visit my aunt,” I say walking into the kitchen where he is eating lunch. Looking up he nods. At the last minute, I turn and something inside makes me ask, “Want to come along? I’m sure she would love to see you.” Leaning against the doorjamb, I see the surprise appear across his face.

“Sure. Just give me a second to grab some shoes,” he says while standing and washing his plate out in the sink.

For him to walk out of the room, he has to walk through the same doorway that I’m standing in. Not moving, for some insane reason, I feel him slip past me. Brushing up against my sensitive body, he moves slowly by. Our eyes lock the entire time, but he makes no move to disturb our agreement. After he leaves, I stand there, calming my mind and body for a second.

“I can do this,” I chant to myself. It’s Dray for crying out loud. That’s the problem though. Which Dray am I with?

Hearing him walk back into the foyer, I grab Jonsie to take with us and out we go. Driving to my aunt’s turns out to be an adventure in itself. Trying to broaden his musical horizon, I let him listen to some new indie and alternative bands that I’ve found and like. The Neighbourhood, seems to be one we both agree on.

Once we reach Aunt Leigh’s, he offers to take Jonsie for a walk while I go and greet her. Her nurse lets me in and ushers me into the kitchen where the smell of homemade cornbread fills the air.

“Yummy,” I state as I walk in.

She stands behind the counter canning pepper jelly. Walking over to her, I lean down to kiss her cheek and turn so she can return the kisses.

“You know, your great-grandmother first taught me our secret family recipe for pepper jelly when I was fifteen. I never planned on ever cooking any, but here I am, cooking and canning. From fashion diva to fifty’s housewife. You really never know where life will take you, Kylie.”

“Well, I never knew there is a secret family recipe.”

Looking up, surprised, she states, “No, I guess your Dad wouldn’t have known it.”

“I guess this means you now have to teach me,” I reply. Coming around, I open a drawer and reach in for an apron. “Where do I start?” Turning away, she is unable to hide the tears in her eyes before I see them.

“Well, let me start from the beginning and teach you. Remember, this is a secret so it can only be passed down to family. You have to swear to it, my mammie made me.”

Crossing my heart, I look at her and say, “Swear.”

“Okay, then...you start with...”

I’m not sure what time it is until I glance up at the clock and realize that an hour has passed. Aunt Leigh walked me through the whole canning process and the family recipe. She gave me an entire round of cornbread and a jar of the pepper jelly we made. Something inside told me that it meant so much for her to be able pass that tradition down, and it honestly meant so much to me too.

“What smells so good?” Drays voice drifts over the kitchen, again awakening my body to my utter dismay. Jeez, not in my aunts kitchen. Really, Kylie?

“Dray, what are you doing here? Come give your Aunt Leigh a hug.” My aunt rushes around the counter to hug him. She’s always had a soft spot for Dray. “Did you come with Kylie?”

“Yes ma’am. I figured you ladies could use some time alone, so Jonsie and I had us a long walk along the lake. I do believe some fresh air and a quick nap did me some good.”

Reaching to grab each of his cheeks, she brings him down to give him a loud kiss on the lips. She pulls back, smiling and asks, “So when are you going to make an honest woman out of my niece, now that you knocked her up?”

I see the blood rush out of Dray’s face. It’s pretty comical until I realize that I haven’t told Dray about what happened. He probably hasn’t talked to anyone other than his agent since the accident. He turns towards me, and slowly, his gaze zeros in on my stomach. Oh no. Here we go again. His face fills with rage, but I see him control it to the point of shutting his eyes tightly. When he finally opens them, the fun camaraderie that shown minutes before is gone, and an almost sadness penetrates through.

“Oh, dear. He doesn’t know, does he, child?” my aunt turns to me and asks.

“Whose is it, Kylie.” The anger in his voice belies the calm facade.

“Yours.” I state honestly.

“Mother-fu...,” he starts to say, but changes his mind when he looks at Aunt Leigh.

My Aunt and I look at each other and die laughing. Is he for real?

The louder and longer we laugh, the more agitated I see Dray become. He’s about two seconds from losing it, when I decide he’s had enough.

“I freaked when I got to the hospital, and I couldn’t find out any information on you. I thought you were worse off than they were stating, so when I saw the doctor imparting seemingly important news about you, I spoke up that I am your family. When asked, I said we were engaged. The doctor and your coach looked skeptical, so I continued to announce that I was your future baby’s mama. Unfortunately, your teammates are worse than a bunch of old gossiping biddies, and of course, before I could set the story straight, all of Atlanta knew.”

“There are already wagers on boy or girl and the date. Kylie here tipped the world on its axis with that news, and it still hasn’t stopped tilting,” my aunt supplies.

“You did that for me? Risk the social media having a field day at your expense, not to mention your privacy?” He questions me with a look of shock on his face.

“Of course. You had me terrified, and no matter how much of an ass you were to me in the past, we are still like family,” I jokingly reply but stop smiling at the look on his face. Longing. Respect. Turning towards Aunt Leigh for answers, I see her looking from him to me.

“I need to take my medicine. I’ll be back shortly, you two,” Aunt Leigh replies as she hurriedly moves out of the room.

Not wanting to be alone when Dray is acting weird like he is, I start to exit but find myself trapped against the kitchen counter by his body. Lifting my hands to his chest, I freeze in place. I can feel his breath, warm against my cheek. His heart, beating in his chest, hammers against my hands.

“Say it again. Please?” he quietly asks. My eyes fly to his in question.

“Say what?” I’m confused. I try and think back to what I just said to him.

“You called me family. Did you mean that?”

Clenching his shirt tightly in my palms, I look into his eyes and state the truth, “Majorly dysfunctional, but yes, you’ve always been part of my family.”

“Release me from our agreement, Kylie,” he commands.

“I can’t.” My heart cracks just a little because part of me wants to. Okay, a large part of me longs to.

“Trent,” he states, never questioning. His eyes bore deeply into me.

The truth in his eyes and the sound of his voice break my heart the rest of the way. I want to ask him what about Trent, but something inside of me tells me not to.

“Then back away because I don’t want to,” he says, emphasizing each word.

“I need to go check on my aunt.” Releasing his shirt, I look down, unable to bare the burn of his stare. Ducking under his arms, I free myself and walk out of the kitchen. Never looking back.

My heart hurts and tears threaten behind my eyes. I’m going to have to get Dray to a specialist. Not that I want the old asshole back, but this new Dray is starting to scare me.
Invasion Of The Body Snatchers
and all that or maybe
Men In Black
. Either way, I can’t handle this.

Walking into Aunt Leigh’s room, I sit down next to her on the bed. At first, neither one of us breathes a word, letting the silence say all that we can’t.