My Sweetest Escape (19 page)

held out his hands as if he was waiting for

me to put something in them.

“First of all, you can get out of my way.”

He moved aside as I assembled the

ingredients. I was going to make it with

pepperoni, but figured I could skip it and

then Taylor wouldn’t have to worry about

trying to find the pepperoni-free sections

after I’d baked it.

“Here. Chop.” I handed him a knife and a

bag of fresh spinach. I figured he could at

least do that much.

“Cutting board?” I got it out and handed

it to him as I mixed the rest of the cheeses

together.

It was clear after a few seconds that

Dusty had only rudimentary culinary skills.

Jesus, he couldn’t even hold a knife.

Once again, if this were a movie, I’d

come up behind him, put my hand over his

and show him how to properly use it.

During which he would turn slowly, the

knife would clatter to the floor and he

would sweep me up in a passionate

embrace.

What really happened was that I started

laughing at him as he mangled the spinach.

“I can hear you laughing at me,” he said,

not turning, but putting down the knife.

“I’m sorry. I’m used to either ordering out

or nuking something in the microwave. This

is not in my wheelhouse. At all.” He stared

at the spinach as if it was out to get him.

“Then why did you agree to help?”

He turned around and faced me.

“Because I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You did.” It wasn’t a question.

“Believe it or not, Red, I enjoy your

company.” He gave me a smile as if to say,

what do you make of that?

“Even when I’m constantly insulting

you?”

Pushing himself away from the counter

and toward me, he said, “I especially like

that.”

“I thought you said you weren’t into

me.” When did swallowing become so hard

to do?

That stopped him from his advance

across the kitchen.

“I’m not. Can’t I just want to hang out

with you? Are you one of those girls who

think that guys and girls can’t be friends

without one of them falling for the other?”

“No, actually, I’m not.” I’d already

proved that not to be true.

He nodded. “Neither am I. So, with that

said, would you please finish this so I can

stop screwing it up?”

I rolled my eyes and went to take the

knife from where he’d set it on the counter.

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to

chop. You’re hopeless.”

“But now I have you to teach me, Red.”

I put the knife in my hand, showed him

how I gripped it and chopped a few pieces.

“It’s like a teeter-totter. Back and forth.”

I held out the knife to him and supervised

him from a few feet away until he had it.

Sort of. Once he was done with that, I

tossed the spinach in the bowl with the

cheese mixture and made him use those

arms to good advantage by opening the jars

of sauce.

I let him layer the noodles and sauce

and then it was time to shove the thing in

the oven.

“Do you seriously not cook?” I said as I

set the timer.

“I seriously don’t.” He hopped up on the

counter and started making a drumbeat

noise. He was like Hunter with his tapping.

Nervous, the pair of them.

“Well, if the zombie apocalypse

happens, I guess you’re going to have to

learn.”

“That’s only if my cooking skills are

needed. It’s far more likely my

zombie-slaying powers would be needed.”

Okay, he had a good point, and he knew

it.

I just rolled my eyes again and went to

the fridge to get the garlic bread. It was

premade, so I only had to stick it in the oven

with the lasagna at the end so it would get

warm.

We needed a side dish, but we were out

of lettuce, so I found a bag of broccoli in the

freezer and put it in a bowl to steam in the

microwave.

“Well, if you keep coming here more

often, I’m sure Taylor or Darah would rope

you into helping with the cooking or baking.

They’re big on baking.” Taylor didn’t let a

week go by without some form of delicious

something getting put in the oven, and

Darah was just as bad. They took domestic

to a whole new level.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered

after dramatically looking around the room.

Yes, we were still alone.

“Yeah, sure.” I needed something to do,

so I wiped down the already-spotless

counters.

“You promise to never, ever reveal this

information to anyone at any time for any

reason?” He was making a big deal out of

this.

“Cross my heart,” I said, making a

crossing motion over my chest. It wasn’t my

imagination that his eyes went to that area

when I did it and lingered longer than they

should have.

He hopped off the counter and crooked

his finger at me to lean in. I crossed my

arms over my chest and turned my ear

toward him.

“I’ve never baked anything in my life,”

he said, and I almost jumped out of my skin

because he was so close to me.

His cologne messed with my senses and

overwhelmed the smell of the baking

lasagna.

My brain stuttered like a freezing car

engine in January.

“I—I won’t tell anyone,” I said, stepping

away from him and pretending I had

something really important to do in the

sink.

“So I think the first time I bake

something, it should be special. With

someone I trust. I don’t want to bake with

just anyone.” Why did I have the feeling we

weren’t talking about baking anymore?

I knew when I turned around from

rinsing the sponge in the sink I would find

him there, and I was right.

Even though my hands were wet, he

grabbed both of them and knelt in front of

me. Jesus H. Christ.

“Will you, Joscelyn Archer, be my first?”

I was so, so glad he couldn’t hear what my

heart was doing, because it definitely

wasn’t beating in a normal fashion.

“Baking, you mean?”

Rising to his feet, but not letting go of

my hands, he started to smile.

“What did you think I was talking about,

Red?”

Not baking, that was for sure.

Why wouldn’t he let go of my hands?

Also, why were his so big? They completely

encompassed mine.

The door slammed and Dusty dropped

my hands like they were on fire.

“What smells so good?” Renee said, her

arms weighed down with bags from the

mall. Darah and Taylor were right behind

her, equally as burdened.

“Lasagna,” Dusty said, since I seemed to

have lost the ability to form words with my

mouth. I swallowed a few times and

coughed.

“Clearance sale?” I finally said.

“Yeah, sure,” Renee said, her eyes not

meeting mine. Um, what?

“Why are you being weird?” I said,

moving away from Dusty. “Are you hiding

something from me, big sister?”

“Absolutely not,” she said, hiding the

bags behind her back. “Be right back.” She

dashed up the stairs and the other two

followed. Hmm. If I had only one guess, I’d

say it had something to do with my

upcoming birthday, but maybe I was just

being too self-centered.

They came down a little while later, and

Paul and Mase were home a few minutes

after that. No one seemed surprised to find

Dusty with me in the kitchen, which also led

me to the conclusion that the reason he

was here was some sort of weird way to

distract me while they all went out

shopping.

My birthday had never been a huge

deal, being from a family with a lot of kids.

It was bigger when I was younger, but of

course I didn’t remember a lot of those

birthdays. They only existed now in

pictures.

Maybe Renee felt shitty about being so

strict with me so she was throwing me a

birthday party to make up for it? It didn’t

make a whole lot of sense, but I couldn’t

think of any other reason she’d be hiding

things like this from me, or why Dusty had

suddenly decided to cook dinner with me,

seeing as how he couldn’t cook at all.

But of course, I pretended that I didn’t

notice anything out of the ordinary. I’d play

along.

Dusty stayed for dinner and I was also

shocked to discover that he’d brought

homework, as well. Call me crazy, but he

just didn’t seem like the kind of guy who

would do homework. I mean, he’d have to

because he’d managed to make it through

one and a half years of college already, but I

just couldn’t picture it.

Everyone claimed a piece of real estate,

and I ended up sitting on the floor of the

living room with my laptop on the coffee

table and my books on the floor.

“Is this area taken?” Dusty parked

himself next to me and set a stack of books

on the table.

“I guess it is now. It’s kind of catch as

catch can around here for study space.”

“I see that,” he said as everyone else

spread themselves out in various places and

positions. I skimmed the titles of the books

he’d set down and was a little surprised.

Calculus, music theory and several that

looked like they were for education.

“Music education, like Hunter,” he said

to my unanswered question. “Surprised?”

“I knew that already.” Not exactly, but I

could put two and two together.

“Hey, Hunter, do you still have that

Praxis study guide?”

Hunter had taken the first set of the

tests he needed to pass to become a

teacher a couple of weeks before and was

still waiting for his results since he had to

pass the first test to take the second part. It

sounded like the SATs only way worse.

Hunter looked up from whatever he was

immersed in, his eyes taking a second to

focus.

“Yeah, sure. You want to borrow it?”

“Just the practice tests. I just want to

make copies, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, no problem.” Hunter went and

got the book from upstairs and brought it

down. “I didn’t fill in the answers, so you

can’t cheat off me.”

“Well, I’d rather pass the test, so I think

I’ll take my chances.” Hunter chucked the

book at Dusty, and he caught it as I ducked.

“No throwing books,” Taylor said from

the couch. “They can’t protect themselves.

You should know better, Hunter Zaccadelli.”

“I hate to be that person, but I have a

huge anatomy test and I have, like, a billion

pages to read, so can you guys flirt later?

Like, in your room? Quietly?” Renee said,

glaring at us all like a pissed-off librarian.

“Sorry, Ne,” Taylor said, ducking her

head and going back to her book.

“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter said, his accent

creeping in.

Dusty gave me a look before he

whispered, “You’re not going to yell at me,

are you?”

“I’m still hearing talking,” Renee said,

turning a page of her book.

I pretended to zip my lips and pointed at

Renee and then made a slashing motion

across my throat and then pointed to him. I

hoped he got the message. He gave me a

look and flipped the book Hunter had given

him open, and I went back to working on

my studying for Pam’s class. I always did it

first so my brain was at its most fresh and

able to absorb the information.

For a guy who made a lot of noises with

his mouth, Dusty was really good at

focusing. I kept looking up from my book

and seeing if he was really studying or only

pretending to, but he was always absorbed

in whatever he was doing. He never even

looked up, even though I was looking at him

and we were sitting so close. It was like he’d

shut the door and was in his own room that

none of us could get into.

I shook my head and went back to my

work and read until I finished everything I

absolutely had to finish and then started

working on my blog. I was thinking about

doing a new design, but since I knew next to

nothing about HTML, I was kind of limited. I

should just learn code. Maybe I could find a

used book about it in the bookstore or

something.

“What’s that?” I turned my head the

tiniest bit and found Dusty’s face almost

resting on my shoulder. I slammed my

laptop shut, startling everyone out of their

study stupors.

“Oh, my God, I think I just died a little,”

Taylor said, holding on to her chest.

“Sorry. Sorry.” I glared at Dusty, who still

had his face way too close. As far as boys

went, he definitely smelled a lot better than

the ones I’d encountered. A lot of them

covered up the fact that they didn’t shower

too often with that nasty body spray that

was probably toxic and slowly killing them